#down to the thinking it was incredibly romantic and then realizing it wasn't
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rita-repulsa-ke · 2 days ago
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The Hundred Temples of Agatha Harkness
"Why are you picking this to get insistent about?" Agatha complained. "I mean, it's a flower crown, Rio."
Agatha and Rio, on the road, in love. Agatha is annoying, Rio is romantic and long-suffering. Business as usual, really.
"Rio, stop that," Agatha snapped at her as she absently grew flowers along the side of the road, then plucked a handful of the prettiest ones. Her perpetually-annoyed beloved was in a worse mood than normal, something about the heat, everything taking too long and very possibly the time of the month.
Rio glanced over at the woman she loved, absently working the flowers into a circular shape. "Do you know people used to worship me as a god?" she asked conversationally.
"I didn't," Agatha answered, barely paying attention, then seemed stop and consider that. "Are any of them still around? Because I can think of several ways that could be useful."
"…Agatha, are you suggesting that we scam people who worship me?"
"I mean," Agatha said, pursing her lips as though she seriously needed to consider the question. "…Yes?"
"Do you have any shame?" Rio said, which only made Agatha laugh, a surprised cackle that made an answering smile tug at Rio's lips.
"I wasn't aware you were so invested in morality," Agatha admitted. "Given that your favorite hobby is watching people die."
"It isn't really a hobby, Ags. More like a full-time job."
"Still."
"Death isn't wrong," Rio said. "It's a part of the natural cycle."
"Right, sure. And the part where you love when I murder people?"
Rio's eyes fell half-closed and she licked her lips, savoring the idea of getting to watch Agatha do what she did best. "Well, then it becomes their time to pass beyond the veil. Ags, is there a coven where we're going?"
"Yes, and I will, I promise, but don't get too fired up about it, I want to stay for a few days and do some other things first."
Rio pouted slightly, pressing herself closer to Agatha. "It sounds nice, though. I want it."
Agatha patted her on the shoulder. "It will be just as nice in a few days, I promise."
Rio glanced at the hand on her shoulder. "Whole temples in my honor."
Agatha snickered. "Feeling how far you've fallen?"
"Mm. Every once in a while. But you know, I'd rather be walking down a dirt road with you than have a hundred temples in my honor."
"Right," Agatha said, the compliment sliding off her like water off an oversized, aggravating duck. "…Any chance any of those temples are still standing?”
"No idea," Rio said, trying to decide between exasperated and affectionate and settling on both.
"Shame."
Rio put the completed flower crown on her own head without comment and Agatha glanced over, then shook her head. "…A god, huh," she said, snickering slightly.
Rio considered, then motioned, grew more flowers only to pluck them, feeling them begin to wither and die as soon as their roots broke away from the ground, minuscule deaths but still pleasant, like warm sunlight on her skin. She began to weave them together, choosing only the best and brightest.
"…Surely you don't need that many flower crowns," Agatha pointed out.
"Just one more," she said.
"…Hey, Rio," Agatha said, catching on and immediately beginning to protest. "No. They're very pretty. Very, very pretty. But it's just—it's not my thing."
She didn't answer, humming off-key to herself as she worked the stems together, held up the finished product with a pleased smile. Even better than hers.
Then she quirked a finger at Agatha. "Beloved, come here."
"Noooo," Agatha said, speed-walking away like she was ever going to be able to outrun Death. Rio let her get a few steps ahead and then appeared in front of her, so close Agatha almost ran into her.
"That is an incredibly petty use of your powers," Agatha said, taking a fast step back. "It’s very pretty, love, I'm just not really a flower person. Or a whimsy person. Or whatever that thing represents."
Rio let out a deep, pained sigh, realized that was the first time she'd remembered to breathe in a while. "Agatha."
"Why are you picking this to get insistent about?" Agatha complained. "I mean, it's a flower crown, Rio."
Rio gave the other woman a smile that would have cowed lesser women, the wild, exultant, smile of a being that could have watched the world die and still remained unsatisfied.
It only made Agatha cross her arms and try to stare Death down.
"It represents that every once in a while, my love, I want to win," Rio said.
Agatha searched her expression for a moment, then snatched the flower crown and put it on her head, arranging it neatly. "Are you happy?" she snapped.
"Euphoric," Rio said, catching Agatha's wrist and tugging her into an embrace. "Ecstatic."
"Great," Agatha drawled, her arms looping around Rio’s waist. “So happy. But just so you know, this has nothing to do with your former status as a god. If the Mother herself came and tried to force me to wear this ridiculous thing, I’d tell her no.”
Rio raised an eyebrow. Agatha rarely invoked the Goddess and never in play, the deity was one of the few things she seemed to take seriously, far more seriously than she often took Rio. “Then why?”
Agatha couldn’t quite meet her eyes. ”Because apparently you care,” she murmured. “And I want—you know.”
“To make me happy?”
Agatha inclined her head in agreement. “That.”
“Ags, do you know what would make me very happy?”
Agatha tugged her closer, pressed an overwhelmingly gentle kiss to her lips. "I love you," she said. "I must, right? I'm letting you win."
Rio couldn't help but melt against her lover, always delighted by Agatha managing to be momentarily romantic. "More than a hundred temples," she murmured.
"But consider, my sweet, that we could probably gain more benefit from the temples," Agatha said, slightly too smug with her own amusement.
"Oh, well, if you want me to go off and start a religion���"
Agatha's arms tightened hard around her waist, dragged Rio tighter against her. "No," she said and sometimes Agatha really did get it entirely right, looked at her like the last thing in the world she wanted was for Rio to go anywhere, even if that anywhere might benefit her. "Stay right here, on a dirt road with me."
Rio kissed her in answer, kissed her and kept kissing her until Agatha's cheeks were as red as her mouth. "Always, beloved," she murmured.
Agatha cleared her throat, flushed down her neck. "…We should get going," she said, sliding her fingers through Rio's.
"Sure, Agatha."
It took longer than Rio had expected after they had set off again, hand in hand, for Agatha to glance at her and ask plaintively, "Rio, how long do I have to wear this thing?"
"A little longer, please. It suits you," Rio said, and couldn't stop herself from giggling at the pained expression on her lover's face.
"You would make a very petty deity," Agatha complained.
"Agatha Harkness, you should talk."
That made Agatha burst into delighted, cackling laughter. She bumped her shoulder against Rio's. "…Now there's an idea. I'd take a few hundred temples in my honor.
"If you like," Rio said. "I don't mind if you scam people who worship you."
"Want to start a religion?"
"I want to do almost anything, so long as its with you."
Agatha squeezed her hand, perhaps in acknowledgement of the compliment, a sign that Agatha might be capable of learning after all, then began to workshop a possible religion as they continued their walk down the road together.
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youareinlove · 2 months ago
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can you say what your interpretation of hoax is? both about the song in general and if it was inspired by her last relationship
(by last relationship i mean joe cause’ i don’t consider that other thing a rs)
we know it's about three things: a business relationship that went wrong (scott b), the loss of something that was like family (karlie), and enduring love (joe). i think the key to understanding it is understanding that these three things felt the same way to her at the time, and that at the time, she couldn't figure out why. hoax is a song about betrayal, and while initially, i think it was intended to be about betrayals that caused her a lot of pain and then the person who was the salvation from the pain, it's got shades of...something deeper there. like yes, it is about someone willing to sit there and keep believing in you even when you don't believe in yourself or that they could possibly really love you through this. it's also about that same person making you feel really defeated and hurt by not letting you do the same for them (while Other Issues are starting to rear their head). to put it plainly, it's about three betrayals, and it's only just started making sense (both to her and to us) why one felt like the others
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palskippah · 1 month ago
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Hi! Nimona told him to do a thumbs up (also I hope you get the reference image because I couldn't find it ajkdsad)
There's some mpreg headcanons and drawings under the cut! :D
By the way the limit of images is 30 so I had to make some longer images with comics to save space and put more drawings 😭
-Also, small continuation from the previous drawing:
(I wrote baby album but maybe it should be those albums that people keep of the pregnancy process ajskd)
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-When Ballister first started showing, he was a bit insecure about it, but Ambrosius helped with that, in the romantic sense of worshipping and whatever, but also like this:
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Translation (did my best to see how to translate it sorry sdjksd it works better in spanish)
1 Ballister: I think it's too soon to be getting fat- Ambrosius: You know what else is getting fat? 2 Ambrosius: Who said that
-Ballister goes through the denial of needing new clothes, so imagine him still wearing the stuff he usually wears and Nimona coming from behind and picking at the clothes by his shoulder and going in a high-pitched voice, as if the shirt was talking - I'm tired, boss while Ballister swats her away and say, leave me alone, it still fits me >:(
(it doesn't)
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>Also Ballister absolutely refusing to wear maternity clothes, the only one he got he was like, wearing it and looking very unimpressed, and Ambrosius' like, you don't like it? :( and Ballister says, No. It's ugly as fuck >:(
>So, he just gets bigger shirts and stretch-ier pants and that's it. Also he gets an oversized hoodie and he says that's gonna be his best friend the rest of the pregnancy, and both Nimona and Ambrosius gasp offendedly at that.
So-
Ambrosius (turning to look at Nimona): What the- hey, I am his best friend. Nimona: Course not! You lost that privilege with what happened that one time (she means the movie events, more than five years ago) Ballister: Ambrosius' my best friend, Nimona. Ambrosius: HAH >:D Nimona: Aw :( Ballister: Because you're my sidekick :) Nimona: :D Ambrosius: Hey, what now- that sounds better than best friend :(
-Ballister during most of the pregnancy is like, woo baby :) but at the very last months he's at least half of the time pissed off, tired and done with being pregnant.
(my incredible math skills in the next point)
>70% of that time he's mad at Ambrosius (who made him pregnant), 20% mad at Nimona (who consciously (and sometimes unconsciously) gets on his nerves) and the remaining 10 he's pissed off at Baby (and he gets sad about that one, because he's just a baby, so he redirects it at Ambrosius instead 😔)
>Ambrosius does his best to be of help but usually there's nothing he can do aside from being there (and sometimes getting out of Ballister's sight, if he's really angry- in the sense of 'I don't even want to see you now')
>Most of the time Ballister just cools off.
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-Also Ambrosius giving him massages, sometimes randomly on his shoulders or his feet, and sometimes something more elaborated, like Ballister laying down and him using body oil, setting the ambient and all to massage his back (and Ballister almost always falls asleep in those).
>Sometimes tho he just does a 'chop chop chop' at his shoulders (it doesn't do anything besides amusing Ballister and keeping him company)
>Also Nimona said that of course he'd just randomly start chopping Ballister while Ballister does nothing about it, so Ambrosius starts chopping her instead
(made these two drawings with like three weeks of difference ajdkad)
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(N/SFW thingies on the next four points and the next four images)
-Also with that previous point imagine Ballister waking up all angry, and Ambrosius just not knowing what he can do for him to stop being mad, but it turns out that Ballister had just woken up horny and pent-up.
>And once he realizes, he's like Ambrosius... (with intentions of getting some), and Ambrosius is like 🧍? because a second ago Ballister wasn't even looking at him.
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-Also with this, Ballister is just very much hornier now (after the first trimester which was the worst) and Ambrosius doesn't mind at all - except when his jaw gets sore or he's running late for work because they lost track of time and also other situations ajsdks but usually he's delighted.
>(In the drawing Ballister just crossed one leg over the other once he heard Ambrosius coming in, because he can't maintain the position too long without getting uncomfortable sdjksj)
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-Whenever Ballister is like >:c and looking in Ambrosius' direction, he immediately assumes that his husband is angry at him.
>Y'know when you look intensely at someone so they feel your gaze and look at you back? Ballister here is trying to apply that, but it doesn't work bc of the previous point askdad
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-I had written sometime (I think) about them blaming Baby on literally anything that has more or less to do with him. If Ballister's crying, if he forgets stuff, if Nimona coddles Ballister too much and pisses him off, if Ambrosius wastes all the cleaning product in two weeks because he had been cleaning too much (he's nesting and realizes that sometime later), if Nimona and Ballister eat the weirdest stuff that at least he wouldn't eat in normal circumstances- and a long etc.
-During Ballister's pregnancy, Nimona works the most she had ever worked in her existence (in the biscuit factory):
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-Both Nimona and Ambrosius are the most supportive c: yippie. Supportive husband/best friend and supportive sidekick/friend/sibling/etc
>An example would be of Ballister being tired, and if the time allows, the other two will immediately suggest a nap.
>Their collective naps usually last hours and they wake up disoriented, sweaty, with drool and the sheets marked on their faces.
>Also they wake up almost always stacked, Nimona always under the other two.
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Translation
Nimona and Ballister: (snoring) Ambrosius: Fuck- what year is it? (tries to lift himself up)
-Also Nimona is the self-assigned pregnancy pillow, and at first Ballister had refused to let her do that, but as a sidekick she took it upon herself to make sure that her boss was comfy and could sleep well - and Ballister reminded her that that's not what sidekicks are for. She said, fuck off I'll do it anyways >:c
>Anyways he sleeps great with her help and earns himself a huge told you so from Nimona.
>I had written a thingy where just when she woke up she was like good morning boss :D while Ballister also said good morning and she hugged him while pushing Ambrosius away, even out of bed. I can't remember where I left it but once I find it, I'll see if it's good for posting pipipi Also Ballister and Ambrosius are corny husbands
>Also here I drew my vague idea of a bear bc I was too lazy to look for Nimona bear references sowwy
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-Nimona sometimes shapeshifts into Ballister to make fun of him.
(This one joke gets lost in translation which is a shame but I'm gonna share the comic anyways sdjs)
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>(She's messing around about names, doing a play in words using Gloreth's name while Ballister is already warning her to stop)
>Nimona urges them to get a name soon because Baby is almost born, and they're like yeah chill we're on it - and they're both sitting on the sofa, with Ballister's legs over Ambrosius' lap, while Ballister goes through their list on his tablet and Ambrosius focuses on giving him a massage on his feet.
They're like-
Ballister: So, Cyril? Ambrosius: No, my horse at the Institute was called that. Ballister: Right, then not that one... What about Casper? Ambrosius: Hmm... no. Ballister: Why not? Ambrosius: I don't know, I just don't really like it. Do you? Ballister: Eh, it's alright, I guess. I don't think Baby looks like a Casper, though Nimona: You don't even know how he looks yet! Ballister: You shut up, kid >:v Ballister: So, what about…
And they're making nearly to none progress but yeah sjdsd
>Also imagine Nimona (as Ballister) imitating what he does now that he's pregnant but x10 times more.
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Translations
1 AUGHH- MY BACK 2 FUCKING AMBROSIUS! 3 Ambrosito? Can you get me a sweet treat? 🥺 4 I'M HUGE WAAA
>And while Ballister is like wtf I don't act like that, he turns to Ambrosius like, do I act like that? 😥 And Ambrosius, who was laughing to himself, goes, well... not so intensely, which is good enough for Ballister.
>But Nimona points out to what Ballister is eating with a mocking smile (and it is weird to be mocked by a version of himself that has a pink strand on his hair, but whatever), and he's like ? what? and realizes that he did ask for a sweet treat almost like Nimona depicted he does, because he did pull the big sparkly eyes and he did call Ambrosius Ambrosito while at it.
>Then he's wondering if he really complains about his back like that (he does, but as Ambrosius said, he isn't so intense about it, usually just holding his lower back and throwing his head back as he winces. Normal)
>(the yelling insults at Ambrosius is definitely not true. But he does throw daggers at him with his eyes when he's angry, he has to admit to himself)
>Now, about crying because he feels huge- yes. Very much true, but he doesn't wail. Just sobs and cries a river like the sensible, serious adult he is.
-Also that thing of knights don't cry and whatever. This one knight does cry, and he cries a lot (at least while he's pregnant).
>He cried once because he dreamt that Nimona was a little spider and even though he warned Ambrosius to be careful, he accidentally crushed her and he woke up not only incredibly sad but also upset with Ambrosius, even though he was aware that it was silly to get mad with him over a dream.
>Nimona was like boss :( while hugging him, and Ambrosius had to scoot a bit away because Ballister didn't even want to look at him as he wept. Ambrosius said a lot of reassuring words of I'm sorry, I think I didn't see her :( while Ballister was like, but I warned you so many times :'[
>Then he was like, I promise you, I'd never hurt Nimona. And Nimona herself said, yeah boss, I'd crush him first, don't you worry about it :) and Ballister said, but I couldn't protect you :''[ while hugging her harder.
>And both Nimona and Ambrosius are (internally) like, ohh, so that's what it's about.
>Anyways, just a bunch of hugging and comforting gets him to feel a little less sad and also Nimona saying, but you're great at protecting me now :D so, there's all that sdjksd
-Sometimes Ballister just breaks down over seemingly the most trivial stuff too (which is usually just the last straw over a bunch of other stuff going on)
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Translation
1 Ambrosius: Balli? What happened? D: Ballister (with one eyeline going up and the other going down): Ambrosito, my eyeline's crooked* *the straw that broke the camel's back (his hair isn't cooperating) (his back hurts) (done) (clothes feel uncomfortable) (the baby won't stay still) 2 Ambrosius (doing Ballister's eyeline): Stay very still, love (focused) 3 (they're in front of the mirror) Ballister (laughing his ass off): BUT HOW DID YOU MAKE IT EVEN MORE CROOKED?! Ambrosius (embarrassed): Aw Ballister (holding his belly): Ow, Baby, don't kick me, sorry, sorry! I'll stay still now-
>(Y'know when a pregnant person laughs the baby inside gets all shaken skdsd I find it funny, so imagine Baby being like ??!! because Ballister keeps laughing too hard and shaking him all around and his kicks are like him going, stay the fuck still D:<) (Ballister's still weepy but now he's crying with laughter, which is better than him crying from being overwhelmed)
-Also Ballister's very scared of giving birth but he's very good at pretending that Baby will simply materialize in his arms rather than him having to push him out.
(Drawings based over this)
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Translation
1 Ballister happy because his baby is almost born 2 (Remembers that he has to give birth to him)
-The day that he was in labor and all, imagine the water just breaking and stuff and Nimona being like 'okay everyone DON'T PANIC' while panicking and also Ballister's panicking too (Ambrosius' at work and when he's told he also panics and arrives at the hospital in record time still wearing his armor. The power of first-time father panic)
(But someone gotta be not panicking in the situation, so Ambrosius calms the fuck down and becomes the calming presence that Ballister can rely on c: also Nimona calms down too and goes back to being herself and is very good at distracting Ballister while he goes through contractions and the hours before pushing.)
>Also y'know how in TV sometimes someone else imitates the pregnant person's breathing exercises by going huff huff huff quickly ajsdkjd
>Also Ballister going Nimona what about the bags and also don't carry me there?! and her going shit right and ignoring the second half, then returning for the bags and grabbing them, all while holding Ballister like a doll (a doll with a little doll inside SJDS pregnant barbie)
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En español pensaba que fuera = AYÚDENLO, SE LE SALE LA WAWA - NIMONA DEJA DE HACER SHOW
-Wrote a lil something about Baby's birth and Ballister going through kinda a rollercoaster of emotions because at the very beginning of the pushing stage he almost had a panic attack, but then everyone in the room helped him calm down, and when he thought everything was going great, the doctor offered Ambrosius to receive their baby, and of course his husband was very excited about it and said yes, getting dressed up in the medical gown, the facemask, the gloves and all that.
(Initially everything after that was supposed to go swiftly, but I thought, no, what if Ambrosius faints like some dads do? and after watching a TikTok of a woman whose partner did faint and they had to pause her birth to hold him up because he was like over 6 feet tall, I was like hell yeah that's it)
>When Ambrosius finally got between Ballister's legs to look, his blood pressure went the fuck down. And since he's pretty tall and the nurse that tried to catch him was pretty short, the other one had to join in and then the doctor too to avoid him slamming on the ground. The thing was that Ambrosius was clearly fighting very hard against unconsciousness, giving the three people holding him false hope about him finally holding his own weight, making them almost drop him multiple times.
>Sensibly, the situation was kinda scary, because the three people assisting his baby's birth were busy trying to hold his husband from fainting. Said husband was clearly fighting with everything he got to keep himself conscious, and Ballister could very much feel his baby crowning.
>But seeing three short people trying to hold Ambrosius up and yelping when they almost dropped him several times, and remembering that Ambrosius had been so excited about it but hadn't been able to even stand the view, and feeling pretty nervous because his main emotional support couldn't even keep himself awake-, made him crack up.
>So, he's laughing out loud and going every once in a while, owfuck- because it still hurts like a bitch, while the other three keep going, YOU'LL DROP HIM. BE CAREFUL, SIR?? SIR, CAN YOU HEAR ME? and Ambrosius' like, yea- (faints again)
>(they're well aware that they gotta deliver the baby, so they're doing their best to hurry Ambrosius to get out of the way)
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>The whole thing had made Ballister's body feel weak from the laughter, and he had to try and calm down to have strength again and push the baby out.
>As you'd guess, Ambrosius didn't receive their baby, and had to sit down and eat something sweet to not faint again, but he managed to stay on his feet well enough to cut the umbilical cord yippie.
>So anyways, Baby out, wrapped and all that, Ballister kept laughing more quietly about it and saying that they should mark the date in the calendar to celebrate Ambrosius fainting over almost delivering their baby. And Ambrosius' like hmm, I don't know Balli, maybe we could use this date for our son's birthday, don't you think? and Ballister's like OH RIGHT and now started laughing at himself.
I keep thinking of new stuff that contradicts what I already have posted, sowwy
>Imagine Ambrosius practically begging Ballister to not tell Nimona, while the other says she'd love to know but also is aware that she'd never let Ambrosius live it down, so he agrees on not telling her. Both eventually tell both Nimona and Baby when the latter is older and inquired about his birth, and indeed, Nimona loved the anecdote, and never let Ambrosius live it down, since then.
-Ideas about Nimona infiltrating the room in the form of a nurse after Baby is born and blowing up her cover when she commented on the baby's nose being just like Gol- Mr. Goldenheart's. And also, his hair being black like Bo- Mr. Goldenheart's.
>At the beginning when they had been admiring their baby, Ambrosius had said, he got your hair D': pipipi (he cried the second Baby got placed in his arms, got a drawing of that but I don't like how it came out wah, Ambrosius' wearing a facemask and being all tear-eyed pipipi) and Ballister had said, he got your nose :D but Ambrosius had said no? that's just a baby's nose, how can you even tell. But after Nimona commented on it, Ballister's saying told you so, it's your nose, while Ambrosius' like, Mr. Goldenheart could be either of us (both smiling amusedly because Nimona's too silly and they clearly know it's her, but she's all idk who's Nimona?)
-Also, I don't know how to make that work with the idea that when she got kicked out to the hall for the pushing bit, she went to steal some flowers and balloons with 'it's a boy!' on them for Ballister. But anyways, I'll write that bit too.
-Also this is Goldenheart with their baby, and I drew it a while back but realized that I don't like it anymore, so I'll do a redrawing someday sdjksd
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>Imagine that Ambrosius was in the hospital bed with Baby while Ballister was getting ready so they could leave to their home, and Nimona said pictures timeee and then took that pic, with Ballister pointing at Baby and being all :D Also, Ambrosius looked pretty good and all, and Ballister was all unshaven face, kinda messy hair, the hospital band with his name still wrapped on his wrist as he pointed at Baby, and yet there were some people online that were like ??! Ambrosius Goldenloin Goldenheart was pregnant??
>And the people that knew even if a little bit about the Goldenheart's life, and also because they still went out and whatever, were like ? no? didn't you see Ballister like, a week ago? (Where he was very obviously pregnant and Ambrosius clearly wasn't sdjkdj)
>Every once in a while, Nimona would remember about this and repost it again, even after Baby is much older.
And that's it! If you read till here, bless you ajsdkadj
I've got more stuff about mpreg, both written and drawn, so I hope to make another post like this sometime, they're very fun to make :D
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sanemisstalker · 1 year ago
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N/SFW. Minors DNI
CW: GN reader / Men's Mental Health IG ???
KNY characters that I think are more prone to cumming in their pants / NSFW
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Giyu
-He's inexperienced.
-I admire the almost fandom consensus of him being either resident, sexy, black haired, quiet anime boy, and/or 'nobody likes this friendless loser, he definitely has a tumblr'
-Any attention, platonic or not, from someone he's attracted to is enough to make Giyu get an apparent boner. He's prone to them when the people he admires say genuinely nice things to him.
-He doesn't get to hear nice things a lot, nor does he take compliments easily, so when he believes them, his body can't help but believe them too.
-He'd rather it not be that way, but due to his floundering mental health, and general isolation, Giyu isn't jerking off very often, nor is he able to get it up when he wants to, so he just goes... months without thinking about it sometimes.
-Could definitely cum from kissing too hard. Not just kissing, but particularly the rough treatment.
-Giyu must be incredibly touch starved, I imagine. I can't fiction the last time he's hugged someone. That scene where he's holding Shinobu, perhaps?
-So when he's getting so much attention, especially so much positive, romantic attention, even if it's a little rough, I'm sure his dick would be at full mast.
-he doesn't think he's predisposed to masochism or anything. He'd hope he wasn't, but it feels better when he's kissing, and maybe his hair is being pulled on, just a little.
-he'd be very embarassed. He wouldn't cry or anything, but I think he'd get up and leave the room. He knows you knew what happened, he didn't moan, but he flinched because the build up was so immediate, and he just couldn't stop.
-How pathetic. He can't show his face infront of you ever again. All he does is ruin good things. You're definitely disgusted by him.
-Even if he didn't realize how pretty his face looked during his orgasm.
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Gyutaro
-Everyday I fight the gyutaro incel allegations, and everyday I fail.
-Gyutaro is socially inept, to put it blatantly. He spends an incredible amount of time locked away in his sister, and rarely chooses to come out unless eating for the two, or-
-if he needs to jerk off. A rarity, nowadays. Looking the way he looks can do a real number on one's ability to self-pleasure. He also isn't able to seek out assistance from any brothels- He still looks the way he looks. He's no Muzan- blessed with the ability to change his appearance at will.
-So when you're on top of Gyutaro, and he feels the curve of your ass in his palm, and your sex is positioned right on top of his, just barely grazing his clothed cock, as you try and teach him how to kiss (he's doing his best, but he knows he's not good-)
-He cums, and he cums hard. He grips down on your hips, and goes wide eyed, unable to stop the moan that rips its way from his throat... and then quickly moves you off of him.
-He isn't even finished when he moves you, he's shakey armed, and he nearly drops you.
-he's mortified. After all this time, he finally gets someone willing to touch him, and he blows it. He's borderline inconsolable- switching between begging you not to look at him and begging you not to hate him-
-but the noise he made was just so... pathetic.
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Haganezuka
-Men dedicated to their craft don't have time to cum? Silly of you to assume he's ever even seen another person naked. That would imply he looked away from a sword for long enough to register it.
-On a completely serious note (as serious as I can be writing this), It'd be quite awkward interacting with Haganezuka sexually. His mind has been so consumed by perfection that, even if he wasn't dedicated to the blade, he's almost prevented himself from ever being able to cum in a social setting.
-He's developed a phobia of new situations he can't control. Especially sexual ones. Swords are easy and gratifying. Why would he ever need to cum when he can just make a sword and have it be respected and revered. Wouldn't that be nice-
-So when you started rubbing him over his pants, he was, admittedly, panicking. It's not like he went nearly 4 decades without using his dick... He'd just... gone 2 and a half decades without using his dick. Nowhere near the same.
-You'd barely even touched it, barely even pressed your lips to his neck, and Haganezuka was panting.
-The fear coursing through his veins, and the attention his forgotten cock was receiving- He grew more unsightly by the second...
-and then you pressed a particularly soft kiss to the corner of his lips and he was done for. That was his first kiss-
-Though shocked, you'd pump Haganezuka through his orgasm. It'd be enough to go through his pants, and spill over your hand.
-He'd grip your robes, and will you closer to him. His heels would slam into the floorboard, and he'd try to bury his face in your neck, attempting to muffle the groan he'd loose, only to fail tremendously.
-He'd be huffy after. Mad at himself and disguising it as being mad at you.
-'Well, maybe you shouldn't touch me anymore, if you found it so gross! Did you consider that? Just not touching me- ever?'
-but you saw how sad he looked when you said you'd do whatever he wanted. What a simple man.
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sundrop-writes · 5 months ago
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Mister Mxyzptlk
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Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Blurb
Word Count: 800
Sundrop's Main Masterlist
Warnings: mentions of bullying (Stiles being bullied for having a 'weird' name); mentions of Stiles's trauma surrounding his mother's death; obscure comic book references; this is mostly just fluff - very light implications toward sexual themes, flirting and romantic attraction between Stiles and the reader.
A/N: So, the last time I was actively watching Teen Wolf (when S3 and S4 were airing) I thought it was a running gag that Stiles's real name was never revealed and it was just always a mystery to the audience (like how it's a gag in Degrassi that Heather St. Claire's face is never seen). But when I saw a tiktok showing his real name, I was shocked, and then entirely amused by it. And I was also really offended because I'm watching S1 for the first time and the coach calls Stiles's name 'child abuse' and his father doesn't even dispute that, knowing that it's a family name to honour his dead mother's side of the family. And the fact that he is a character whose real name is very hard to pronounce and very few people actually know what it is got me thinking about the comic book character - Mister Mxyzptlk - and I realized that Stiles, being a comic book nerd who is always referencing things like The Incredible Hulk and Batman and Robin, would fucking love that comparison. Thus, this mini fic. Usually, this is an idea I would save and put it as a moment in a longer fic, but I'm not currently working a fic where I feel like this fits in, so it has become its own mini fic. Random idea, but enjoy this random fluff.
...
"Is Stiles your real name?"
You inquired lightly, walking out of school with Scott and Stiles.
"It's something I've been wondering since we met."
Stiles felt a unique anxiety clutch in his chest at this question. He hated telling people his real name, especially when those people were pretty girls. Especially when they were pretty girls he had only met a week ago who were new in town who otherwise didn't know what a reputation he had for being a loser and could form their own opinions of him.
He could see any chance he had with you being flushed down the drain at top speed. But it wasn't much different from any other girl he previously had a crush on.
"Cause, I thought maybe it was your last name. Guys who play sports usually do that - always call each other by their last names." You went on, not sensing the awkwardness as Scott and Stiles eyed each other heavily, waiting for the other person to speak. "But I heard the coach calling you Balinski?"
"Stilinski." Stiles corrected you. "I think he gets my name wrong on purpose to belittle me." He gave a fake laugh to play it off, but you frowned.
"Stiles is a nickname." Scott added on, trying to usher Stiles away from the awkwardness of having to tell you himself. "His real first name is... really hard to pronounce, and not a lot of people at our school even know it. So - everyone just knows him as Stiles."
This brought Stiles back to a painful memory - in fourth grade, someone had seen the attendance sheet with his real name on it, and showed it to everyone else. And this had started a barrage of bullying and rumours about how he had gotten the name.
Some said that his mother hated him as soon as he was born and wanted to name him something really ugly to match him. Some said that his mother had a brain tumour and she named him in such an odd manner because her brain was 'mush' when he was born. And whenever people in the halls mockingly called him 'tumour baby' or 'brain tumour' - then he had to painfully be reminded of his mother's absence from his life.
"So you're like Mister Mxyzptlk?" You posed, a smile coming across your face from the joy of making such an apt reference.
Stiles looked at you then, unsure if he had heard you correctly - but his heart started to beat faster and he was sure that his crush developed into full, heart-stopping love in that moment.
A gorgeous, cute, sweet girl like you making such an obscure dorky reference - there was nobody else. Nobody else would ever make him feel the way you had in that moment.
Scott was entirely confused, looking between the two of you with utter dumbness across his face, wondering why Stiles' heart rate had increased so much.
"Ugh - yeah." Stiles stuttered out awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"So, is learning your real name the power to defeating you?" You posed, smoothing your voice into a sultry tone, stepping closer to Stiles, running a hand up his bare forearm - clearly flirting now. "Do I get three chances to moan it in your ear without making a mistake before you're allowed to do whatever you want to me?"
Scott regretted his super-hearing, being able to catch exactly what you said in a low whisper against Stiles's ear.
Stiles's brain was short-circuiting.
You were making nerdy references and coming onto him now. His blood was rioting between rushing to his pants and giving him a heart attack, and soon, before he could stop it, he practically shouted:
"Marry me!"
And while this would have been a colossally awkward fumble with any other girl, you simply giggled and smiled.
"You're so cute." You complimented in return, reaching out to gently 'boop' a finger against his nose.
Stiles continued to gape at you, feeling like he needed to say more, needed to communicate just how epicly wonderful you were in his eyes.
"Chocolate? Or vanilla? Our wedding cake could have 4 tiers, or we could get one of those cupcake tower things, I heard those are really trendy."
You let out another laugh, thinking that he was joking - not realising that he was already picking out an engagement ring in his head, and wondering which comic book characters you would name your children after.
"We can start with a date." You told him. "Friday. After the game."
He nodded.
"Yes, date." He agreed eagerly. "A date would be amazing."
"I have to get going now." You added on - and he felt like he was floating when you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before you departed. "See you later?"
"Everyday for the rest of our lives." Stiles mumbled quietly, entirely love-struck.
"What the hell was that?" Scott asked, still entirely baffled.
"We shall have a spring wedding." Stiles replied, his eyes still locked on your back as you walked away - clearly, he was still caught up in the euphoria of the interaction.
Scott had to drag him away.
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meanbossart · 10 days ago
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im so curious-- how well does DUDrow get on with the other companions? I've only seen your art and going off that I feel like: he gets along with Shadowheart, Gale I think he borderline cant stand, and Wyll/Lae'zel/Karlach I have no idea how he'd feel about them but id love to know!
So, funfact, because I was not familiar with these kinds of games at the time I played BG3, I practically stuck with the same exact party the entire playthrough. I distinctly remember swapping Wyll in for Astarion once at the end of act 2 because I thought he NEEDED to be there to find Mizora, and I replaced Gale with Karlach when I went to kill Gortash. Otherwise... It was pretty much always just DU drow, Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale. I did this because they were the characters I liked most, so I wanted to see all they had to offer.
Anyways, I mention this because it reflects how DU drow related to everyone - which is to say that he didn't. He picked his favorites (two because he liked them, one because he has fireball) and didn't get particularly close to anyone else.
BUT, there were definitely notable dynamics!
Lae'zel: She's dead. He killed her night 3 or something. Before that he thought her annoyingly demanding and over the top. I don't think DU drow even remembers her by the end of the game.
Gale: Just to add to your original observation, Gale and DU drow have a little bit of history. Gale tries, for about half of the campaign, to pursue him romantically. DU drow keeps turning him down and is either misinterpreted or ignored, and by the time Gale does give up on him their relationship has completely soured to the point where they are constantly shooting daggers at each other. (this reflects a romance bug I got in my first run, except I didn't realize it was a bug. Either way I think its more interesting storytelling than the intended experience.)
Wyll: DU drow was profoundly frustrated by Wyll every step of the way. He found him to be incredibly naive and a bit delusional in his pursuit for heroism, and could never relate to Wyll's perspective or choices - the few he made for himself, at least. They definitely had the least in common and DU drow avoided interacting with him most of the time.
Halsin: He didn't care for Halsin much. He was vaguely helpful but by the time they got to the shadow-cursed lands DU drow had the impression he'd only been dragged here to help him clear his conscience, which he didn't appreciate. Also, he couldn't bear to have someone in camp be taller than himself. Halsin was left behind in Act 2.
Jaheira: DU drow fucking loves Jaheira. They bickered and borderline insulted each other and had a great time doing it. He can respect anyone who will call him a monster, threaten to murder him in his sleep, and make light fun at him the next day. It helps that she's hot, also.
Minsc: Weird hamster man. Ocasionally rendered him speechless. Puzzling human being.
Karlach: He didn't get Karlach, but he was often amused by her and curious enough to want to hear what she had to say. There was a similar issue here as Wyll's where he just couldn't relate to her enough to have much to discuss, but Karlach at least had an edge to her that made her far better company. They got along pretty well when the topic wasn't serious, but when it came to the problems she actually faced their perspectives shifted significantly. DU drow thought everything could be fixed, that accepting her own demise was a cowardly thing to do - and as they approached the end, and she asked him if he would stay with her when she died, he thought she was weak. I don't know if he ever discusses it with anyone, but he feels guilty about her death to this day and sees it as personal failure.
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 5 months ago
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the queen of ice. l Joel Miller
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Summary: you got into trouble when the ice broke beneath you, and it wasn't just because of your wet clothes
Warnings: +18 smut, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do that), talking about nonsense, Joel is romantic but we all know what he means
A/N: I don't know how it happened, but it happened. I hope you like it at least a little bit
It was a second. Just a second.
"Joel?!"
Your voice broke, and after a moment you disappeared under the layer of ice that split under your feet. He already knew that he would never forget this moment.
Just a few minutes ago you were arguing about some stupid thing, or at least now it was stupid to him. His heart stopped for a moment and eyes widened in utter terror.
“Y/N?!” Joel called out, running towards the dark surface of water.
He slipped on the icy snow, but quickly got up, afraid to lose even a second.
You didn't know what happened. You heard a soft crack and you knew you were in trouble. In the next few moments, thousands of needles pierced your body as you plunged into the icy water. Your brain just shut down. But your body wanted to fight.
Taking your first breath of the cold air was another torture. But you couldn't let go. Your clothes were incredibly heavy, but you tried as hard as you could to get to the shore.
Someone grabbed your arms tightly and pulled you onto the icy shore.
Joel...
He hadn't been this scared in a long time.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he repeated as he tried to feel any injuries on your body with his hands.
“C-Cold…” you muttered, “F-Fuck.”
"How did this happen?"
"It just c-crack."
You let out a moan, your whole body hurting incredibly. 
You would give anything not to feel all this. Your muscles contracted and tensed, and your entire body was covered with wet clothes that stuck to you like duct tape. It took you a moment to realize that you were grinding your teeth and that your lips and fingers were twitching from lack of control.
Someone took you in their arms and lifted you from the ground, quickly heading towards the nearby buildings.
Joel...
Just like for you, for him, every minute felt like at least an hour. When he took you in his arms, he felt as if he had lifted an ice sculpture.
If his heart had stopped for a moment before, it was now pounding like crazy in his chest. The faint wisp of steam rising from between your lips signaled that you were alive, but if he didn't quickly find a place to hide you from the cold, if he didn't warm you up...
He didn't want to think about it. You were already close to the first building and Joel opened the door by hitting it with his shoulder. He rushed into the dusty room that must have been the living room and placed you on the couch.
"Y/N? Y/N?" he repeated your name nervously. “Are you still with me? Say something?”
"I-I'm not a c-closed case yet." you whispered, a faint smile gracing his face for a second.
"It's not funny." he replied, "But if you keep talking nonsense like that, I guess it will happen." his fingers quickly found the zipper on your jacket. “You have to take off these wet clothes or you'll freeze.”
"I h-haven't done it yet?"
The jacket, sweatshirt, shirt and t-shirt were all sticking to your body that it took Joel a while to get it off. When he grabbed your jeans, something that was probably supposed to be laughter escaped your throat.
"T-That's the worst p-part." you said.
"Yeah, I imagined it differently too." he replied, struggling with your jeans. “Don't move. I have some shirts in my backpack. Maybe we can find some blankets.”
You curled up on the couch as more shivers racked your body.
He pulled his flannel shirt out of his backpack and with a little help from you, he managed to put it on you since your fingers were stiff. He threw his jacket over you and then quickly started searching the house.
You heard the sound of his footsteps as he searched each room. The cabinets opened and closed with a bang. You wanted to close your eyes so much.
"Fuck!"
The sound of falling chairs reached your ears.
"Y/N? Are you still there?" he shouted from upstairs.
"I think so." you replied hoarsely.
"Talk to me! I want to hear you!"
You rested your head against the headrest of the couch and closed your eyes slightly. In a strange way, the cold was subsiding. It wasn't as bothersome anymore.
“Y/N?!”
The violent jerk sent your head flying forward like a rag doll.
"Hey! Don't fall asleep, Y/N." Joel patted your cheek and you opened your eyes for a moment. “Good girl. I found something that... What the hell are you doing?”
"It's so hot in here, Joel. So fucking hot!"
"Put that back on! Jesus, you're such a pain in the ass, but now you have to listen to me!" Miller pulled your shirt back over you and then threw some blankets over your back. “You're going to stay here and not move, do you understand me? Naaah! We're awake, Y/N!”
"You're such a whiner, Joel." you whined, "Okay, I won't sleep. I won't."
"Talk to me, okay? Damn, your legs are so cold!"
He started rubbing your legs to restore circulation, and you tried to focus your eyes on something so as not to think about how terrible the situation you were in.
"You were supposed to talk to me." Joel said after a moment.
He seemed a little calmer now, but he didn't stop rubbing your cold legs. Your gaze fell on his dark hair sprinkled with gray, and those adorable wrinkles around his eyes that became more pronounced when he smiled.
"I wish you would smile more often." you finally said.
"You're not giving me a reason to do that now, Ice Queen." he replied, but despite everything, you saw a slight smile on his face. “You almost made me have a heart attack. Don't do that again.”
"I can't promise. It's kind of nice to have someone take care of you."
"I always care about you."
"By calling me a pain in the ass?" You muttered in mock anger.
"Because you are." Joel reached for your hands. “You're freezing. I need to make you something warm to drink right now.”
"You shouldn't light a fire. Someone might find us."
His hands were so pleasantly warm that your skin almost melted under his touch.
"It's getting dark now. I can handle it. How are you feeling?"
"Better, although my underwear is still cold."
"I can help you take it off." Joel said, but then he realized how it sounded. "Or I can leave and you deal with it yourself."
"Yeah, I guess I'll do that."
A dozen or so minutes later, you were holding a cup of warm water in your hands. Joel was trying to prepare something to eat, and he hung up your clothes because you both hoped they would dry before you left the place. Outside, the snow was falling more and more, but you closed the curtains and in the dim light, the room seemed quite nice.
"A farm? I can't imagine you could live in a place like that."
"Why not? What's wrong with that?" you laughed and adjusted the blankets that were wrapped around you.
Joel kept insisting that you talk to him because he was afraid it wouldn't be safe for you to fall asleep yet. You, on the other hand, thought that, as usual, he was exaggerating and being overprotective.
"You seem like a city girl." he replied, handing you what had previously been canned soup.
"There are probably no such people in today's situation, don't you think?"
"Maybe. But the farm?" Joel sat down next to you and took a sip of soup. “What would you be doing there?”
"You're mocking me, Miller!" you nudged his shoulder. “I don't know what I would do exactly, but we're talking hypothetically, right?”
Joel nodded.
"I think I'd have chickens, a little garden. And a swing."
"Why a swing?" the man looked at you surprised.
"For the kids, right? I wouldn't live there alone. Nice guy and a couple of kids, sounds good."
He nodded and thought for a moment. For a moment, your vision appeared in his head. It was nice. He could easily imagine the small farm, the kids running around the house, and those damned chickens.
"And you?" your voice broke him out of his thoughts. “What would you do if you could choose?”
"I want a quiet life." he replied after a while, "Nothing special."
"There will be a peaceful life on my farm. And there will definitely be a place for you." you set the empty cup down and turned around so you could see Joel more clearly. “The chickens shouldn't bother you.”
"What about the children? Or their father?"
"You're ruining my dream, Miller. I offer you peace and a quiet life on my farm, and you make me realize that the chances of all this happening are tragically low."
"Okay, okay! I'll take this room." he held up his hands in surrender. "Even though I know I'll get in trouble for this."
He finished his meal calmly, and the farm in his head grew more and more. He could find a house near Jackson, you'd be close to a safe place. The garden would be behind the house, near a tree where he would hang swings. He's already seen you on some rocking chair on the porch. It was nice.
“Listen, Y/N…” he started, but all he heard was your quiet and steady breathing.
You fell asleep.
A sudden movement to his right made him wake up immediately. The room was dark. The door was securely secured so he knew you were safe. He glanced quickly in your direction.
You were shaking all over. Even though you were wrapped in blankets, your whole body was shaking with shivers.
“Y/N?” Joel whispered as he moved closer to you, "Hey, I'm here."
“It's cold…” you whispered, “It's gotten so cold.”
He hadn't noticed that the room had gotten much colder in those few hours, but you weren't pretending.
"Come here." he murmured softly and turned you around so you could snuggle into him. "Will it be okay if I slide under your blanket? You'll be able to warm yourself with my body heat."
"Yeah, I guess so."
Why did Joel have to be so warm? You felt like you were hugging a hot radiator. His warmth transferred to you, his hands rubbing your shoulders and you hugged him so tightly you were surprised he hadn't started complaining yet.
You had never been this close to each other before and you both started to realize it.
There was nothing inappropriate or uncomfortable about it. It was quite the opposite, you fit his body perfectly. You felt no fear, just a little excitement. Although your body was still trembling slightly.
"Joel?" you whispered, and when he murmured softly, you added, "I'm not bothering you? Maybe you're uncomfortable?"
"It's okay. Stay."
Your leg was on his lap and when you moved slightly, you suddenly felt it. A bulge in his jeans that didn't mean Joel had anything in his pocket.
He flinched and you froze.
"Joel?"
"Mhm."
"If you were uncomfortable, you would definitely tell me about it, right?"
"Definitely."
So you decided to take a risk. Your hand slowly and carefully slipped under his shirt. Joel didn't say anything, didn't even flinch as your hand slowly moved under his shirt.
"Joel?"
"Yeah?"
"Is it because of me?"
You ran your thigh over his bulge and it twitched.
"I'm surprised you even asked." he replied, his voice extremely low. "If you do that again, I can't promise I'll behave like a gentleman."
"Maybe you don't have to?" your thigh shifted slightly again and in that moment Joel was above you, trapping you between his arms.
"I guess you don't feel so bad if you're having fun provoking me, huh?" he said, his eyes darkening. "Ever since you started feeling better, all I can think about is that you're completely naked and wearing only my shirt. You little brat."
"I've been a brat before, but somehow that didn't provoke you."
"You don't even know how many times I thought about you while lying alone in bed. Or when you were on guard duty."
His thigh slipped between your legs and you felt his bulge rub against your clit. You didn't expect that you were so horny, but your reaction was just a signal for him to attack.
Joel kissed you hard and fierce. His tongue slipped into your mouth, drawing dirty moans from you. Your fingers ran into his hair and you pulled him even closer to you. His weight on you felt so good that you felt like you had waited too long for this. A strong hand clamped down on your breast, fingers pinching your nipple lightly.
"Do you like it?" Joel murmured into your ear, "We don't have enough time for me to do with you everything that's been on my mind for so long. Take this as a teaser."
He sucked on the skin of your neck and you knew he was marking you. You were his.
He lifted your shirt to give him easier access to your breasts. With a soft purr, he kissed your breastbone, then enclosed your soft breast in his hot lips, sucking and teasing your nipple with his tongue. A moan of pleasure rose from your throat.
His thigh kept rubbing against your clit, teasing you more and more. Joel's mouth moved to the other tit and the cold air gave you goosebumps. You somehow managed to undo his belt and, despite the lack of space between your bodies, you slipped your hand into his jeans.
Now he moaned, almost like an animal, as your hand closed around his manhood. You moved it steadily, feeling the pre-cum on his shaft.
"I want you." gasped Joel, "If you want me too."
"Give me everything you can. I can take it."
Joel pulled out his cock with his free hand. He spread your legs and his hand ran over your folds. You were already so wet.
"Next time I want to taste you. Now I just want to be inside you." he said and you felt his tip slide into you.
He slowly entered you, your body adjusting to his length, and when he was all the way in, he stopped. You could see Joel's face right above you, his eyes were burning, but as soon as you stroked his cheek he smiled mischievously at you.
"Hold on to something, baby." he said and then his hips started moving hard.
You were wrong to think that his entire cock was inside you. By now he was pounding into you so deep that your hands managed to tighten on Joel's shirt at the last second.
"Fuck!" you moaned loudly.
More hits and more. Were you able to bear it? You didn't even know when Joel had freed himself from your arms, grabbed your wrists and pinned them with his hands just above your head. Now there was nothing stopping him from destroying you.
"That's right, baby. You take it so well." he breathed into your ear, "I've been dreaming of feeling you on my cock. With those sweet tits in front of my face."
You were already on the edge and Joel wanted to push you straight into the abyss. He knew no mercy. Every thrust that followed was harder, every word he said drove you crazy. When you felt his lips close over your nipple again as he sucked on it, you thought you were going to go crazy.
"Joel!" you moaned, "I..I'm..."
"C'mon, baby. I'm holding you." he gasped, "Let it go."
Your walls clamped down on his cock and your body arched as you reached your peak. Pleasure spread through every cell in your body, but you could still feel Joel moving inside you. His breathing was quick and shallow, his hips bucking hard against you. A few more moves and he pulled out, spreading himself on your stomach with a loud groan.
“Fuck…” he panted, falling next to you, “You’re going to destroy me.”
"I could say the same about you." you replied, trying to catch your breath.
Joel got up and wiped your stomach with a cloth, then wrapped the blanket around you again and pulled you closer to him.
"You made a fucking mess of my brain." you laughed softly. “If I had known earlier that you could do such things...”
"Let me catch my breath and I'll show you even more. I want to taste that delicious pussy, and your clothes won't be dry for a while, so I don't have to rush."
You felt excitement starting to bubble between your legs again. This man was your curse and salvation at the same time. He had just blown you to pieces, and you were politely waiting for him to do it again.
"I think I could live on that farm of yours." Joel said after a while, "I guess it could work."
"What about my husband? Are you not afraid of him anymore?"
"Naaah. Besides, I'll be the only one fucking you anyway. No one else will get you."
You lifted yourself up on your shoulder and kissed him lightly. Joel was right, you still had plenty of time. Not only to dry your clothes...
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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slasherscream · 9 months ago
Text
He’s Just Not That Into You
pairing:  jordan li x reader
summary: a hopeless romantic, you keep looking for love in all the wrong places, with all the wrong guys. that is, until you meet jordan li, who takes pity on you and tries to help you learn when a guy just isn’t into you.
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gif credit: artemidosgifs
“You good?”
"Huh?" Dazed and drifting, you look up from your incredibly important task of peeling off the label for the worst tasting artisanal beer ever created.
You quickly remember why you focused on the task in the first place. The lighting at this party sucks. It's mostly dim, to try and hide all the unsavory things happening in every corner of the house. The brightest bits of it are all flashing. Neon blue. Neon red. Neon green. As if anyone has ever looked good in neon green lighting. That plus the never-ending movement of people dancing is enough to make you sick.
"Are you good or are you starting to tweak?" Your eyes adjust enough to see who's talking and you sit up straighter. Jordan Li. Number #2.
She's wearing her ever present scowl that makes you study extra hard in Brink's class. You don't ever want to be in the position to have to ask for clarification on an assignment or further guidance. Brink's so busy being renowned that he's a pretty absent teacher, if you're not one of his favorites. Everything menial falls to Jordan.
"I'm good! Totally good. Just vibing, y'know."
Jordan stares down at you, looks back out onto the sea of partygoers, "What vibe do you think you're matching?"
“Excuse me?”
"You've been sitting here for almost twenty minutes. You've barely moved. Did you take something?"
"No! I.... I didn't take anything. I'm just enjoying the atmosphere."
Jordan rolls her eyes, takes the beer bottle from your hand, and then takes your hand itself. She pulls you to your feet, easy, despite the way you go limp at the last second to try and stay seated. Without a word she begins to pull you through the crowd. Bewildered, you follow.
She doesn't stop till you're outside on the porch. Surprisingly, no one else is lingering. But the air has a chill that's pretty biting for an early day in fall. You take a deep breath. You hadn't realized how loud the music really was. How overwhelming every smell. The itch that crawled across your skin with each jostle of a body coming too near.
"Yeah, you look like you were really enjoying the atmosphere." Jordan drawls, leaned up against the railing, observing you.
Your first instinct was to say 'fuck you' to that, obviously. But at the last second you remember she is your TA and is probably doing all the actual grading for every assignment you turn in.
You force a smile, "Thank you. Guess I was feeling pretty anxious."
"What are you even doing here?"
"Should... I mean, I was... invited? If that's what you're asking. Although I think crashing parties is pretty typical college stuff, even if I wasn't-" 
“Not what I meant.” Jordan interrupts, “I mean you don’t usually go to parties. I never see you at any of them.”
“Maybe we just run in different circles.”
“Not really. You’re in the top ten now. What did you jump to, number 6?”
“Seven, actually.”
“Really? Well, won’t be long. Number 6 is a dick. He’ll be easy to knock out with the type of stats you’re pulling this year.” 
Somehow, this compliment bewilders you more than anything. Jordan must see it on your face, because she rolls her eyes again. 
“I keep an eye on the competition. Even if you are just a sophomore.”
“Okay, Junior.” You narrow your eyes at her. She narrows hers back, which feels like overkill, because she was already glaring. 
“So, what are you doing here?” 
“Did they hire you to be the bouncer for this party?” 
“Jesus, ‘m just making conversation. You looked like you were gonna hurl in there. What? Did your friends drag you here then ditch you?” 
“My friends would never do that. That violates the party safety rule. Arrive together, leave together.”
“Oh of course.” She says, nodding in a way that feels sarcastic. 
“I actually came without my friends.” You say, standing up straighter. Proud of yourself for stepping out of your shell even if it ended on a sour note. 
“You did?” Jordan raises an eyebrow. You deflate a little at the shocked tone. Even your TA thinks you’re lame. 
“Well…. I was supposed to meet someone here. But they… I dunno, I must’ve missed them. Or whatever.”
“Who were you supposed to meet?” 
You hesitate for a second, but they impatiently gesture for you to go on. So, begrudgingly you admit to, “Uuuuh… Andre?” 
“Andre?” In the blink of an eye they shift, and take a step closer. As if he wants you to see the disbelief on his face as clearly as possible. “How do you know Andre?” 
“What happened to we run in the same circle?” You snap back. “Andre’s top ten.” 
“Andre’s a fucking nepo baby.” Jordan scoffs
“Aren’t you friends?” You frown.
“Andre barely shows up to class, he knows why he’s top ten, trust me.” Jordan says. “Andre invited you?”
“Yes, Andre invited me. We were at the club last week and you know…talked.”
“You were at the club? You’re changing it up like crazy this year, huh L/N?”
“Lot of good it’s doing me.” You sigh. You twist the sleeve of your top, wrinkling the fabric. You’d spent hours picking out the perfect outfit that looked like you weren’t trying too hard, but brought out all your best features.
Jordan’s face twists, you’d almost mistake it for sympathy, “Did you see Andre at all tonight?”  
“Did he come here with you?” 
“Would you like me to lie or tell you the truth?” 
You sigh, moving to sit down on the porch steps, emotionally and socially exhausted. “It’s okay, I already know the answer.”
A moment of silence before Jordan moves to sit beside you. He offers back up the beer he took from you earlier, “You look like you could use a drink.” 
“Eh, you have it. If you’re not a germaphobe. Thanks for rescuing me.”
Jordan shrugs, takes a sip and almost spits it right back out, “God it tastes like fucking piss.” 
“You weren’t very nice to me during the rescue, so you didn’t deserve a warning.” 
“Well fuck me, I guess.” He laughs, staring at you. He let’s out a sigh of his own, “So which line did he use?” 
“Huh?”
“What did Andre say to you?” 
“He didn’t use a line.” You protest. 
“Andre doesn’t know how to do anything but use a line. Wait! Lemme guess,” Jordan looks you up and down before glancing at a few rings on your hand. “Were you wearing those?” 
You stare back at him. 
“Well?”
“Yes, I was, why?” 
“Did he come up to you with one of them and ask if you dropped it?” 
“.....Maybe. I repeat, why?” You ask, stomach twisting.
“Cause he slipped it off your finger with his powers so he’d have an opening. It’s his go to for girls that look shy. Seen it a million times.” 
“Oh, well, that’s lovely, actually. Fuck me!” You groan, laying back against the steps and throwing your hands over your face. “You’re really good at comforting people, did you know that?” 
“I’ve been told to work on it.” 
“Clearly not enough.” 
“Just didn’t want you to fall for the bullshit any more than you already have.” 
You scrub your face harshly, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat. “Sorry. Do you like apples? I can put a nice shiny one on your desk Monday morning as a thank you for the solid.” 
“Are you about to cry?” Jordan asks, bewildered.
“No.” 
“Over Andre Anderson?”
“No!” You sit up, glaring at him. He glares back. “Not exactly. It’s just… I don’t put myself out there a lot. So it sucks. That I tried… and all I got was a guy who fed me a line he’s used a million different times on a million different girls, who then ditched me at a party he invited me to. I should’ve just fucking stayed home.” 
You sniffle and then remember who you’re actually talking to and how awkward it’s going to be to see their face Monday morning for class if you keep spilling your guts. You stand up abruptly, already planning on apologizing for whatever you said while you were “drunk” tonight. You’re opening your mouth to make your excuses, already taking steps away from the stairs when Jordan reaches out, grabbing you gently by the wrist. 
“Wait! I’m… sorry, I mean-”
“Why are you sorry?” You sniff, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I could’ve… I could’ve been nicer. About telling you. About Andre.” Jordan pulls you to sitting back down beside him, slowly, so you can pull away if you really wanted to. 
“It’s okay. I should’ve known better.” You say quietly. 
“Hey, no. I made it sound like he’s super obvious about it but he’s honestly pretty smooth. His only hobbies are picking up girls and cocaine. He could make… fucking, I dunno, Ellen Ripley blush if he had the prep time! It’s really not your fault.” The comment surprises a wet laugh out of you and Jordan smiles, bumping your shoulders together. 
“Thanks, but he probably was obvious. I just… don’t see stuff like that coming very well.” You laugh bitterly.
“What do you mean?” 
“I apparently just can’t tell for shit when a guy is actually into me! Or just… entertaining himself.” You sigh. 
You and Jordan sit in silence for a second. You have no clue what’s going on in his head. You see him tapping his finger on the beer bottle, the sound of his rings the only noise for a moment. 
“I could help you.”
“Help me what?”
“I could teach you how to spot when a guy is just being an asshole or when he’s serious about you. So this doesn’t happen again.” Jordan shrugs, taking another swallow of the beer, flinching again at the taste. 
“Piss kink or short term memory loss?” 
“Offer retracted.” Jordan laughs.
“Why are you offering in the first place?” 
Jordan shrugs, looking out in the distance, “You’re… cool, y’know. Think of it as a welcome to the top ten gift. You’re only gonna get more and more attention now that you’re there. You’ll need to be able to sniff out bullshit or you’ll get eaten alive. No offense.”
“I’ve been in the top ten for the last six months.” You scowl. 
“Mazel tov.” 
“Dick.” You scoff, fighting back another laugh. You and Jordan make eye contact and both lose the battle, laughing together. 
You take a deep breath once the fit passes, “This isn’t a top ten humiliation ritual of initiation thing, right?”
“I’m way too busy to waste my time doing stupid shit like that.” Jordan says, familiar glare falling back onto his face.
“Sorry, rough night, had to ask.” You say sheepishly. “Offer still open?” You smile, extending your hand out for a handshake.
“Yeah, offers still open, L/N.” Jordan rolls his eyes, but he does shake your hand.
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“So, number’s one pretty obvious but we have to establish the basics because you told me you were hopeless.” Jordan sips her chocolate milkshake. 
“Didn’t use the word hopeless, but sure.” You mutter, tossing a fry into your mouth and frowning at the lack of flavor. “Hit me.”
“If he calls off plans with you all the time he’s not interested. If he doesn’t give you as much heads up as humanly possible before he has to cancel a plan or bail then he might actually hate you.” 
“You’re exaggerating.” You scoff, shaking extra salt onto your fries.
Jordan reaches over, stealing one of your now delicious fries to dip it into her milkshake. “It’s a type of power play. Too many reasons to name why a guy might feel the need to pull something like that but we don’t wanna get too complicated. All you need to do is memorize the red flags and run when you see them.” 
“Okay…. follow up question, what would you consider to be ‘all the time’?”
“If you just started seeing each other and he cancels two dates in a row without desperately trying to make it up to you he doesn’t give a shit.” Jordan steals and dips another of your fries. 
“What about emergencies? Like… I dunno, a funeral? What if his Aunt died? So he cancels that one date. Then the next one he tries to plan his car breaks down or something, you know?” 
“He should call an uber and get to the fucking location of the date come hell or high water. That’s what a guy who likes you is gonna do. Don’t over complicate, L/N.”
“Oh and you don’t think you’re over-complicating the process of eating my fries?” You smack at her hand as it reaches for your plate for the umpteenth time during this lunch. “You could have ordered fries. Why didn’t you order fries?”
“Didn’t want any until I saw yours.” She tries again but you see the movement coming and block her hand, again. You did not notice the second, slightly sneakier hand that does successfully carry out the theft. 
“Did you just juke me over a fry? 
“Yeah, and I won.” 
You toss a fry at her and laugh when she manages to catch it with her mouth. Asshole.
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You sit on the corner of Jordan’s desk, watching as he finishes up some last minute work that Brink asked him to do before heading out. You’d offered to meet back up later but he just shook his head and said it wouldn’t take long.
“What if he’s just a private person?” You ask, kicking your feet lightly. 
Jordan looks up from his laptop and frowns at you, “Why are you trying to invent exceptions to the rules? The rules are there to help you. Can you say that for me, L/N? Can you say the rules are there to help me?” 
“The rules are there to help me.” You repeat back, mocking their tone. 
“Thank you.” Jordan smirks at you, “Like I said, if he’s hiding your relationship from the world then he’s not serious about you. He should be introducing you to people. You should be on his social media. People should not be shocked you exist when meeting you. All that bullshit.” 
“And if they’re a private person?” You challenge.
Jordan pushes away his laptop, turning to face you. “Fuck me. The types of guys you’re gonna be around as a hero are all gonna be doing the same stuff as you. There’s gonna be a certain level of our life that’s always in the spotlight. Minimum of two posts a week if he’s constantly posting in general.” 
“I don’t post very much.” You counter.
“You should be posting more. Especially as a top ten. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be number 6 right now. You need to be more active on socials.” Jordan gives you a look before going back to typing. Two weeks ago that look would have put you on the verge of tears. Now you roll your eyes.
“I’ll think about it.” 
“It was an order as your TA, actually.” 
“Oh god, an order? I’m shaking in my boots.” You tease, playfully kicking his chair. 
“That just knocked your essay from a B- to a C, congratulations.” Jordan quips. 
“You were gonna mark my essay a B-, you dick? You know damn well I don’t turn in B- work. Who do you think-”
The rest of the afternoon is lost to playful outrage. The papers get graded late. Yours comes back an A+. No one besides you has gotten a grade of + anything since Jordan became TA. 
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“Okay, so this is one with a grey area.” Jordan says.
“Oh no.”
“Shut up. If he never gets jealous that’s a red flag.” 
“But-” You sit up from where you’re laid out on the blanket you threw on the ground to better soak in the last warm rays of September sun. 
“I am not saying go out with some overly possessive fucking maniac.” Jordan cuts you off. 
“Be specific, Jordan. You can’t give me rules with built in exceptions. I’ll fail. Is that what you want? You want me to fail, Jordan? That’s messed up-”
“Shut up-” Jordan laughs, shaking her head. “Listen to me, if a guy never gets jealous he just doesn’t care at all. The most namaste, enlightened dude on the planet will get jealous in the right situation. I’m not saying tolerate anything crazy. It’s just good if he like… responds, when you say you’re going to study alone with another dude at 9pm, in the guy’s dorm... while his roommate is gone.”
“Is studying alone with another dude, in his dorm while his roommate is gone, okay as long as it ends before 9pm?”
Jordan rips out grass from the ground and tries to sprinkle it onto your face. You put up a force-field and laugh when she sticks her tongue out. 
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“He’s gotta give you his full attention. When he’s with you, he’s with you. Everyone gets distracted. But if his head is always somewhere else, every time you see him, he just doesn’t like you.” Jordan swipes at your head, fast enough to be a challenge to dodge but not hard enough to hurt you had the hit connected. 
You go in for a kick yourself and he practically twirls out of the way. You try twice more, managing to evade his own hits just barely. 
Breathlessly, you gesture for a time out and Jordan sighs, “We gotta get you better at hand to hand.”
“That’s what my shields are for.” 
“The way you use your shields is really good. You’ve gotten a lot more creative this year. It’s why you’ve been jumping ranks so fast. You’re powerful.” 
The earnest tone he uses makes you lift up from the hunched over position of misery on your knees, “You think so?”
“Well…. yeah.” He clears his throat. “But you can’t get lazy. What if someone wears you out and you don’t have any energy left for them? No more shields. You need to be able to fight.”
“If I don’t have any energy left for my shields and my only option left is hand to hand combat, respectfully, it’s my time.” 
Jordan rolls his eyes, “Break’s over. Back in position, stay on your toes more so it’s easier to move, okay?” 
You’re about to get back into form when you hear calls of Jordan’s name from across the arena. You turn and see Luke and Cate coming over, wide grins on their faces. You give them a small wave and they both wave back, incredibly eager. 
You’ve always been friendly with one another but the strength of enthusiasm is… strange. Enough to make you blink in surprise.  
“Thought you said you were super booked up this week doing stuff for Brink? Absolutely no free time.” Cate asks, staring Jordan down. 
“This isn’t free time. I can’t slack on hand to hand combat training. It’s important.” Jordan stares Cate down even harder. 
“Why didn’t you ask me?” Luke asks casually. 
“Jordan saw my form in a video I just posted and apparently it was ‘despicable’ and ‘the most insane way he’d ever seen anyone do that before’. He rushed over to show me what the ‘right way to do it is’. Control freak.” You fake a cough as you say the last part.  
“You were gonna hurt your back!”
“Super healing.”
“Super herniated disc.” Jordan quips back and you scoff, shoving him. 
He shoves you back with an eye roll, fighting back a smile.
“How ungentlemanly of you.” You gasp. A shift, and she shoves you again making you laugh, “and unladylike!”
“You shoved me first!” 
“Children, please try and be civil we’re in public.” Luke cuts in and you almost jump at the sound of his voice. 
It’s easy to get lost in your own world when you’re with Jordan. You turn to be politely facing your classmates and not just Jordan, wearing a sheepish smile. 
“Stop teasing them. They’re cute.” Cate smiles.
“Anyways, you guys need something?” Jordan asks.
“We can’t just hang out? Are you trying to get rid of your best friends?” Luke asks.
“Yes.”
“Jordan!” You bump her with your elbow. 
“Okay, okay. We’ll leave you alone. Wanna grab lunch with us after though?” Cate asks, looping her arm through Luke’s.
“You feeling up to lunch, L/N?” Jordan looks over at you.
With three unexpected pairs of eyes on you, you fluster. “If you go easy on me for the rest of training, yes.”
“Not a chance.” Jordan snorts. “We’ll be there though. Now scram. L/N needs a lot of help.”
“No, I fucking do not!” You protest.
The two of you don’t notice Luke and Cate walking away trading looks.
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“When you don’t know really know anything about him, it’s not a good sign.” Jordan tilts the bowl of popcorn towards you. 
“And what do you mean, specifically, by knowing anything about him?” You ask, taking some pieces and throwing them back.
“Has has ever shared his feelings? Talked about his personal life? If you don’t know anything besides the superficial stuff he doesn’t care about you.” Jordan states. “You also need to look out for him not knowing anything about you. Does he give you space to open up? Does he remember the shit you do tell him?”
“Got it, so just look out for the superficial surface level conversations if you never have any deeper moments.” You say.
“Exactly.” Jordan says before her eyes snap back to the screen suddenly. “Did they say they’re gonna try and make that house feel more ‘open concept’? What the fuck is their problem?” 
“Huh?” You look back to Jordan’s TV, which is playing Property Brothers. “You got a problem against open concept?” 
“I have a problem with every house being made to look the same, inside and out. It’s bad enough new houses don’t have unique floor plans. Now we’re taking houses that were unique and fucking them up till they’re boring! What ever happened to individuality? I bet they’ll paint the walls grey too. Fuck me.” She huffs, leaning back against the couch. 
“Are you really into this show or just really into design patterns?” You ask, charmed at her passion for something completely random. 
“A bit of both.” Jordan says. “I wanted to be an architect. Before I got my powers.” 
“Shut up! No, you did not.” 
“I did.” She laughs, “I used to draw up plans and torment my parents with them every hour of the day.”
You spend the rest of the afternoon talking about your hidden passions. 
You even get the honor of seeing a few of the sketches Jordan made years ago. They were crinkled at the edges, pencil markings dull with age in some places. You smiled down at the folder Jordan keeps the drawings in. When you look up, finally, to compliment them you notice a strange look on Jordan’s face. 
Thinking you’d made her self conscious with your long silence you wrapped an arm around her and told her she would have made a hell of an architect. And probably killed someone with the utter lack of load bearing beams in her structures. 
You expected her to shove you off playfully but she only leaned into you and smiled, flipping to the next page of the folder.
When you get back to your own dorm room, moon high in the sky, you have to stifle a laugh. The latest post on Jordan’s Instagram is a picture of you standing with your hands on your hips in the middle of their room, looking baffled. 
The caption: I handed her the remote and walked away for five minutes. We’ve been looking for almost an hour #jesus christ #banned from room 4ever. 
You step out into the hallway and call Jordan up, demanding they take down their character assassination attempt because you two only looked for 26 minutes, actually. 
They refuse. 
You’re so incensed by the exaggeration that you wind up back outside Jordan’s dorm room not ten minutes later. When she opens the door, and sees you standing there, she bursts into laughter. She drags you inside, and when you ask her when the ban got lifted she just throws you on the bed. You spend the rest of the night arguing semantics. 
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You and Jordan were sitting in the ground floor of the school’s library where you were allowed to talk quietly. You were teaching them how to fold paper to make little stars while they were teaching you how to make the perfect paper airplane. 
“Are you filled with barely suppressed rage? Why is it so damn wrinkled?” You laugh at their mangled star.
Jordan grabs another piece of paper with a huff, pushing her bob back behind her ears. “You are shit at giving instructions. This is impossible. Do the steps slower again.” 
“I’m sorry, I’m actually not capable of slowing myself down times 3 like a Youtube video.” You tease.
“Fuck you.” Jordan kicks you under the table with her foot. “Again. Show me.”
“You start with this corner here, then you twist it over here, next you wanna-”
“Hey! Hey! What’s up people!” You and Jordan turn in perfect sync to hiss at the person to be quiet only to find that person to be Andre Anderson. 
You turn back towards the table, Jordan moves an arm to curl around the back of your chair. 
“Hey.” Jordan says flatly. You make some noise that you hope passes for a greeting.
“Sorry, too loud. So this is where the party is, huh? What’re you two doing?” Andre grabs a chair on the opposite side of the table and you frown, focusing intensely on the paper before you. 
“Don’t you have a class right now?” Jordan asks sharply.
“Blowing it off.” Andre grins back.
Jordan scoffs. You only notice your shoulders are practically up to your ears when Jordan puts her hand there and rubs. You relax, letting out a quiet breath you were holding. Jordan gives you a squeeze. 
“Awww, you making little stars? Cute. Wanna show me how, F/N?” Andre has the nerve to sound flirtatious. 
After ditching you without a word and radio silence to back it up. To really make sure there’s insult to match the injury. You clench your jaw. Keep moving your hands. Try to zone out. 
The hand on your shoulder gets bigger and so does the thigh that brushes against yours under the table. “Could you fuck off for a bit? We’re trying to relax after our exams this morning.”
“Ouch. Didn’t know you couldn’t relax with me around, man.” Andre bites back. “F/N, you want me to stay, don’t you?” 
You get up from the table abruptly. The sudden sting in your eyes doesn’t even allow you you to collect your things. Your chest feels tight. You have to just get out of here. You hope in a school of future superheroes no one will steal your stuff. You think you hear calls of your name from behind you. Some yelling. Your ears are ringing too much. You break into a sprint. 
You can’t even make it to your dorm. You have to settle for tucking yourself into the first patch of trees behind a building you can find. You try to fight back the tears. One breathe. Two. Three. Try to focus on the birds chirping somewhere above you. But the memories are all flooding in at once and you start to cry. Heaving, chest burning sobs.
“F/N. F/N. F/N, hey look at me.” You zone back into the world to Jordan pushing your hair away from your face and you sob.
“Fuck me, I’ll kill him. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d get so upset. You seemed like you didn’t care after that night… I-  I’ll fucking knock his teeth in.” Jordan hisses. You’d thought you’d seen them angry before. But their face has never looked like this.  
“What’s… are you having a panic attack?” Jordan asks, still petting your hair gently. You manage to nod. “Is touching you okay? Is it making it worse?” You push yourself into his hands and without another word he pulls you into his lap, tucking you against him. 
You notice absently he’s wearing his favorite jacket and try to shift, so that you’re not getting tears and snot onto the fabric. He pushes your head back against his shoulder, shushing you gently. You let yourself relax, letting out the rest of the tears. Letting the anxiety leave your body. You start your grounding techniques as your breathing evens. You can see the sharp cut of Jordan’s jaw. Hear his heartbeat. The birds chirping. Feel his hands as they rub soothing circles into your skin. Smell the cologne he wears. You tuck yourself closer, even though no more tears are coming. 
“Andre is a fucking loser.” Jordan says, quietly but vehemently, “You shouldn’t waste a second fucking thinking about him. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s not you. It’s just who he is.” 
“It’s not just Andre… It’s… it’s not even mostly Andre.” You say quietly. “I mean he’s a dick but… it just brings up memories.” 
“Memories?” Jordan echoes softly, and you know you don’t have to tell him anything but you want to. 
“When I was younger… I was even more of a wall flower than I am now. Shocker, I know.” You try to joke, Jordan only hums to let you know he’s listening, pulling you closer. “Even though I had powers I wasn’t popular or anything. I had trouble controlling them. Not enough to be dangerous… just enough to be… well, a loser, honestly. Because of my anxiety, and how loud my head gets my force-fields would just pop out whenever. I couldn’t stop it. If I was scared. If I got nervous. If I was feeling stupid, or ugly. All the time. People called me bubble girl.”
“I learned to just keep to myself but I was such an easy, fun target. Sneak up on the mouse and watch them jump and make a bubble! Fun!” You laugh bitterly. You think you feel Jordan kiss the top of your head, but you’re still out of it. “It made even getting out of bed to go to school hard. Administration wouldn’t take it serious as bullying because I was a supe: if I wanted it to stop I should defend myself.” 
“My parents felt the same way. Wouldn’t let me transfer. But I didn’t want to fight back. I didn’t want to turn myself into something I’m not just to be left alone! I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought eventually everyone would get bored, mature a little. But it just got worse and worse every fucking year. Senior year was… bad, though. I was getting better at controlling my powers so what kids would do to make me react was worse. But I just ignored it. I started just… pulling into myself. Whenever anyone would pour paint on my favorite outfit. Or cut my hair. Or hit me, I’d make the bubble in my head instead, and go there. Eventually, towards the end I thought people finally got bored, they stopped fucking with me as much. I thought I’d be able to graduate in peace.” 
“There was this one boy… he was popular. But he’d always been nice to me. He smiled at me in the hallways. Would help me up if people shoved me when he was around. He even gave me his sweater once, when someone cut up my shirt during gym. His friends were dicks but I thought he was different, I thought he was nice.”
“He suddenly started being even more nice to me. It felt… when he asked me to prom I just wanted to be normal for one second. I should have known. I probably did know. I just wanted to pretend, for five seconds, I wanted to pretend.” You trail off, lost in the memory.
“What happened?” Jordan asks, voice sounding hoarse. You try to pull back to see what’s wrong but he keeps you still. You realize he started rocking the both of you as you spoke. You didn’t realize how soothing it was. 
“It was a joke, obviously. We went to go shopping together, so we’d match, he told me. When we got to the shop he insisted we go to all his friends were waiting for us. Recording, of course. They all laughed at me. I still remember what one girl said, ‘you’re more crazy than we thought if you honestly ever believed someone like him would go out with a loser like you’.”
“F/N, those people were fucking assholes. They… god what the fuck is wrong with people. That’s not true.” Jordan makes you look at him, suddenly. You’re shocked that his eyes are red. “You’re not a fucking loser.”
“It’s okay, Jordan. I know they were just assholes. I always knew. It just hurts still. I’ve… I’ve avoided dating ever since, obviously. My first kiss wasn’t even romantic. It was just with a good friend that I knew wouldn’t make fun of me. So I could get it out of the way.”
“I’m sorry.” Jordan looks helpless, like he wants to do something but doesn’t know what. 
“You didn’t do anything, Jordan. No need to say sorry.”
“And then Andre went and fucking… fucking motherfucker I’ll kill him!” Jordan snaps, goes to stand up and then remembers he’s holding you halfway. He sits back down, grip a little tighter, but still gentle. 
“It’s okay. It wasn’t even a joke, what Andre did. He’s just… inconsiderate. And I happen to have a nasty experience that makes me blow everything out of proportion. I’ll have to get used to that kind of thing if I want to actually start dating.” 
Suddenly both of Jordan’s hands are on your face, holding you still so you have to look at him. “You’re not blowing anything out of proportion. And… and you don’t have to get used to shit, F/N. You’re fucking incredible. You don’t need to tolerate anything, from fucking anyone. You’re a fucking… you’re a fucking dream girl! You’re smart, and funny, and sweet, and strong, and beautiful. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. You don’t have to settle for fucking anything. Okay?”
You stare up at him, shocked, he gives your head a gentle shake, “Okay?” You nod slowly.
He pulls you into another hug, the tightest one you’ve ever gotten. You don’t pull away until the sun dips so low you’re both draped in gold. 
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“Fucking rank number fucking 5!” Jordan screams, arm wrapped around you tightly. A chorus of cheers from the rest of the group and people nearby. 
You cover your face, laughing helplessly. Jordan didn’t surprise you with this party, they knew that would only make you anxious, walking into a room full of people you weren’t expecting to see with (even if asked not to) cameras pointed at you. 
Jordan had texted you: I am throwing you a surprise party on Friday night to celebrate your new ranking. Please practice your surprised face. 
You had practiced. You’d done a very convincing gasp when you walked in. 
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Jordan says, for the umpteenth time, looking at you. You feel your cheeks go hot.  
“Oh shut up. I’ll get a big head soon.” 
“You deserve it more than anyone. You’re fucking awesome.” Jordan had started heaping more praise onto you than you knew what to do with, most days. 
She claimed it was practically training. That you needed to get used to people complimenting you, with the level of fame you’re going to reach. That alone had made your stomach erupt into butterflies. Jordan believed in you. Really believed in you. 
“You’re the one who’s awesome… you’re a good mentor, Jordan.” You reach up to hold the hand that’s been wrapped around your shoulder all evening. 
“Are you saying that following my advice works?” Jordan pretends to gasp. You playfully dig your nails into her side and she jumps before grabbing the offending hand and holding onto it. She doesn’t let go. 
Her advice had worked. You posted on your social media more, at her insistence. You started to become a beast at hand to hand, thanks to Jordan’s brutal training regimen. You were socializing more, because as long as Jordan was there you felt safe. But you were even feeling confident enough to do things on your own that high school you would be shocked didn’t instantly send you to the grave. 
You’d done an interview, for God’s sake! All on your own. Although your eyes kept darting to Jordan right off camera, who smiled reassuringly the whole time.  
“I will not. Because then you’ll get a big head.” You tease, giving both her hands a squeeze. 
“Let’s get a drink.” Jordan says, tugging you towards the kitchen. 
It’s quieter in the kitchen. The drink table in the living room is still overflowing so no one’s had to start looking for leftovers yet. 
“How you feeling?” Jordan asks, helping you sit on the counter before going to the fridge. After a second he pulls out your favorite. He hid them in the far back, you can tell by how far he had to lean. 
“Good.” You smile as he pops your drink open before handing it to you. He leans against one of your knees. 
“Party isn’t too much, right?” He asks, for the third time tonight. 
Laughing you push a strand of unruly hair back from his face. He freezes at the touch, before a smile creeps onto his lips. 
“Party is perfect, Jordie. Thank you. For everything. For being so…” 
“Don’t thank me for treating you the way you should always be treated.” 
“You treat me like a princess! What if I get spoiled? You’ll have to deal with a monster.” You tease. “You won’t even be able to be mad at me, because you’ll be the reason.” 
“You’ll terrorize the world.” 
“Cause complete chaos.” 
“Devastation, even.” As Jordan speaks you realize you’d gotten closer. A lot closer. Your chest seizes up with anxiety as you wonder how long you’d been leaning in like this. You almost pull back, ready to apologize. But you’re frozen stiff now and realize the two of you are still getting closer. With a jolt you realize you both leaned in. 
Jordan has a hand on your thigh, you reach down, nervous, to hold his hand as reflex. It’s an every day comfort, lately. You give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back. You don’t pull away as Jordan keeps leaning in. 
“Jordan! Come stop Luke from doing a keg stand, please!” Cate’s voice, typically pleasant sounds incredibly annoying at the moment. 
“Gimme a sec!” Jordan calls back, still looking you in the eye. You squeeze his hand tighter. He looks nervous. They’ve looked so nervous all night. Nervous you were having a good time. Nervous you were happy. Nervous… nervous to kiss you? Is he about to fucking kiss you?
“He has an interview tomorrow! Hustle please!” Cate calls back in a sing song tone. 
“Fuck me!” Jordan throws his head back, shifting, frustrated. “I’ll be right back, okay?” 
You nod, a little breathless from anxiety and excitement, and dread, and the full spectrum of human emotion. “Okay.” 
Jordan stomps out of the kitchen, probably going to rip Luke a new asshole from the sound of her boots on the floor. She sounds like her own stampede. You giggle, pressing your hands, still warm from holding Jordan’s into your face. You may be bad at signals but… 
You sit under the hideous fluorescent kitchen lighting feeling like something inside you is glowing. You kick your feet, nervous, waiting for Jordan to get back. Wondering what they’ll do. What they’ll say. If you’re delusional. You have to be delusional. You have to be. 
“Guard dog taking a walk?” In the doorway stands Andre, looking a little rougher than usual. His right eye is dark, like a black eye that’s started healing. There’s a small bandage over his nose. 
“What happened to you?” You gasp.
“Your guard dog.” Andre says, reaching into the fridge to pull out a bottle of spicy vodka. “Jordan’s number #2 for a reason. Congrats on making #5 by the way.” 
“Thanks.” You say. “When did Jordan do that?”
“A week ago. Would have probably gotten it earlier but apparently Cate talked them into waiting to see me until they were less pissed off. For which I’m eternally grateful.” He says, taking a sip straight from the bottle without chaser. 
You don’t really know what to say so you sit in silence. Legs still kicking, more from anxiety now, less from giddiness. 
“He gave me a busted lip too, but that healed pretty quickly. I also think he might have kicked a rib loose, been a little sore on the left side.” Andre says, he doesn’t seem to be angry but you don’t know why else he’d talk to you. 
“I didn’t ask Jordan to do that. If you’re wondering.” You say, slowly. 
“No! No! You’re way too sweet for that. This was just my shitty way of getting around to an apology. I’m sorry. I should’ve said sorry before Jordan kicked my ass but I promise Jordan kicking my ass isn’t why I’m saying sorry. The original plan was to ask you out again, make it up to you with dinner. Jordan just kicked my ass first.” 
“I hope to god you’re not working your way around to asking me on a pity date.” You narrow your eyes at him. 
“So Jordan could put me in a full body cast?” Andre laughs loudly, shocking you. “No offense, you’re really cute, but nothing’s worth that fucking beat down.” 
“Well, I guess I accept your-”
“You don’t have to forgive me. Jordan was pretty clear that I tore up some old wounds. I didn’t mean to, but I’m sorry. I can just be… a dick, sometimes. Often. All the time.” Andre jokes. 
“What did Jordan say exactly?” You ask nervously. 
“Nothing specific! I could barely pick out anything at all, really. The sound of her fist breaking my nose was pretty loud.” 
You laugh then try to cover it up by taking a sip. Andre grins and you relax, knowing it was his way of breaking the tension. 
“Can I ask you something?” Andre asks suddenly.
“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” You shrug.
“Fair enough.” Andre says, toying with the bottle. “Do you like Jordan?” 
“What?”
“Because Jordan sure likes you.” Andre states. 
“No, they don't.” It’s a reflex to deny the possibility of someone having feelings for you but the words feel wrong once you say them. Weren’t you just about to kiss? Wasn’t his hand just burning into your thigh like a brand? “Do they?” 
“Jordan would never do a fraction of the shit they’ve been doing for you if they didn’t care about you.” Andre takes another sip, then moves to saunter from the kitchen. He stops, a glance over the shoulder. “However you feel, tell Jordan. And soon. They’re looking a little desperate.” 
Then it’s just you and the sound of the party, and the cool marble you’re sitting on. And a lot to think about. 
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“Your incessant leg jiggling is distracting me from how and why they intend to turn this beautiful victorian home into another soulless open concept millennial nightmare.” Jordan says, glancing from the TV to your leg which, yes, has been jiggling for awhile.
“I’ve got a question.”
“Obviously.” 
“How can you tell if a girl isn’t into you?” 
Jordan turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed, “what?”
You feel heat flood your cheeks, but keep your eyes firmly glued to the screen. “Are the rules the same? Or different?”
“You like girls?” Jordan blurts out.
“What?” The question is enough to make you look at her. And now you're trapped by societal standards of politeness to maintain the most anxiety inducing eye contact you've ever shared.
“You've never talked about… you've never said anything about liking girls.”
“You only offered up the help for the one gender. Didn't wanna get greedy.” You force a laugh.
“How long have you…. have you always liked girls?” Jordan asks and you hope to God you're not hallucinating that quick glance at your lips. 
“You follow me on Instagram!”
“What's that have to do with anything?”
“I literally have the pride flag in my bio?”
“I thought you were-”
“-Jordan Li, if you're about to tell me you thought I was an ally I'll beat you to death, and then jump off a cliff.” 
Jordan laughs, ducking her head, hair falling into her face slightly. You dig your fingers into your thigh to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear. 
“Is there a reason why you're asking… about how to tell when a girl isn't into you, all of a sudden?” Jordan looks up at you and the world narrows down to her brown eyes, and her nose, and her mouth. And the look in her eyes you hope you're not reading wrong.
You blink in confusion when amusement crosses over her face and for one awful second you think Jordan is laughing at you and you could throw up. But you realize you're suddenly looking at her from behind a force-field of light purple and feel queasy out of a different sense of embarrassment.
You can hear a smile in Jordan’s voice, but you refuse to unbury your face from your hands, “Never seen you not be able to control your powers before.” 
“Please kill me.”
“Can't. Your forcefield is still up, princess.” She teases, tapping at the bubble. 
With a groan of humiliation you drop your field and peek up at her through your fingers. 
“First the forcefield, now the hands. Still haven't answered my question though.” You almost snip at her that she should take a wild guess at your answer but there's something about Jordan’s expression. It's teetering between playful, guarded, and… something else. And you have to bank on whatever that something else is.
You take a deep breath in and move in closer, “You're not so awful a teacher that the lessons for a guy didn't stick, but considering you're a girl too who knows what incredibly important lesson you didn't know you had to teach me. The lesson… the girl lesson, that would have stopped me from misinterpreting what's been happening here. If I’m misinterpreting. All I know is… all I can really be sure of, is how I feel. And I, well-” You bite your lip, taking a shaky breath, and Jordan moves in closer, “I'm about halfway to being in love with you.”
The words are barely out of your mouth before her lips are on yours. Her hand curls at the base of your neck, pulling you in closer. A brush of her tongue against your bottom lip before you let her in with a breathless sigh. She moans against your lips, other hand moving to your waist to tug you into her lap. 
You lose your balance a little, fall into her in a way that is not at all seductive. You laugh, embarrassed and she chases the sound, using both hands to put you in her lap, holds you there firm and secure.
“You-” She kisses you, interrupting your sentence. “Haven’t-” Another kiss. “Told me-” She holds you tight this time, tilting her head to the side, sweeping her tongue against yours and gasping at your taste. You pull back with shaky hands, keeping her at a distance with a grip on her shoulders.
“Could we use our big girl words?” You ask, breathless and a little dizzy. 
“I’ve fucking only been in love with you for two years, thanks for fucking noticing.” She huffs, exasperated and smiling. 
“How on Earth was I supposed to interpret your seething stare of hate for being in love with me?” You’re already melting against her as she pulls you back in with the guiding grip on your hair. 
“Shoulda looked harder, baby.” She coos, and doesn’t let you up again anytime soon. 
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A/N: my magnum opus of pining! if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo
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cherrygirlfriend · 3 months ago
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kook!reader camping with bf!pope heyward
warnings: fluffy smut, loss of virginity, awkwardness but in a sweet way, praise, MDNI i really wanted to write something sweet but also smutty and i got this idea a few days ago ,,, also as someone who was a girl scout for six years pope being a former boy scout is canon in my heart. anyway i'm definitely gonna write more kook!reader x pope bc i love their dynamic sm … currently planning a moodboard for them
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when pope's great idea for your birthday was to take you camping, to say you were reluctant would be an understatement, especially since your initial plan was to lose your virginity on said day, and the thought of sleeping in the middle of some forests surrounded by mosquitos and god knows what kind of wild animals wasn't exactly your idea of a "romantic evening."
you couldn't help it, you had always been a planner, and when pope had brought up the idea of camping with you for your birthday, you had subtly tried to tell him it wasn't something you were too interested, but the boy seemed so sweetly clueless about it, you didn't want to burst his bubble of excitement, especially when he showed you the camping gear he'd dug up from his storage from his days as a boy scout.
so, you just decided to try and make it as romantic as possible. your parents had conveniently misplaced one of their expensive bottles of wine, which had somehow ended up in your trunk, and you had purchased a new lingerie set as well as condoms, wanting to make sure you were prepared.
you were pacing around your bedroom, your duffle bag having been packed with the things you'd need; you didn't know why you were nervous, it wasn't like you'd never done anything sexual, and more often than not, your heated makeout sessions in your bed ended up with his hand in your panties or his cock in your mouth.
but the thing was... he had no idea that you were a virgin. sure, you had boyfriends before him, but most of the time things stayed strictly hand-or-mouth zone. but honestly, the moment you two drove to the nearby cliffs and he told you about the different constellations, you were ready to jump him right there, but you didn't want to give him the wrong idea, so you simply adored him while the boy pointed out the stars to you. however, after a few weeks of dating, he drunkenly told you about how he'd only slept with one person, and was kind of worried that you were more experienced, which you found adorable.
but, when you finally heard your doorbell ring, you took a deep breath, and tried to calm yourself down before having to face your boyfriend and have the boy realize that you had just spent the entire morning overthinking a simple camping trip.
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"are we going where i think we're going?" you asked pope, the boy driving your car, having nicked your sunglasses off the dashboard, now covering his eyes, and to be fair, they looked much better on him than they did on you.
"damn, have i already lost the ability to surprise you?" he chuckled, making you roll your eyes playfully, the boy taking your right hand into his and pressing a kiss onto it, "we are. but i have a surprise for you waiting there."
honestly, i should've known that the place he was taking me was the location of our first date even before he turned the car on; he wouldn't really admit it, but there was a part of him that could be incredibly cheesy, and you liked that about him. most of the guys you'd dated before him hadn't been nearly as thoughtful as pope was, and even though you'd only dated him for a few months, he'd been more considerate than some boyfriends you'd been with for close to a year.
it wasn't long until the two of you arrived near the cliffs where you'd had your first date, pope taking your hand into his as you traipsed through the woods, the boy much more comfortable in the terrain that you were, and whenever you were about to trip, he steadied you, trying not to laugh.
you gasped when you finally realized what pope's surprise was, when you noticed a tent perched close to the cliff, overlooking the water. the two of you walked closer to it, and that was when you realized that pope had put up fairy lights all around the tent, and there was a blanket that stretched all the way over to the cliff so you could sit there and look at the stars like you'd done on your first date.
"do you like it?" he asked, as he wrapped his warm arms around you, and you looked up to him with a smile, nodding eagerly, the sight in front of you causing your heart to clench in your chest. "i love it."
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"how many times do i need to tell you to blow on it?" pope laughs, almost doubling over on the blanket as he just watched while you struggle with the s'more, letting the gooey confection fall onto a plastic plate before you took a large chug of wine from your plastic cup, the liquid now lukewarm.
you'd spent the day swimming, watching while pope surfed, playing cards, and simply talking, now he was blowing onto your s'more, while the two of you sat on the blanket on the cliff, and as you felt the wine starting to warm you up, the last thing you cared about was your damn s'more, but you also didn't know how to initiate, the boy always-
"i wanna have sex."
before you could think about your wording any more, it just... slipped out, pope's eyes widening as he let out a cough, nearly choking on his wine as he processed your words. "what?" he asked in between coughs, and you waited for him to start coughing before repeating yourself.
"i wanna have sex. with you, if that wasn't clear." you said, clearing your throat, "that came out... more straightforward than i intended." you said with a small smile, feeling your cheeks warm up as you looked down at the ground.
"are... are you sure?"
"yeah. i mean, i've wanted it for a really long time, but i suck at initiating any of that stuff, and i haven't ever done it before so it's probably gonna be awkward and if you don't want to, that's also fine and i can definitely wait even longer but-"
before you could babble any longer, pope pressed his lips on yours, and somehow his kiss could make you forget everything you were thinking about, your focus only on him as he pulled you closer by your waist, hunger evident in every move he made as if he hadn't just eaten three s'mores, his lips tasting of the red wine you'd been sharing.
he pulled away from the kiss, the palm of his hand moving to cup your cheek, "i'd love to, but... are you sure? like... absolutely sure? you really haven't... done it before?"
"i'm more than sure." you say, your voice weak from the effect his kiss had on you, "i've known pretty much from the first time you kissed me right here. you're... just the sweetest guy i know. you're so smart, and... i've never liked anyone as much as i like you."
"you're adorable." he says as he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, "i, uhh... i just don't have any..." pope clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck, and although you didn't know it, he was internally cursing himself for not accepting the condom jj had offered him earlier. "protection, y'know."
"i do."
pope almost let out a chuckle at how fast you had rebutted his words, the boy watching as you pulled out a condom from your purse, pressing his tongue against his cheek. "you came prepared, huh?" he couldn't help but grin, his amusement only heightening when he saw the pout on your face, the boy pressing a small kiss on your lips, "i think that's cute."
it wasn't long until the two of you were tangled on the blanket under the stars, pope's shirt thrown into the tent, your dress pushed up until it was only covering your breasts, pope kneading the fat of your ass, his lips greedily consuming yours.
he pulled away from the kiss, leaving the both of you panting and breathless, his calloused hands pulling your dress off in its entirety, throwing it into the tent, his lips attaching themselves to your neck while you unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, one of his fingers slipping into your panties, the boy letting out a small chuckle into the crook of your neck when he felt how wet you were.
when the rest of your clothes were discarded, you watched as he rolled the condom onto his hard cock with a sigh, biting down on your lip as a mixture of eagerness and nervousness rolled around in your abdomen.
"tell me if it hurts too much, or if you want to stop, alright?" he looked at you with raised brows, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips as his chest was pressed against yours, pope brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "i will." you smiled, positioning your hands on his shoulders.
you weren't quite prepared for the loud gasp that he'd pull you from you when only the tip of his cock was in you; sure, he'd prepared you and tried to stretch you out with his fingers beforehand, but even his thick digits hadn't prepared you enough.
"are you alright?" he paused his movements, peppering soft kisses on your neck, "just tell me if you want me to stop."
"i'm okay..." you said breathlessly, "go ahead."
it took you a while to get used to feeling him stretch you out, it definitely didn't help that pope was probably the biggest guy you had dated, but slowly it started hurting less and less, the boy whispering sweet words into your ear as he moved inside of you slowly, your back arching against the blanket, your nails digging into his back every time he bottomed out inside of you, causing him to let out low groans every time he hit that spot inside of you.
"you're doing so well..." he spoke softly, his thumb rolling over your clit, slowly starting to pick up his pace, "taking me so well... don't know how i went so long without you, you feel so fucking good..."
his lips attached themselves to one of your hardened nipples, your mind turning hazy as you tried to focus on all the sensations pope was making you feel, the coil in your stomach growing with every roll of his hips, one of your hands in his hair as you let out a moan, arching into his mouth.
"pope, i'm getting close..." your words were between a mumble and moan, but it seemed that pope still understood what you had said, picking up his pace just slightly so it'd be easier for you to achieve your orgasm.
it wasn't long until you were moaning out his name, overcome with your orgasm as he continued moving inside of you, slowing down his movements as he let you ride out your orgasm.
when pope had come undone himself, he threw the used condom into the trash bag he had brought, pulling you close to his chest as he pressed a kiss on top of your head, covering your naked bodies with another blanket.
"that's cepheus." he said against your hair, pointing up at one of the constellations in the sky while you simply nuzzled closer to his chest, letting out a soft "mmhm..." as you closed your eyes, somehow feeling more comfortable on a cliff in the middle of the forest than you even did in your own bed. "happy birthday."
BONUS: before he came to see you, when pope told his friends about what his plan for your birthday was, jj definitely clapped him on the back and said, "you're finally gonna get laid!" and tried to get him to take a condom with him, but pope just looked at him murderously.
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snixkers · 5 months ago
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Bailed Out
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Pairing: Elle Greenaway × Fem!Reader
Fluff/Minor Angst
For: requst by @lez-talk1 and @imagining-in-the-margins Pride Challenge!!!
Content Warnings: Cursing, internalized homophobia/biphobia, canon level violence, no physical descriptors
Summary: Elle has a crush on you. Elle doesn't want to.
Author's Note: Gotta get my sapphic representation innnnn for Elle. Also, whoever requested this, I'm so sorry, it was lost in the comments. Enjoy!!!
Feedback is always welcome!
Requests are OPEN!
Elle Greenaway knew she was fucked.
She had been held hostage, shot, traumatized, and more in her years at the BAU. But by far, the worst thing was her crush on you.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with you. Your smile lit up a room, and your confidence made her feel better by association. But when she realized that the feelings were more than just a like, she began to realize some things about herself.
She had a crush on a girl. And she was a girl. Did that make her a lesbian? She wasn't big on labels, but it didn't make sense. She could flirt with men, find them attractive, be interested in them romantically. Could she do both?
Something about saying that she liked girls was scary. Not that she cared if other people did, but it was herself. She liked girls.
Maybe she was just jealous and dealing with issues after the Fisher King.
Easier to do that than actually mention anything to you.
Which worked well for a couple months, until those feelings started to get stronger. It was no longer that she liked a girl, she was in love with a girl. Which was a whole new can of worms she was not opening.
Every single time you two would get paired up on a case, she would stare longingly at you to the point where Hotch offered time off because he believed she was disassociating.
It was a stupid little crush, and it was getting out of hand. She had to do something about it sooner rather than later.
Elle, headstrong and unable to tackle her emotions properly, walked up to you after the majority of people had gone home and tapped on your back.
"Hey, can we talk?"
You spun around, and it nearly knocked her on her ass just how much you made her day better. All her previous ideas about asking you out or maybe accusing you of some type of witchcraft immediately dissipated.
"Um, do you need more coffee?"
You shook your head, putting in your headphones and turning back to your computer.
"All set."
"Yeah, no problem. Sorry for bothering you."
So Elle Greenaway, who had stared down killers and rapists, fled back to her desk with her tail between her legs.
The second time she tried to ask you out, it was during a movie that Garcia and Reid had dragged everyone along to. The seats were scattered for convenience, and some sick deity* had placed the two of you together.
*Garcia
She spent the entire movie nervously fidgeting, considering asking for another bathroom break before realizing you might think three meant she was having a medical episode.
So she sucked it up, basking in your sweet perfume and the high of sitting next to you. During the credits, you were both getting up when some sick deity** forced her to bump into you. You held onto her arms to steady yourself, and Elle did something incredibly stupid.
**not Garcia
She leaned forward and kissed you before promptly turning around and walking out of the theater.
The next week was tense and uncomfortable, but she made sure there wasn't any chance of another one-on-one.
She didn't try to ask you out a third time. After the movie theater disaster, why should she?
Clearly it wasn't meant to be. She had enough emotional baggage to fill the overhead bins of the BAU jet. It would be better to forget about the whole thing.
But you had different plans.
After a week of avoidance, you walked up to her desk with a purpose, and she immediately panicked. Before she could apologize profusely (since when did she apologize?), you had kissed her.
Oh.
"There, now we're even. But if you want to do me a favor, you could come get dinner with me tonight."
Oh.
"Um, sounds great. I'll just, uh, get my stuff."
Now she sounded like Reid. Dammit. She watched you walk away with a satisfied smile, sighing to herself.
Elle Greenaway liked girls. She liked you. She was getting used to it, but she could definitely get used to you.
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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago
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Maybe Yan!Alicent and Yan!Criston. I think a romantic dynamic would be interesting
❝ 🐉 — lady l: Someone stop me because I'm writing hcs after hcs lmao! Anyway, I made these hcs in honor of our Green Queen and our Ser Cole, I hope you like them! 💚💚
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death, polygamous relationship.
❝🐉pairing: yandere!alicent hightower x gn!reader x yandere!criston cole.
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You had caught Alicent's attention a long time ago, when she still fondly remembered the time she was friend with Princess Rhaenyra. She never acted on it, however, always in the shadows observing your interactions with others.
You could read the jealousy, the pure envy in the Queen's brown eyes when she saw you close to someone else. She hated it, she hated them and she hated herself more for wanting you. She was well aware of what she felt but never wanted to confront them. She was afraid.
But she was more afraid of being away from you, of you being separated from her. Alicent didn't have an active participation in your life, but she was tired of seeing you giving attention to those who didn't deserve it, to those who weren't worthy of you. So she decided to act.
Criston followed Alicent's orders blindly, she was his Queen and he had sworn to her. Whatever she asked, he would do without hesitation. And this was no different when he came to you, after being ordered by her.
Cole didn't know exactly why Alicent was so interested in you, but he knew it had nothing to do with him. It was her choice and he would just obey. However, it was only after he contacted you, and spoke to you that he finally understood.
Alicent was the most controlling, imposing her desires and expectations on you. You should be like her, modest and devout. She knew it was wrong to fall in love and even more so to get involved with you, but she didn't care. For the first time in her life, she would be doing something for herself and not for others.
Criston also had his morals and his honor, although less than Alicent. He fell in love quickly and wasn't shy about showing it. He was in love, he wanted to be loved by you. He needed you. Cole is more liberal in his obsession, giving you more freedom.
Once they both realize that they are interested in you, things will get interesting. Normally, they would never agree to share you, but it was with each other, with whom they had a strong and close bond.
They are incredibly possessive, overprotective, and petty in their obsession. They agreed to share you because they knew there would be no one else but them for you. No one who was worthy of you, at least.
Alicent adored you, she loved dressing you in shades of green, combing your hair, and telling you how much she loved you. She was deeply in love with you and you were a breath of fresh air for the Queen after a long day at the council. There was no place she preferred more than your arms.
Criston worships the ground you walk on, always watching your every move like an eagle. His eyes never leaving you and yearning for you with every passing second. He couldn't live without you anymore, not when you were his air.
They protect you fiercely, especially Criston. Anyone who looks or breathes in your direction will be eliminated from the Earth. No one, absolutely no one, can think of hurting you. They are ready to destroy anyone.
You are unconditionally spoiled by them, especially Alicent. She loves showering you with clothes (mostly in green tones), jewelry, shoes and anything else that money can buy. Criston is more modest, but he also spoils you a lot.
They are willing to go against anyone who might threaten you or cause you discomfort. Alicent likes to hold you, brush your shoulders against yours shyly while she admires you. Criston watches you from afar, looking at you with love, and likes to hold your hands.
You can't leave them, not after everything they've done to make sure you stay with them. Any marriage proposals will be quickly shot down and Criston is more than willing to beat any potential suitor to death. And Alicent will support his actions.
There's no escaping them, especially once the Dance of the Dragons begins. You will be under lock and key in the Red Keep. They can't risk losing you. They love you too much so that's why they can't let you go.
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aventurineswife · 22 days ago
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Could I request Lucifer reassuring his lover who's doubting their abilities despite being incredibly talented?
Poor reader thinks they're boring because they'd rather focus on their work and duties instead of being romantic.
“Perfect the way you are”
Summary: Lucifer reassures his lover, who is doubting their abilities and feeling "boring" due to their focus on work over romantic gestures. He reminds them that their dedication, strength, and unique qualities are what make them special, and that they don’t need to conform to anyone’s expectations to be enough for him.
Tags: Lucifer x Reader, Comfort, Reassurance, Insecurity, Self-doubt, Romance, Supportive Relationship, Positive Affirmations.
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The dimly lit office was filled with the soft rustle of papers and the faint hum of the ever-present magical energy that flowed through the room. Lucifer sat behind his desk, his sharp eyes scanning through a pile of paperwork with an air of absolute focus. His pen moved swiftly across the page, as if the weight of the world depended on every stroke.
You, standing a few feet away, were struggling to put your thoughts into words, a quiet storm of insecurities swirling within your mind. You had always prided yourself on your dedication, your work ethic, and the level of responsibility you carried. But tonight, for reasons you couldn't quite explain, a familiar nagging doubt gnawed at you.
Am I boring? You thought. Am I a failure?
The room felt suffocating as you shifted from one foot to the other, biting your lip in uncertainty. You had noticed lately that your focus on work and duties had begun to overshadow your usual playful, romantic side. It wasn't that you didn’t love Lucifer—far from it. But there had been no grand gestures, no sweeping declarations of love. You were too busy, too consumed with tasks to notice the opportunities slipping away.
Lucifer, ever perceptive, glanced up from his papers, his sharp eyes catching the slightest shift in your demeanor. He could see it, the way you hesitated, the way your eyes betrayed a thought that had been haunting you for days. He put down his pen, an unspoken understanding crossing between the two of you.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. “Something is bothering you.”
You hesitated, unsure of how to voice the thoughts that had been swirling around in your head. Finally, unable to keep them bottled up anymore, you spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Lucifer... do you think I’m boring?”
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not at all surprised by your sudden outburst. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “Boring? What makes you think that?”
You looked away, feeling your heart sink at your own vulnerability. “I mean... I know I’m not exactly the romantic type. You’re always so... grand and confident, and I just... I’m not like that. I focus on my work, my duties. But lately, it feels like that’s all I’m good for. I’m starting to wonder if I’m... not enough. If I’m boring to you.”
Lucifer’s expression softened, his usually cold and aloof demeanor slipping for a moment. He stood up and walked toward you, his steps steady, purposeful. When he reached you, he lifted your chin gently with a finger, urging you to meet his gaze.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low, yet filled with the sincerity you rarely heard from him. “You’re not boring. In fact, you’re far from it.”
You blinked, surprised by the intensity in his voice. “But... I don’t show you enough affection. I don’t do things like other people. I don’t make grand gestures or...”
“Stop,” Lucifer interrupted, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You are incredibly talented, more than you realize. You focus on your duties, your work—because that’s your strength. You have an inner strength that I admire deeply, and while I enjoy affection as much as anyone else, I also understand the importance of the responsibilities you bear.”
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, his words sinking in slowly, washing away the doubts that had clouded your mind.
“I don’t need grand gestures to know you care for me,” he continued. “I see the dedication you put into everything you do, and that dedication speaks louder than any romantic overture ever could.”
His eyes softened, the usually commanding Lucifer now vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. He reached for your hand, his fingers gently entwining with yours.
“You don’t have to be anything other than who you are for me to love you. The way you are, the way you care for your work—it’s a part of what makes you... you,” he said, his tone deepening. “And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”
Your breath caught in your throat, his words finally breaking through the walls you had built around yourself. You stared into his eyes, and for the first time that evening, you allowed yourself to believe in what he was saying.
Lucifer squeezed your hand, a reassuring smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “So no, my dear, you are not boring. You are talented, you are strong, and you are more than enough for me. You’ve always been enough.”
A wave of relief washed over you, and a soft laugh escaped your lips. You were still uncertain about many things, but in that moment, you understood one thing for sure: you were enough.
Lucifer leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead, a silent promise passing between you both. “And if you ever doubt yourself again... you know where to find me.”
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his touch, the security in his words. Maybe you didn’t need to be like everyone else. You didn’t need to follow the expectations others placed on you. You just needed to be yourself. And that, as it turned out, was exactly what Lucifer needed as well.
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cevherien · 7 months ago
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Malibu's Finest ⊹ ࣪ ˖
ft. Johnny Cage
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Sugar Daddy!Johnny Cage x Reader
Your sugar daddy spoils you a little too well, life's going great. Crazy to think he is this good to you when he's only your sugar daddy.
A/N: We are so back in the himbo business 😼
Tags; Daddy Kink, Sugar Daddy, Lingerie, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Soft Johnny Cage,
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Johnny had his hand on your waist as you two left the Michelin Star restaurant, holding you close to him and pressing against you with his lean body. Leading you towards his ridiculously expensive Mercedes to take you back to his penthouse.
"Let's get back to my place for the night, yeah?" his voice a little raspy, almost making your nipples harden.
You nod and smile with a genuine "Of course." His calloused fingers find their way towards your hips, trailing them down from their previous hold on your waist.
He opens the door for you and then walks to the drivers side of the car to get in himself, he gives your left thigh a squeeze as he gets the engine running.
"Today was great, Johnny," you say sweetly, he always knew how to spoil you.
"Everyday where I get to be with you is great baby." he then leaves a small peck on the crown of your head, leaving you flustered as he does. Crazy to think he was this good to you when he's only your sugar daddy.
Even crazier to think that you were able to find someone like him, not only was he incredible attractive, attentive, lean and good in sex but he fucking paid you to be around him. You were getting paid to have the best times of your life. And the best sex of your life.
You genuinely wonder how he got all that money, yeah he was an actor and all that but.. he really had too much, i mean he was able to afford all that and those rich people black credit cards. You had asked him previously but his answer was a plain 'i have connections with the government'.
And if you tried digging deeper into it he would always say something about being a professional in the field and yapping about how he's too good of an asset not to pay so much and whatnot afterwards. His line of work was out of limits, it seems.
To think that riding his face while you jack him off with your hands wasn't off limits but his job was. Life worked in weird ways.
You hadn't realized but you've been staring at him for quite some time while he drove thinking he wouldn't notice since he was busy with the road, only to come to your senses when he looks at you from the corner of his eye and a small chuckle leave his lips.
"W-what?" you mumble, caught off guard.
"Nothing,,"
Your relationship with Johnny being only pseudo-romantic and transactional changed nothing to you, he made you feel good and you would never deny this to yourself. Even if you had started this thing with him for monetary reasons, it turned into something much more real and sentimental.. atleast on your end.
He gives you a wink as you turn your head away from him to the window and watch the outside as the drive home goes through.
Ah, Cage Mansion.
You are never not surprised at the sight of his house, all the other properties next to his too no less. You weren't so familiar with gated communities but this one seemed to even go above and beyond. To be expected of Johnny Cage of course. It's a mystery how this man wasn't married already.
He takes your hand and walks you to the entrance, making his way by the grandiose garden. The cold night air makes you shiver a little, but his presence giving your stomach a warm familiar feeling you can't really explain.
One of his housekeepers opens the door and gives a small nod to him then to you, "Welcome back home, Mr. Cage."
"Good to be back."
She takes your coats and your purse then excuses herself, leaving you two alone. It was getting late anyways so Johnny takes you towards the masterbedroom. You were familiar with his place even though it sometimes felt like a maze trying to make your way around.
"You want to take a shower?" he asks looking back down towards you from the stairs as he continued to hold your hand firmly.
"I'm s'tired.. maybe in the morning?"
"Whatever my girl wants." he then pulls you close by your hand, arms finding the small of your back and leans in gingerly to kiss the corner of your plum glossy lips, teasing himself with the taste of them.
"Johnny stoopp-!" you chuckle in a flirty sweet tone fit for a real sugar babe, your ways been stuck for so long yet he makes you feel all the different. Don't wanna admit that yet though, he'd probably laugh at you anyways. Just breathe in and do what you do best, you tell yourself.
He laughs back in return, but not without giving you a small peck on the lips leaving you wanting for more, slowly pulling you into his bedchambers with a firm grip a little too close to your ass.
Out of all the pay pigs you had, johnny -which you are really inclined not to call him that, his charms were really getting to your cute little head apparently- been the best to you by far with a fucking landslide. Normally you don't feel like a human with those men, as cheesy as it gets you really feel butterflies in your stomach with the way he treats you. Kicking your feat and twirling your hair with the thought of him.
Futile, you think, 'he just sees me as a way to get off, a pretty face, his eye candy'
Within the blink of an eye, you reach your much anticipated destination, the door to the master bedroom slamming against the big ticket wooden frames and getting you out of your dazed trance state with Johnny all over you not long after.
You kiss him again, pressing your soft lips against his. Your eyes are closed, your bodies touching, mouths slowly opening for one another. His sweet touch pulls you in close, squeezing you in his arms.
Hands slide slowly down your body. You close your eyes, breathing deeply as you feel his touch. His fingers brush against your skin, exploring your curves. You feel his fingers press lightly, and then harder, against your cheeks, your thighs, and finally…
His breath catches in his throat as he whispers, "I need it."
This earns a moan that leaves your system with an urgency that could only be explained with intimate touch, show don't tell.
“You’re wearing the red lace, baby?” he murmurs, lips brushing softly against your neck.
"Yes daddy, like you asked."
"Good baby, always s'good." Johnny pulls your dress down impatiently and effortlessly, his mouth moves down to kiss around your breasts following the lines of your lace lingerie as his hand finds your underwear. Dampen in the center with your arousal
Wet eager tongue moves along your collarbone and he nibbles gently on it, “As much as i love seeing you like this I need you to be completely naked baby,” he whispers, hands moving towards the clasp of your bra.
You let him, as you do. With a soft "Mhm." and thats all he needs.
Fingers tug on the clasp with eager motions, the cloth unfastening and spilling out your breasts. "Mmm," he murmurs, eyes tracing down along your skin as his tongue meets your nipple. He suckles on them for a little then before you know it you he walks you over to the bed with his hands and mouth all over you and sets you down on it as he pulls back with a pop and a saliva trail separating your swollen puffy nipple and his mouth.
He quickly tosses his clothes to the side, leaving him bare to you as you take in his features you love so much. Trailing up from his chest to V line towards his hardening cock that's standing loud and proud.
He presses your shoulders back against the bed and gets on top of you shortly, using his height to his advantage. Hands glide up your thighs and he slips one on between your legs and caress the skin, teasing your eager pussy. He leans forward once again, whispering into your ear.
"Mm..." you gasp, his fingers finally reaching your bundle of nerves. Johnny's pressed up against you, his eyes locked on yours.
"Baby's so wet," he whispers. Between you his shaft lies thick and ready, pearling at the tip with his milky white pre already. But he so generously makes sure to take care of you and prep you before anything else. The gentleman he was.
His tongue snakes out and he licks softly at your wetness but he doesn’t press further than that. You whine at a need for more stimuli, eager for anything he might have for you.
"Johnny- Please, god, need you just so bad."
He bites his lip as he starts licking you softly. And he makes sure to pay extra attention to your sensitive spots. He keeps glancing up at you with a almost sinful expression on his angel face.
"Mm," he chuckles, "just wait. You haven't felt anything until I'm inside you baby," he teases, his fingertips gently massaging your folds without much press, just enough to get you over the edge asking for more.
His touch too good not to respond, with moans of his name spilling out with wet slick noises of your cunt and his tongue, nails imprinting where you've been holding them tightly.
His teeth scrape your clit and thats the last straw to your resistance, making you cum on his face with praises and pecks to your hood while your juices like honey, saccharine dripping down his chin.
Your chest falls with a content huff, head fuzzy with your orgasm hitting you in all the right places. Calling daddy so sweet he almost has an aneurysm. Cherubic. Angels be damned.
"You ready for me babygirl?" pulling away from your wet center only to grab a handful of your ass to spread you apart on his sheets, white soft and crumbled.
Pussy still throbbing and leaking you nod, giving him an easy slide in with your wetness dripping down your fluttering hole. He slides in, one single thrust with no signs of struggle from your velvet like walls.
"Fitting just right, yeah baby?” His hand traces along your body, thumb brushing against your clit in makeshift circles as his eyes look into yours with thrum.
"Daddy,-" you melt against his skin with a soft grunt.
He puts one of your legs over his shoulder and brings you closer to his face. "That's better."
His one hand slides beneath your back to gently press you against him completely as the other drags up your thigh, pulling you into a slightly better position to continue. "I'm gonna try to hold out and last longer this time, I think you deserve it." And you bite back a moan.
With that, Johnny rolls his hips in a delicious rhythm slowly against you, lips brushing against eachother as he licks your bottom lip for you to give in and open your mouth. As soon as you accept the intrusion he massages his tongue against yours and starts sucking on it not long after.
Lips slick and swollen, he pulls away with a trail of saliva connecting you together. Hips start slamming harder against you as he never breaks eye contact. Pulling your hips harder almost bruising them.
"God, baby,” he moans, “your little pussy is so tight.”
"So much, daddy- It feels s'good nngh,"
"Yes honey, so good," he grins and starts to trail his fingers down to your stomach settling on your belly where there is a small bump coming up with each thrust, his tip visible stretching you out.
His other hand reaches your clit to pinch and roll it with the rhythm of his hips, wet with both your juices. Feeling drunk and intoxicated on his dick; tits going up and down, hard nipples pressed against his chest giving them some friction and all you can think is how good he makes you feel.
The sound of sex mixed with his smell and movement intoxicating you, lips agape with sweet calls for his name escaping your system between his feverish moves.
That soft moan prompts a faster, deeper movement as he presses up against you, his breath hitting against your neck. "Mm that’s it,” he chuckles grinding and working you open, “take it all, your little pussy can take it."
You cry out as his tip kisses the opening of your womb, cunt eagerly milking his girthy hard cock.
"Daddy- Yes, yes, god, please," you plead, head dizzy.
"Feeling good sweetness?" his movement never faltering, going with a pace that almost burns your insides.
"Mhm, yes daddy s'good nmgh"
You squirm with a rush of arousal gushing through your slick hole as you cum stupid on his cock, half open eyes rolling back with your tongue out involuntarily.
He growls as you clench around him and whine; going up and down like a ragdoll, limbless.
"Baby's making daddy feel so good..." he mumbles, his fingers biting into your thighs. He pushes at your hips, his arms straining to keep him locked against you. "Too good," he whispers again.
Johnny was closing his release too, you could tell by his face and his cock twitching inside of you.
"Fuck, baby" he keeps rocking into your eager pussy, caressing your sides while he gets closer to his release. "Im close sweet girl, you ready?"
Nodding, you pull him in for a sloppy wet kiss, all spit and tongues while he spills his hot load inside of you, groaning against your lips.
He rides out his pleasure with quick strokes, fucking you into the mattress dumb. You hold onto his shoulders with the last remaining strength you got left.
The air was musky and heavy with your breaths and sex, leaving your pussy throbbing against him.
Johnny drops a final open mouthed kiss then slowly slips out of you with a silken pop, your pussy almost sucking him in not wanting to let go. A soft breathy whine heard from you, feeling empty now that he's pulled out.
White dripping down your thighs as he lays next to you, chest heavy with previous adrenaline and primal lust.
Both of you disheveled and content, he pulls you to his side and spoons you, cleaning can wait now. All you need is to cuddle him close.
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jae-bummer · 1 year ago
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Erasing Boundaries
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Request: Hi I hope you're well~~I'd really like to see no.12 with Bang Chan from the prompt list. 👀 I'd also like to say that I've been a long time follower and I really love reading your works! Thank you for putting the time and effort!! <3
Prompt:
12) When your bias tries to delicately friendzone you, they realize you just wanted to be friends in the first place. Shortly after, they realize they’re the ones falling for you.
Pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader
Genre: Fluff
.
"We're just friends."
"You're a trustworthy person, Chan," Lee Know muttered from his spot on the studio couch. "So I don't understand why you're lying to me right now."
"I'm not lying!" Chan said, spinning around in his office chair. "I really don't have feelings for Y/N."
"Right," Lee Know muttered. "Because instead of multiple feelings, you have one feeling, and it is love."
"Seriously?" Chan groaned, flopping his head back. "Why are you even saying this?"
"You follow them around like a lovesick puppy," Lee Know sighed, pulling out his phone. "Don't think I haven't noticed."
"I feel insulted," Chan pouted. "I am not lovesick, nor am I a puppy."
"A lovesick wolf then."
Chan groaned again as he spun away from his younger member.
After a moment of silence, he turned back around. "Do you think Y/N has feelings for me?"
"Probably," Lee Know hummed, not bothering to look up. "But I thought you didn't have feelings for them."
"I don't!" Chan gasped. "Maybe...maybe I should talk to them."
"And confess? Good idea."
"No!" Chan chuckled. "To just confirm that we're friends and nothing more than that."
"Are you sure you really want to create that boundary?" Lee Know asked with lifted brows. "You're friend zoning yourself."
"I'm friend zoning, Y/N," Chan nodded. "This idea that we like each other romantically must have come from how they interact with me. I know I haven't been flirting."
"I'm sorry," Lee Know sighed. "Are you finally having a mental break? Or are we living two incredibly different lives?"
"I think you're seeing what you want to see," Chan nodded finitely.
"Hello, pot?" Lee Know laughed. "This is kettle. You're black."
"I can't be in a relationship right now," Chan sighed, switching tactics. "We've got too much going on."
"There are far too many arguments I can make," Lee Know muttered. "And frankly I'm exhausted."
"Good," Chan grinned. "I'll let you know how the talk goes."
"Please, don't."
..
"Why was your text so ominous?" you asked, plopping across Chan's bed. Taking a long sip from your frozen coffee, you looked up to see him pacing back and forth in front of you.
"Ominous?" he muttered. "It wasn't ominous. I just asked you to come over."
"You said we-" you cleared your throat, trying to pitch your voice deeper to match Chan's tone. ""needed to talk.""
"Well, it wasn't so much of a need as it is a want," he sighed, finally stopping and sitting down beside you.
You narrowed your eyes at your friend, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. Normally he had at least a hundred things swirling around up there, but today seemed to have a hundred and one.
"You're kind of starting to freak me out," you grumbled, sitting up from your lounging position to better look at him.
"No need," he said quickly. "I just...I wanted to make sure something was clear between us."
"Okay..." you trailed off.
"We're friends, yeah?"
"If we weren't, I'd consider the past year to be a cruel joke," you teased, but instantly stopped as Chan's face remained solemn.
"Chris?" you squeaked. "We are friends...right?"
"Of course, we are!" he gasped, moving to squeeze your knee, but stopping short. Taking a moment to compose himself, he finally swiveled toward you. ""Y/N, you're one of my people."
Your heart gave a small flip. Chan was one of your people too. As someone you could always go to for advice or comfort, he reminded you of the type of guy who was your older sibling's friend that you always had a childhood crush on. You reconciled long ago that someone like him was out of your league, or at least that was your perception of it.
"And as one of my people, I want you to know how important you are to me."
"Chris," you hummed, holding your hand up in the air. "This is awfully sentimental for a Thursday afternoon."
"Right," he winced. "I'll save you my speech that I definitely didn't take an hour figuring out last night."
Your eyes grew wide.
"Joking," he chuckled unconvincingly.
You would find out later that he, in fact, was not joking.
"Long story short," he continued, unable to meet your eyes. "We're friends."
"Yep."
"Just. Friends." he said, emphasizing each word.
"Hearing you loud and clear," you nodded, still unsure what the climax of the conversation would be.
"Good, good," he nodded, reaching toward the drink you had brought him. "So, how was your day?"
"Wait, I'm sorry," you coughed. "Was that it?"
"Well, yeah," he said, furrowing his brow. "Why?"
"I legitimately had anxiety on my way over here," you gasped. "And it was simply for you to tell me something I already knew?"
"You had anxiety?" Chan pouted, his expression soft. "That wasn't my intention at all! It's just that the members kept hinting to me that they thought we were involved, and I wanted to make sure the record was set straight with everyone and-"
"Take a breath, Chris," you sighed. You patted him lightly on the shoulder. "I may have had anxiety, but I also am relieved to know it was over something so silly. I know we're friends."
"We are," he nodded. "You're the Patrick to my SpongeBob, the-"
"Wait, why do I have to be Patrick?" you muttered.
"Because you live under a rock and can't open a jar on your own," he grinned.
"Ah, right," you teased. "And you're SpongeBob because you never stay hydrated and have an unhealthy fixation with your job."
"Low blow, Y/N."
"The truth hurts, doesn't it?"
...
"I messed up."
"You're right," Lee Know hummed. "We should have given Hyunjin up for adoption years ago. Should I start looking for the closest fire station?"
"That is not what I meant," Chan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I messed up with Y/N. Bad."
"Please," Lee Know said quietly. "Please tell me you did not do what I think you did."
"I made it clear how we are thoroughly, only friends," Chan winced.
Lee Know inhaled deeply through his nose before holding it and letting it out through his mouth.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Chan whispered.
"Give me a minute," Lee Know grumbled. "My therapist taught me to focus on my breathing when I wanted to get violent."
"Minho," Chan deadpanned.
"Yes, I know, you're my hyung, and I shouldn't speak to you this way, but damnit, man!"
"I know!" Chan cried. "I messed up."
"As you keep saying!" Lee Know sighed. "Now how are you going to fix it?"
"Fix it?" Chan chirped. "I shouldn't just wallow in my misery?"
"Let's try this," Lee Know said slowly. "If the roles here were reversed, what would you tell me?"
Chan scrunched up his face. "Well, I guess I'd tell you that it's okay to make mistakes and this wasn't a serious one. No one is going to die, except you, maybe of embarrassment. You can try to clear your conscience and confess, or just really make a go at trying to be only friends."
"And that's when I would say...?"
"Full steam ahead, let's make an ass out of ourselves," Chan chuckled.
"Correct," Lee Know grinned. "So let Y/N know how you feel. How you really feel."
"One problem," Chan sighed. "In the process of me friend zoning them, I'm pretty sure they friend zoned me twice as hard."
"What do you mean?"
"They said they knew all along we were only friends."
"Do you think just maybe," Lee Know said, tilting his head. "They were following your lead?"
"I mean...maybe?"
"Well," Lee Know grinned. "Time to find out."
...
"Christopher Bang!" you gasped, flying through the front door of the dorm. "I swear on every star in the sky, and EVEN the one's on Felix's cheeks, that if you summon me again with a "we need to talk" text, I'm going to end you!"
"I don't have much tact when I'm nervous," Chan admitted from the living room sofa. He cringed as he looked up at you. "You look nice today."
"I don't want compliments!" you huffed. "I want an explanation!"
"Okay, and you deserve one," he said calmly. "But first, may I interest you in a beverage?"
"Stop stalling."
"Alright, alright," he grumbled. Pushing himself up from the cushions, he came to stand in front of you. It looked like he hadn't slept in days (which wasn't entirely uncommon) but it seemed to really be wearing on him more than usual. "Our conversation yesterday-"
"Wasn't much of a conversation," you finished. "More like just stating the obvious but continue."
"Whatever it was," Chan sighed. "I was wrong."
"You were...wrong?"
"Yes."
You bit your lower lip, not failing to notice the way it drew Chan's eyes. "So are you saying we're not friends?"
"We are," he said quickly. "But from my perspective, that isn't the full truth."
You waited, unsure of what that could possibly mean.
"I told you yesterday that you were one of my people," he said softly. "But that wasn't entirely accurate. If I was being truthful, with you and myself, I would have said you're my person."
Lifting your brows, you tried not to stagger back. Was he actually about to tell you that he had feelings for you? After you had resolved yourself to live with the shadow of unrequited love?
"I care about you in ways that a normal friend wouldn't," he continued. His voice remained quiet, but he had moved closer. "And I understand if you only see me in that brotherly way, that's okay. I get it, but I drove myself nuts last night playing over our conversation. It was a mistake to try to draw a boundary in our relationship, especially when I honestly wanted to erase any we did have."
"Chris-"
"I'm a mess," he whispered. "I'm stubborn and obsessive and make so many mistakes. I'm tired and worn out...but if you can accept all of that...I'll try to be the best version of myself for you."
You stayed quiet, only able to blink up at him as you processed this new information. It felt as if someone was blowing a balloon in your chest, and it was destined to pop at any moment.
"But also, no pressure," he said quickly. "I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all."
"Silly boy," you said softly, only mildly concerned that you would spook him if you came at the situation too enthusiastically. Crossing the small amount of space between the two of you, you stuck out your bottom lip. "I see the best version of you every day. It's just that some days, your best is going to look different depending on what you have to give. Every trait you listed as a weakness has a strength to it. You're stubborn, but that makes you determined. You're obsessive, but you're committed. And with every mistake you make, you learn. It's okay to recognize the flaws in yourself, but you have to recognize the other side of all that. I care about every side of you, Chris. Every day, some days, whatever you're willing to give...I'm going to take."
You could see Chan's eyes go glassy. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."
"Good," you smiled. "So yes, I care about you in a more than friend way."
You gave yourself a mental high five. Suddenly, the unattainable childhood crush knew you existed, and wanted you back. How often does that happen?
"I don't deserve you," he hummed, cautiously pulling you into his chest. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he gave a loving squeeze. "But I'm glad you think I do."
Kissing him playfully on the underside of his jaw, you laughed. "Shut up, SpongeBob."
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wholoveseggs · 10 months ago
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Better than flowers♡
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
 ♡♡ Happy Valentines Day  ♡♡
You've always hated valentines day until Elijah changes your mind with a magical date.
3.2k words - Warnings: smut, oral, so corny and romantic it hurts …
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You always hated Valentine's day because most of the time, you were alone. Last year, you'd just been dumped, so you spent the entire day in bed. It wasn't until you saw everyone's pictures from their cute dates that you really felt bad.
Even though you were dating someone new, you didn't expect anything. Elijah was always sweet and thoughtful, but you didn't want him to feel like he had to go over the top for this holiday. You had only been dating for a few weeks, so you were happy with just a card and a bouquet of flowers.
It was naïve of you to think that would be enough for him. He was the most romantic guy you'd ever been with. He would randomly buy you things or take you to dinner just because. He even planned a weekend away with you, which was the best.
So, when you got home from work on the 13th you found a garment bag on the bed and a note, you couldn't hide your excitement.
Y/n, I know you dislike Valentine's Day, so I wanted to show my appreciation for you the day before.  I'll pick you up at 8. -Elijah
He liked to leave notes like that for you. It wasn't surprising that he did this. He was such a romantic man. Sometimes it made you uncomfortable because it felt like it was out of a fairy tale, almost surreal.
You were curious about what was in the garment bag and carefully opened it, the hanger still on the inside of the sleeve. The beautiful blush-colored dress inside made your jaw drop. You gently ran your hands over the fabric, a slow smile spreading across your lips. It was romantic and flowy, the kind of dress you would see in an old Hollywood movie.
You took your time getting ready, making sure every part of you looked perfect. Elijah was worth going all out for. When you went to get dressed you noticed he had also bought you lingerie. It was incredibly luxurious, the set probably cost more than your rent.
You smirked to yourself as you slipped into the lingerie. You checked yourself out in the full-length mirror. It fit perfectly, and the color matched your dress. You weren't the lingerie type of girl, but sometimes you could appreciate how good they made you feel.
When Elijah knocked on your door, you finished putting in the pearl earrings he bought you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. The memory made you blush, he'd been so sweet when he asked.
You put your feet in your matching shoes before heading for the door. Your breath was taken away when you saw Elijah. His hair was perfectly styled, and his dark eyes were shining. He dressed for the occasion.
"Hi," he breathed out, giving you that cute lopsided grin. "You look- you look beautiful."
You returned his grin, pressing your hand to his cheek, enjoying the feel of the stubble there. "Thank you. So, where are we going?"
He reached up and held your hand in his, bringing it away from his face and placing a kiss against your knuckles. You could never get tired of that.
"It's a surprise," he said as he led you down to his car. 
“Always with the surprises," you teased.
Once you were sitting in the passenger seat, he smiled over at you, and started the car. He reached over to place his hand on your thigh as he drove. You turned on the radio, surprised when the song you always sang along to came on.
Elijah gave you a soft squeeze when he heard you start singing. He probably thought it was funny, you knew you were not the greatest singer, but you couldn't help but sing along to songs you knew by heart. Elijah always thought it was cute.
When you realized he was taking you outside of the city, your curiosity growing. 
"We're almost there," he told you, and squeezed your thigh again.
He parked in a gravel parking lot, there was no buildings near by, just a forest path. You weren't sure if you should be nervous, but you felt calm around him. He was always protective and sweet.
"If we are going on a hike I didn't wear the right shoes," you joked as he helped you out of the car.
"Not that kind of hiking, not tonight anyway," he commented, and you were a little relieved by that.
His hand held yours as you started down the gravel path. It was dark, you used his phone to shine a light. Your heels didn't do the best on the uneven ground. You stumbled a bit and Elijah scooped you up, making you giggle.
"If you are planning on murdering me in the woods, this is the most romantic way someone has ever done it," you joked, you couldn't help thinking of the worst-case scenario, it was just in your nature.
He chuckled and kept walking, his hands supporting your thighs and back as he carried you. "I wouldn't put in this much effort to just murder you in the woods, love." He teased.
You arrived at a clearing just before the sun was beginning to set. There was twinkle lights strung in the trees and a few lanterns that provided light. At the center of it all was a large wooden table set with plates, champagne, and roses. Candles were lit in every corner of the space.
There was a trail of red rose petals that lead from where you stood to the end of the table, disappearing into the dark of the woods. The moment was surreal.
"Whoa," you muttered, looking around in awe.
Elijah carefully placed you on your feet and held your hand. "You like it?" He asked, his eyes searching yours for approval.
"Elijah," you breathed out his name and placed your hand on his cheek, "This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I love it."
His hand reached up and cupped yours against his cheek. You could feel his blush. He always got so nervous and shy around you, and it was honestly the cutest thing.
Out of the woods came a few servers that began to put food on the table and fill your glasses with champagne. You smiled up at Elijah as he thanked the servants. He led you to your seat, and you grinned as he pulled out the chair for you.
"Such a gentleman," you cooed at him before sitting down. He sat down beside you, turning his chair to face you.
"I would do this for you every day if you would let me," he whispered, his hand sliding across the table and taking yours.
You didn't know how to respond to that so you took a sip of champagne and smiled. He continued smiling back at you, both of you growing more comfortable in silence. You talked for a while about each other's day and you finished off a bottle of champagne by the time the food was ready.
The meal was incredible. Everything was so good. You didn't even notice the sun had set because the whole area was lit up. Elijah had planned it all out and he was amazing.
The table was cleared and moved out of the way so you had room to dance. A violist came out of the trees and started playing, slow jams that you and Elijah could sway to.
You knew he'd been planning this for a while, all the trouble he went through, the lengths he went, just to make tonight special.
"You really didn't have to do all this, all I was expecting was flowers," you confessed.
His mouth brushed against your ear and you felt yourself growing warmer from the intimate gesture. "If I didn't do any of this, then you would continue to hate this holiday. I'm going to show you that it's worth celebrating."
"Show me then," you murmured, wanting his lips against your skin.
He pressed his lips to yours, his tongue lightly brushing against yours before slowly pulling away. "I'll show you every year, every holiday, for the rest of our lives," he promised.
"I can live with that," you purred and sealed your promise with another kiss.
"I do have a confession," he whispered, his fingers weaving through your hair.
You pulled back and looked up at him. His dark eyes were soft, relaxed. You sighed contently, feeling happy and loved. "I'm listening."
"I have another surprise," he muttered, and you hummed at him curiously.
He stepped away and held your hand, leading you toward the trail of rose petals. You held on tightly and leaned into his body. You couldn't stop the silly smile that was spreading across your lips.
Once you got passed the line of trees you could see the cabin. The rose petal trail ended on the porch. It was simple and quaint. Just as beautiful as the romantic clearing you were in just minutes ago.
He scooped you up in his arms. "Elijah!" you squealed, but quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.
Elijah quickly carried you up the steps to the door and set you down. You were both laughing and kissing. He smiled against your lips, his nimble fingers unlocking the door.
You let out a gasp as you took in the place, flowers were everywhere, their smell sweet and welcoming. There was a four-poster bed with vines of roses that were climbing the columns. A fireplace was already lit, making the entire place warm and cosy. The place was only one room, with the bed off to the side. There was a ottoman near the fire and even a telescope to look out into the night sky.
"Elijah... This is amazing." You sighed as you felt his arms slip around you from behind.
"You like it?" He inquired, his lips pressed against your cheek.
You rested your hands against his, leaning back against him. "It's gorgeous, thank you."
He took your hand and led you to the fire, where another trail of red rose petals guided you to the fluffy carpet at your feet. There were more gifts for you laid out, a massive teddy bear and a stack of chocolate bars. It all made you laugh.
"You are ridiculous," you teased, hugging him.
"Is that a good thing?" He mused, holding you and kissing you.
You hummed and sighed. "Yes, yes it is," you assured.
You felt butterflies fill your stomach, knowing what came next. The two of you had only had sex a few times, it was still new, and you were still shy around him when it came to intimacy. He'd always been respectful and sweet. It wasn't as if you were new to this, but he was unlike anyone you'd been with before.
You looked up at him. He gave you that smile that made you weak in the knees. You brushed your fingertips against the creases around his eyes, you loved how they deepened when he smiled.
He leaned in and kissed you slowly, softly, guiding you to the bed as his fingers unzipped the back of your dress. You pushed at his jacket, helping him shrug out of it. Your hands ran over his chest, fumbling with his tie. His hands pushed the straps of your dress down, kissing the newly exposed skin.
He helped you to step out of the dress, gathering it up to fold it carefully before he placed it on the ottoman. Always so organized, everything in place, clean, perfect.
But him seeing you in the sexy lingerie made him drop the dress. The look on his face was unlike anything you've ever seen. For a second it was almost as if he didn't know what to do. He seemed frozen in place, all he was doing was stare.
You felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze and you looked at him shyly. "Thank you for this," you told him, gesturing to the sexy underwear.
"It was a purely selfish purchase," he chuckled, closing the distance between you, his hand coming to rest on your waist.
He traced his fingertips across the see-through pink lace. His touch was gentle and loving. You were growing impatient. You were getting turned on by the way he was touching you, his eyes drinking you in.
You started working on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them slowly. He leaned down and kissed you again, his lips capturing yours. He walked you back to the bed, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the mattress.
He gently guided you to lie down, his mouth following yours, not breaking the kiss. You helped him to undress, removing the last of his clothing and tossing it aside.
You ran your fingers through his hair, admiring the way his dark hair was a little messed up. He smelled so good, like the cologne he always wore and just the faint smell of his natural scent.
He was on top of you, his hands holding yours. His lips were trailing soft kisses down your neck. His hips moved, rubbing himself against you. You let out a soft moan, your breath hitching in your throat.
"I love hearing the sounds you make," he confessed, his lips against your ear, sending a shiver through your body.
You felt the warmth of his fingertips brushing against your inner thigh. Your body tensed in anticipation. He was taking his time, teasing you. He kissed you slowly, his tongue gently slipping between your parted lips.
You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him close as his fingers teased your panties, pushing them to the side. He was still being slow, driving you crazy.
He groaned against your mouth as he felt how wet you were. You whimpered, feeling his fingers brush over your clit, circling it slowly, watching your responses. He loved the way you were looking at him, the sounds that were escaping your pretty little mouth.
He began moving down your body, kissing your neck, your collar bone, between your breasts. You reached up, trying to unhook your bra, but his hands stopped yours.
His lips closed around your nipple through the sheer fabric. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling on it, urging him to continue.
He continued to move lower, down your belly, smiling against your skin as he spread your legs, settling between them.
He hummed at the sight of your arousal, your wet panties clinging to your skin. He kissed along the waistband, his tongue peeking out to taste. You could feel his breath, as he moved the delicate fabric to the side.
Your hands tightened in his hair as his mouth found your clit. You couldn't help but rock your hips, pushing against his mouth. His hands moved over your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he devoured you. You moaned softly, your toes curling as his tongue slid inside of you.
He looked up at you, his eyes watching as you started to fall apart. He wanted to stay this way forever, with the taste of you on his lips, the sounds of your pleasure filling the room.
Your breathing was becoming uneven, your moans growing louder. Your thighs were trembling, your back arching as his tongue flicked against your clit.
You let out a soft cry as your orgasm hit you. Your eyes shut tight, your hands gripping his hair, trying to keep yourself together. His tongue was still on you, working you through the wave of pleasure.
He kissed his way back up your body, his lips capturing yours, his fingers caressing your face, pushing your hair back. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world, and it made you melt.
He was resting between your legs, his erection pressing against you. He was still for a moment, his gaze soft and warm, just gently kissing you.
"I love you," he murmured.
You couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across your face, and neither could he. You ran your fingers through his hair, holding him closer. 
"I love you, too," you said, your voice barely a whisper.
He pulled your panties off, his eyes never leaving yours as you pulled off your bra as well, tossing it aside. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as his gaze fell upon your naked body.
His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, your legs wrapping around him. He eased into you slowly, watching your eyes widen then turn hazy with lust.
His lips found yours, kissing you passionately as the two of you moved together. Your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling on it as you formed a perfect rhythm.
You looked down to watch him slide in and out of you. He was holding back, trying to make this last. He was always so focused, his expression almost stoic, his breathing even.
Your hands ran down his shoulders, gripping onto his biceps, your eyes never leaving his, not even to blink. You didn't want to miss a second of this.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ghosting over your lips.
You felt your face grow hot from his words, and you kissed him to avoid making eye contact. You could feel his heart beating in time with yours. He caressed your cheek, tilting your head to look at him.
You couldn't hide from him. He was looking at you so intensely, all of his love pouring out of him. He smiled at the sight of you, flushed and sweaty, you were gorgeous.
He cupped the back of your neck and held you in place as he kissed you again. Your legs began to tremble as another orgasm crept up on you. You moaned against his mouth, trying to keep your breathing even.
You couldn't hold back anymore, not with the way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you. You came, moaning his name, his fingers laced with yours, your foreheads pressed together.
He followed right after, letting out a low groan that made your skin prickle. He kissed you, his mouth swallowing up your cries.
You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as the two of you rode out the high. Your heart was still racing, your breaths ragged.
The light of the fireplace cast an orange glow over the both of you, your bodies intertwined in the low light. You smiled at him, kissing him softly.
"That was a lot better than flowers," you giggled, feeling a little silly and lightheaded.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He hummed, kissing you again, his fingers caressing your cheeks.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Elijah," you whispered, nuzzling his nose with yours.
He brushed his lips against yours. "Not yet, it's still the 13th," he reminded, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
"Does that mean we have another night?" you purred, giving him a playful smile.
"I like the way you think," he teased, kissing you again, rolling you on top of him.
He held you close, the both of you giggling as he kissed you all over, making you shriek and squirm.
You'd never had a Valentine's Day quite like this one. But you hoped that this was just the first of many.
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♡♡ Today is my three month anniversary on here & I just want to say thank you so much for all the love ♡♡
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
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tethered-heartstrings · 3 months ago
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Hey there ! What are your thoughts on Will and Alana’ s relationship and why did she so easily and quickly become involved with Hannibal? If you can also shed some light on Hannibloom too I would appreciate it, thank you 🤍
I genuinely think Alana cared a lot for Will and didn't want to hurt him. She knew he was unstable, and her being with him would not fix that. I think she did have some feelings for Will, but knew she made a better friend and colleague than romantic partner. She psychoanalyzes people as part of her job, and she can't help but do that to others in her personal life. She didn't want to do that to Will especially if they were dating. Dating someone, even just having sex with them, opens up a vulnerable and different part of you that wouldn't necessarily be exposed otherwise. She knew she couldn't help but dissect him, and people tend to not appreciate being filleted opened by just existing (going to therapy for that purpose is different, and its something you seek out/pay for).
Will is especially sensitive to being psychoanalyzed, and he was growing more unstable as season 1 progressed. She knew it would ruin their friendship and professional relationship and romantic relationship if she pursued something more with Will. I think she cared more about him than he wanted to realize, because I think it was a good and smart choice to not get involved with him. It was the best choice imo.
She wanted him off murder crime scene field work because she was worried about him, because she knew enough about him that she knew it would be detrimental. She didn't want him to get too close and lose stability, lose himself. She was the first person to tell him Abigail was awake. She didn't just call him, she drove an hour to tell him in person and be there for him. She drove to Wolf Trap multiple times because Will called her to say "there is an animal on my property, can you help me find it?" and she went without question. She even went a second time after the first one had no evidence of anything. She broke down when she heard Will was arrested. The next thing she did was go and see him, and she was the first person to see him (on screen after his intake). She didn't want to believe he did it. All the evidence in the world, meticulously placed, was stacked miles high against him. It isn't unreasonable to think Will might be guilty; the evidence was there, he coughed up Abigail's ear and she was missing and her blood coated her Minnesota kitchen floor (again). He was unstable, losing time. She had him draw a clock to give him some hope and chance that even if it was him, he wasn't in his right place of mind, which could be used in his defense. She cared for all his dogs while he was away, and smiled and was happy to see him return home and to his dogs. Alana cared deeply for Will, and knew she would be a better friend and support system than girlfriend, and stuck by his side and was there for him as much as she possibly could.
From day one, she was his advocate. Even when talking to Hannibal, Will's therapist, she says "I don’t want information about Will I shouldn’t have as his friend" because she respects his space and his boundaries. If Will didn't tell her directly, it isn't her business to know. Even when Hannibal asked her why she didn't talk about Will before, she said she just wants everyone to leave him alone. Because she sees everyone pick and prod at him, psychoanalyze him, treat him like a test subject or a thing to study instead of a person. She treated him like a human being.
I don't blame her for not pursuing a relationship, because it is not what Will needed, it would have made him worse, and he needed her as a friend more than anything else. Also, he was just incredibly unstable!
Now, regarding Alana and Hannibal, they already had a history. They talked about how they knew each other when she was earning her degree, and that he was her mentor. They knew each other for years prior to her working for the FBI. The week Miriam went missing, Hannibal knew Jack would send someone and didn't want Alana to be sent (and thus have to hurt/kill her once she knew he was the Ripper), so he gave her another task interviewing PhD candidates. He cared about her, and didn't want to hurt her. He even makes a joke about how other people thought him and Alana were having an affair, and asked why they didn't pursue anything at the time.
Given that they already had history and, to everyone's belief, Hannibal was stable and normal. He was a working professional, attractive, kind, and funny. He worked meticulously to ensure his person suit was flawless and red-flag-free. There is no reason for her, or anyone, to suspect him of literally anything. (and before people go well isn't it obvious? no! because we are the audience! we see things the characters don't! he never ever makes it apparent he is a serial killer!) It makes sense why they got together. I also wouldn't consider it "easy and quick". They knew each other for years, getting your PhD in psychiatry can take 5 to 7 years. If he was her mentor that whole time, that's a long time. She would have learned a lot from him, and about him, and equally he about her. Then Hannibal was back in her life consulting for the FBI, whom she also worked with, and the spark was still there. It seemed like they wanted to before but didn't for various reasons. (In the script after the affair joke from Hannibal she said he was already having an affair, which I took to mean he was married to his job? or unknown hobby of murdering and didn't have as much time). It was also smart to not pursue it at the time given he was her mentor and there was a power dynamic. But in the show, they are colleagues and professional equals, so its fine.
Regarding feelings, I think Hannibal did care for Alana. He took steps to protect her (like having Miriam sent to look for the Ripper instead of Alana). I think he might have loved her, but he wasn't in love with her. He did want to spend time with her, and enjoyed her company, and enjoyed what they shared together. But ultimately, she didn't and couldn't accept him as he truly was, and she got in his way. Given how ruthless Hannibal is, the fact he even gave her the chance to put the gun down and walk away is of importance. When people try to hurt or kill him, Hannibal doesn't just let them do it or get another chance. He eliminates them if he can. He fights and fights dirty, because his only goal is to come out alive.
Yes, he emptied her gun of bullets to protect himself, but he still gave her a chance to walk away unscathed. She was heartbroken and angry and betrayed when she realized she was "so blind". And Hannibal literally said "in your defense, I worked very hard to blind you." and then told her she could continue to "stay blind. You can hide from this. Walk away. I'll make no plans to call on you." He gave her a literal once in a lifetime chance to know his truth, know who he truly is, and walk away alive. I don't think I can state just how huge that is. He cared a lot for her, and truly didn't want her to die. He wanted her to walk away and to never see him ever again. And as we learn later, he is good for his promises. I genuinely believe if she walked away at that time, she would have remained completely unharmed by him. However, he also warned her if she shot at him, he would kill her. If she declined his offer, and tried to hurt him, he would revert to his normal self and survive at all costs, and tear down anyone and anything standing in his way. (I don't at all blame her for trying to kill him, but ultimately that is what got her hurt).
To summarize: Will and Alana would have been a bad match that would have ultimately hurt Will ever more than he wanted to admit, and Alana was the bigger person and didn't pursue him even if part of her wanted to date him, too. Because she cared about him more than he cared about himself. Alana and Hannibal made sense as a couple because they had a long history that wasn't just academic casual, and he worked extremely hard to keep his truth from her. He cared enough about her to want to spare her life and safety multiple times, even betraying his selfish, self-preserving habits to give her a chance to walk away.
p.s. this is an alana supporting blog, please do not come to me with alana hate because idgaf <3
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