#is some of the editing and mixing on this bad? sure is! but did i have fun making it? hell yeah
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bluebeads-art · 19 days ago
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2025 June 25th
Kris glancing back at you when you make them kill 8-bit Susie and Ralsei messed me up, dude. That's gotta be terrifying, not knowing the player's intentions. Like, they only killed them because this is just a game, right? ...right...?
Rambling and behind-the-scenes stuff under the cut
Especially terrifying if Kris has the meta-knowledge that they're in a game. Because if so, the previous cope doesn't work.
Originally, I planned to recreate a screenshot of the 8-bit game only so I could paint over it. However, I was going to slap the image into Blender 3D to warp it with a fisheye lens anyways, so I had the idea of making a CRT shader. Turns out I have shader skill issues and wasn't sure where to start! So I copied the homework of u/CalculatedBinary on Reddit. (Link in replies because I'm still paranoid of the days where external URLs blocked posts from showing up in tags / searches. Filter by oldest first if you don't see it right away.)
I did make some changes, though. CalculatedBinary's shader just makes a ray tube overlay that doesn't react to the texture underneath. But I had the idea to split the RGB channels of both the CRT overlay and image texture, darken each color of ray tube by the image texture's corresponding RGB value, then recombine all 3 channels. Might be easier just to show it.
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Note that the "CRT shader" input is JUST the CRT overlay. This node group slots into the stage where you mix it with the image texture. Speaking of, unless you're working with a high pixel resolution or are viewing it from far away, you'll need to blend this result with your image texture again afterwards, because uhh...! The effect's real strong, captain!
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There's cheater sub-pixels in there to mimic chromatic aberration, but otherwise this is an authentic representation of how CRT screens work! I made some other tweaks to the shader to get the CRT pixels to line up with the image texture pixels more precisely, but I won't get into that unless someone asks because it's nitty-gritty perfectionism stuff.
To circle back to an earlier point, this CRT shader sorta depends on well-defined pixels, so no paint-over for me. Given how long it took me to recreate a screenshot by hand based on nothing but blurry, compressed YouTube videos, I'm considering it fair usage, LMAO. Not like I'm making money off of this.
I love using Blender to solve my problems. Don't know how in the goddamn fisheye lenses work? Blender. Want to make or borrow image filters? Blender. Want that filter to follow the image's perspective? Yep, Blender.
I have minor beef with some of the anatomy and shading, but this piece was taking too long, it's Time to Stop. 😂 I friggin' cooked on the line art and their hair though, heck yea. A shame the dark shadows ate some of it.
Time taken was 33 hours and 38 minutes (at minimum. Forgot to time some of my Blender side-quests.)
July 11th edit: *teleports in like Rouxls Kaard* So CRTs actually don'th worke like that. There's a reblog chain [here] where I ramble even more about stuff I got wrong, I'll update the link when/if it continues.
The TL;DR: 1) I already knew but didn't mention the lack of CRT "pixel" grid staggering because it looked bad in the WIP, so the perfect grid actually looks more like an LCD screen. 2) I totally forgot that the low pixel resolution is a limitation of the game, not the screen. So there should be way more screen sub-pixels per pixel art pixel. 3) I used lots of incorrect terminology in the above description because I didn't know how CRTs worked on a mechanical level. Learn something new every day! 4) Blender renders are Real Quirky and an even more authentic render wouldn't have worked out either way.
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iamgonnagetyouback · 4 months ago
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I'LL SAY, WILL YOU MARRY ME?.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ S. REID
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SUMMARY ৎ୭ falling in love with spencer reid was never a question, only an inevitability. it was in the way he remembered things you barely remembered saying, the way he defied probability just to make you smile, the way he learned you like you were his favorite subject. four times he surprised you—quietly, sweetly, in ways only he could. and then, when it was your turn, you made sure to give him a surprise worth remembering
WARNINGS ಇ. excessive fluff, spencer reid being the most thoughtful man alive, reader being absolutely whipped, the bau being the ultimate group of enablers, and just an overwhelming amount of love A/N ಇ. my first 4 + 1 fic for spencer, and i had to make it disgustingly sweet. this man was made for the softest love. i wrote this with heart eyes the entire time. hope you love it as much as i do ‹𝟹
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 2,524
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
The first time Spencer surprised you, it wasn’t with some grand romantic gesture or an intricately thought-out plan—it was with a single sentence, delivered so casually you almost missed it.
You were at the BAU, perched on the edge of Spencer’s desk, absently flipping through a book he’d left open while he and Derek were mid-conversation about something you weren’t entirely following. The buzz of the bullpen droned around you, keys clacking, phones ringing—nothing unusual. You had half a mind to start daydreaming when you caught the tail end of Spencer’s words, his tone as effortless as if he were reciting a grocery list.
“—kind of like the 1972 edition of The Last Unicorn, you know, the one with the misprint where the dedication is in the wrong place. That’s her favorite edition. She mentioned it once, so if you ever see a copy, let me know.”
You blinked.
Your favorite edition? The one with the misprint? The edition you had rambled about once—once—over takeout months ago? The conversation had been a passing thought, a fleeting mention between bites of lo mein, something you’d figured was lost to the ether.
But no. Of course, Spencer remembered.
Derek smirked, a slow, knowing expression creeping across his face as he shifted his gaze to you. “Damn, pretty boy. You writing a dissertation on your girl or something?”
Heat surged up your neck so quickly it was a miracle you didn’t combust on the spot. “Spencer—”
“What?” Spencer blinked at you, genuinely perplexed by your reaction. “You said it was important to you. Why wouldn’t I remember?”
You opened your mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “Because I said it once. Months ago. In passing.”
He frowned, as if the very concept of forgetting something you loved was utterly foreign to him. “You love it. That makes it important.”
Your heart stumbled over itself, warmth pooling low in your stomach. You weren’t sure what to do with the way he looked at you, all soft certainty and quiet devotion, as if remembering the smallest details of your happiness was second nature to him.
Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, you’ve got it bad.”
Spencer barely acknowledged him, tilting his head at you. “Did I say something wrong?”
You exhaled a laugh, light and breathless. “No, Spence. Not at all.”
You were still flustered. Still shocked. But more than anything, you were his. And that made all the difference.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
The second time Spencer surprised you was at the carnival. The lights flickered like a thousand fireflies overhead, washing the fairgrounds in a kaleidoscope of color. Laughter and music tangled in the air, mixing with the scent of popcorn and fried dough. You were walking past a row of game booths with Penelope, your fingers wrapped around a half-melted cotton candy, when your eyes landed on it.
A stuffed bear, slightly lopsided but endearingly so, with soft brown fur and a tiny pink bow.
“Oh, that’s cute,” you said absentmindedly, taking another bite of your sugary treat.
The game itself was one of those—the kind designed to be unwinnable. A cluster of milk bottles, stacked in a pyramid, just heavy enough and just angled enough that knocking them over with a weighted ball was statistically improbable, if not impossible.
Penelope gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Sorry, sugarplum, but those are rigged to hell and back. The guy running the booth said no one’s won that all night.”
You sighed, a little disappointed but not surprised. “Figures.”
With that, you let it go, continuing forward with Penelope while Spencer lingered behind. You didn’t think much of it—he probably got distracted by something, as he often did.
It wasn’t until you were waiting in line for the Ferris wheel that you felt something tap your shoulder.
You turned, and there stood Spencer, glasses slightly askew, his cardigan sleeves pushed up, holding the stuffed bear against his chest like it was some sort of peace offering.
Your mouth parted in shock. “Spence. No.”
Spencer, looking far too pleased with himself, simply shrugged. “Yes.”
You blinked. “How—?”
“It’s all physics.” He adjusted his glasses with one hand, shifting the bear to his other arm. “The way the bottles are stacked, they create a deceptive center of gravity. Most people aim for the middle, but if you hit the base bottle at the exact right angle—”
“You’re telling me you mathed the carnival?”
“Yes.” He paused. “Technically, I scienced it.”
Penelope let out an outrageously loud gasp. “Boy Wonder, did you just hack the universe for love?”
Spencer, deadpan, said, “Would you rather I hacked it for evil?”
You didn’t respond, mostly because you were still too busy gaping at him. The keeper had said the game was impossible, and yet, here he was, holding the proof in his hands.
Spencer held the bear out toward you with a small, shy smile. “You liked it.”
You took it, warmth blooming in your chest so fast it nearly knocked you off your feet.
“Spencer Reid,” you said, voice full of wonder, “you are ridiculous.”
His expression faltered. “But in a good way?”
You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around him in a hug that nearly knocked the breath out of him.
“Yes,” you mumbled against his shoulder. “In the best way.”
And as if he hadn’t already ruined you completely, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head and murmured, “Good.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
It started as a habit you barely noticed—something instinctive, something you never really thought about. When emotions ran too high, whether in frustration, excitement, or joy, you’d slip into your native language. A muttered curse when you stubbed your toe, rapid-fire exclamations when you got good news, whispered endearments when Spencer did something particularly sweet.
And Spencer, for all his genius, would just stare at you, brow furrowed, lips pressed together in frustration.
“I hate not knowing what you’re saying,” he admitted once, after you’d spent two minutes ranting under your breath about something someone had said. “It’s like…watching the best scene in a movie, but without subtitles.”
You had laughed, ruffled his hair, and moved on.
You didn’t think he’d actually do anything about it.
But, of course, this was Spencer Reid.
It wasn’t until months later, in the middle of a particularly heated argument over whose turn it was to do laundry, that you realized something had changed.
“Spencer,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I literally did it last week, and I swear to God—”
You stopped mid-sentence, your frustration boiling over into a string of words in your native tongue, too sharp and fast for him to possibly understand.
Or so you thought.
Because instead of his usual confused frown, Spencer just…sighed. “I know, sweetheart,” he said, voice annoyingly soft. “You feel like you’re always the one keeping things in order, and it’s frustrating when I get caught up in my work and don’t notice.”
You froze.
Your brain froze.
Your soul left your body.
“Did you just—?”
Spencer shifted on his feet, shoving his hands into his cardigan pockets like he hadn’t just rocked your entire world. “I learned.”
“You learned?”
“Well, yeah.” He shrugged, like it was nothing, like he hadn’t just casually admitted to learning an entire language for you. “You use it when you’re overwhelmed. When you’re really happy. When you’re really upset. I wanted to be able to—” He hesitated, then sighed. “I wanted to understand you. All of you.”
You were reeling.
Your Spencer, the man who got overwhelmed by new foods and wore mismatched socks on purpose, had sat down and taught himself a whole language just to keep up with you.
The worst part? He wasn’t even bragging about it.
He was just looking at you with those big, earnest eyes, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Say something else,” you breathed, stepping closer, heart hammering in your chest.
Spencer’s lips quirked. He took your hand, lifted it to his lips, and murmured something in your language—something soft, warm, achingly tender.
You didn’t need a translation. You felt it.
And that was the moment you realized that if this man ever proposed, you wouldn’t even need a ring to say yes.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
The BAU wasn’t exactly known for throwing extravagant parties, but every once in a while—when the cases weren’t weighing too heavy, when the team needed to breathe—someone would organize a gathering. Tonight, it was at a cozy, dimly lit bar, where laughter hummed in the air, and glasses clinked together in celebration of nothing and everything all at once.
You were nursing a drink, swaying absently in your seat to the upbeat music thrumming through the speakers, when a hand ghosted over yours.
Spencer.
“I thought you didn’t dance,” you teased, raising a brow.
“I don’t,” he said. “Or, well—I told you I don’t.”
Before you could question him, he was tugging you to your feet, guiding you toward the makeshift dance floor in the center of the room.
“Spencer,” you laughed, trying to plant your feet. “What are you—?”
And then he spun you.
Spun you.
Not clumsily, not awkwardly—gracefully, like he’d been doing this for years, like he’d memorized the movements as easily as he memorized case files. His fingers found yours effortlessly, his other hand resting lightly on your waist, pulling you close in a way that sent warmth flooding through you.
Your breath caught.
“You lied,” you whispered, eyes wide.
Spencer had the audacity to smirk. “I omitted.”
You wanted to be annoyed—really, you did—but it was impossible when he was guiding you so effortlessly, his steps steady and sure, his touch sending sparks along your skin. The rest of the room faded, the music folding around the two of you like something made for this moment.
And then, over the music, someone yelled—loud, clear, amused.
"Put a ring on her, Reid!"
The team laughed, Penelope whooped, and Spencer—adorably, unbelievably—went scarlet.
But you?
You just smiled, pressing closer to him, because the thought had already taken root in your mind.
And if he kept surprising you like this, you had a feeling it wasn’t going anywhere.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
You should’ve known things wouldn’t go exactly to plan.
But in your defense, you did the math.
And for a while, everything was going perfectly.
The entire BAU was in on it—except Hotch, who you had strategically placed on Spencer distraction duty. You needed someone with a natural air of authority to make sure Spencer didn’t suddenly wander back early, and Hotch, bless him, had agreed with only a single, unimpressed sigh.
Now, with Spencer successfully occupied, you had an entire team of federal agents setting up the most intricate, heartfelt surprise proposal the world had ever seen.
“Derek, the ribbons don’t loop like that,” you huffed, pointing accusingly at the offensive display of tulle bows on the ceiling. “They’re supposed to be elegant and flowy, not—” you gestured wildly at the mess he’d made, “—that.”
Derek scoffed. “Princess, I think we’re getting a little dramatic over some bows.”
“You’re dramatic over football games,” you shot back. “Let me have this.”
JJ and Emily were arranging candles while Penelope fussed over the lights, making sure everything had the perfect warm, golden glow. Even Rossi was involved, setting up the champagne and shaking his head fondly at your borderline-manic attention to detail.
Everything was falling into place.
Everything was perfect.
And then, the door opened.
At first, no one reacted. You were too busy adjusting the placement of the table centerpiece to notice. But then the silence hit you—thick, unnatural, the kind that only meant something had gone terribly wrong.
And that’s when you turned.
And saw Spencer.
Standing in the doorway.
Everyone. Froze.
Your heart plummeted.
“NO, NO, NO—” You lurched forward, waving your arms as if that would physically undo the moment. “YOU CAN’T BE HERE YET! YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HERE UNTIL 7:05, I DID THE MATH. IT WOULD TAKE YOU APPROXIMATELY ONE HOUR TO GET HERE AND THREE MINUTES TO COLLECT YOUR THINGS FROM THE CA—”
Spencer blinked. “You… did math?”
“That’s not the point!”
Spencer looked around, taking in the flickering candles, the flowers, the absolute chaos of the team caught mid-action like deer in headlights.
“Hotch was supposed to distract you,” you accused, glaring at the universe itself.
Spencer shrugged. “Yeah, after about ten minutes of his ‘So, Reid, how’s work lately?’ routine, I figured I should leave him alone.”
You groaned. “Dammit.”
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You had planned this for weeks, accounted for everything, down to the minute, and yet here you were—standing in the middle of a half-finished proposal setup, Spencer staring at you like you were an anomaly he couldn’t quite solve.
But then he smiled.
Soft. Warm. Curious.
And you realized—it didn’t matter.
The plan had never mattered. Only he did.
You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Okay, well, this wasn’t supposed to go like this, but—” You turned, grabbed the velvet box from the table, and without any further hesitation, dropped to one knee.
Spencer’s breath hitched.
“Oh.”
And suddenly, words were spilling out of you, tumbling past your lips faster than your brain could catch up.
“Spencer, I have never met anyone like you,” you started, voice thick with emotion. “You remember every little thing I say, even if I say it once. You math carnivals just because I looked at a stuffed animal. You learned a whole language just to understand me better. You do all of these things not because you have to, but because that’s just who you are. You love me so much that it’s written into every detail of your life, and I—I just—”
Your voice broke.
Your vision blurred.
Tears streamed freely down your face, and you knew you were a mess—sniffling, shaking, soaked in emotions that should’ve been poetic but were just loud.
“There’s a reason girls don’t do this,” you hiccuped, rubbing at your eyes, utterly failing at keeping yourself together.
Spencer let out a soft, breathless laugh.
You swallowed, gripping the ring box so tight your knuckles went white. “But I figured you’d appreciate an unexpected variable for once.”
Silence.
A beat.
And then Spencer dropped to his knees too, hands framing your face with a reverence that made your breath stutter.
“You’re ridiculous,” he murmured, and you were about to apologize, about to start rambling again, when he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered, “And I love you so much it terrifies me.”
Your breath caught.
And then he kissed you.
Soft, deep, sure. Like an answer. Like a promise.
Somewhere in the background, you dimly registered Penelope sobbing, Derek muttering, “Damn, pretty boy really does have it bad,” and Rossi popping open the champagne with a satisfied sigh.
But none of it mattered.
"Will you marry me, Spencer Reid?"
Spencer pulled back just enough to whisper, “Yes. Of course, yes,” and you knew—down to your bones—that this was the best equation you had ever solved.
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©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work
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brookiesblurbs · 9 months ago
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ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.
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SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.
WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.
WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.
A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.
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angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.
and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.
you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.
sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.
sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.
he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.
sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.
eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.
you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.
after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.
you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.
you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.
you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.
"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.
his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.
although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.
sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.
"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.
san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.
"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.
"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.
you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.
"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.
"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.
you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.
"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.
"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./
sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.
truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.
the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.
sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.
he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.
seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.
without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.
another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.
maybe sam winchester was the devil.
your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.
"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.
sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.
sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.
with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.
that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.
"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.
heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.
"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.
sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.
you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.
"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."
sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.
sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.
he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.
"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.
"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.
it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.
"just alright? you wound me, angel."
this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.
unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"
you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.
sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.
sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.
"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.
"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.
"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.
sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.
"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.
sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.
sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.
sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.
you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.
"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.
with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."
part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.
"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.
everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.
that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.
you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.
your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.
sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.
you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.
"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.
"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.
"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.
sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.
"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."
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bleach-your-panties · 2 months ago
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level up - nerdmin x fem reader
a/n: tiktok is going off with these edits of the nerdarmin fanart with the tongue piercing (thank you @musapylsa) and I am eating it all up, so hope all other armin girlies enjoy this! 'swimming pools' is his theme song in my mind, so ofc I had to use some version of it~
c/w: alcohol, oral!fem receiving, spit, manipulative armin, slight!dub con, friends to ?
w/c: 929
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"it's been so long, since I've been on this level right here..."
+++
Armin's ocean blue eyes swam as his head lolled from side to side, a half-empty, red solo cup nearly-crumpled in his hand from how tightly he was gripping it. The ends of his golden blonde hair swayed back and forth with the fluid motions of his body that ground salaciously against yours.
You smiled seeing your best friend let loose at this random college party. Pulling him away from his small, cramped study desk had taken quite a bit of convincing, but you managed it.
Statistics could wait, after all.
The spacious living room was dark, the only light that could be seen was from the cell phone screens of other party-goers making TikToks or recording on Snapchat to garner proof that they were able to attend such an event.
DJ made a song switch and Armin perked up, but as he did so, the clear liquid inside his cup splashed over the rim and landed directly in the middle of your white lace cami.
"Oh fuck, Y/N - I'm-I'm so sorry!"
Frantically, he began to look around the darkened room, searching for where the kitchen might be before grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him in a random direction.
"Armin, wait- that's not the way to the kitchen..."
You spoke a bit sheepishly as the blonde turned to you with a look of confusion before noticing that the two of you were indeed not in a kitchen, but a bedroom.
"Oh fuck," he repeated, hands moving to muss his already messy blonde bangs as he chuckled awkwardly at his mistake, "m-my bad, I was just trying to find something to clean you up with..."
Shrugging, you glanced around the room to see that it had a small bathroom connected to it.
"There may be some towels in the bathroom..."
+++
"Damn, Y/N...you're dripping all over my face..." Armin groaned, pulling his face from between your soaked thighs and wiping it off with the sleeve of his shirt. His cock twitched in his jeans at the sight of your swollen pussy, covered in your cum mixed with his saliva.
The towel that you thought would be used to wipe you off was placed beneath your ass while the blonde licked and slurped at your pussy like he was dying of thirst.
What had started as an innocent gesture of him helping you get cleaned up turned into soft, wet kisses on your belly and the nastiest head that you'd ever received in your life.
There had always been a little sexual tension between you both, but neither of you ever acted on it. Tonight, there was something different about Armin, and it was more than just the fact that he was tipsy.
He was determined. Confident. Ravenous.
"Armin..."
Your back arched against the stark white sheets of the bed, legs dangling off the edge as Armin knelt between them. His warm hands smoothed over the length of them, then down, down and down until they were gripping your ankles.
"Ar-wait!"
Squealing as he bent you in half, you were now eye to crystal blue eye with your friend and his glossy lips coated in your slick.
"I-I thought you were drunk off your ass by the way you spilled that drink on me! You were even swaying on the dance floor...you..."
His glasses dropped to the bridge of his nose as he smirked down at you.
"Really, you thought that? That's cute..."
Soft blonde locks splayed across your exposed skin as Armin nipped and sucked at your neck, surely leaving a trail of love bites in his wake. Moaning his name in broken syllables, you brought your arms up to wrap around his back and bring him closer.
"Sorry, Y/N, but I didn't know how else to get you alone...fuck, I've been dreaming about having you like this for so long..."
His breath came out in ragged puffs as he moved his kisses across the expanse of your chest, then down to your breasts. You squealed when the head of his tongue piercing rubbed your sensitive nipple.
He flicked the cold metal repeatedly against the hard bud while has other hand squeezed the opposite breast.
"Fuuck...A-armin...please.."
Armin knew what you needed. His fingers tapped at your lips, and obediently, you opened your mouth.
He spat a clear wad of saliva on your tongue. It tasted of the liquor you'd both been sipping on, spiced and sweet.
"I'll give you what you want, baby..."
Armin may not be the most popular guy, but he knew what he wanted and how to get it.
He'd decided that he wanted you - this side of you - in all your orgasmic glory, and he'd have it if it was the last damn thing that he'd do.
Slotting his lips over yours, he sucked the saliva off your tongue and slid off of you, back between your thighs, and spat it directly on your clit.
Your body responded kindly by twitching and spreading open for him to cover the lips of your cunt with his tongue, that sinful piercing bumping your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking gently.
Now your head was spinning as if you were the one drunk while your best friend feasted on your pussy in a random bedroom.
"Y/N..?"
It was hard to focus with Armin's tongue circling your clit, but you were able to manage a small 'hmm' in response...
"Do you think we'll be able to take our relationship to the next level now?"
Shit, you sure hoped so... +++
"cause i ain't never babysittin', i be linin' up shots, imma show you how to turn it up a notch.."
+++
©bleach-your-panties 2016-2025.
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melanchoire · 4 months ago
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girl... that one karina pussy drunk drabble of yours got me thinking about how karina would be a loser/do anything in her power for her s.o. like buying whatever things she saw they liked even if its so hard to get, giving her massages or sweets when they are feeling down/having a hard day, cancelling her appointments when she can to be there with them and in the sheets, making them cum until SHE is satisfied with pleasing them
i don’t remember if i ever wrote about pussydrunk karina 😭 but here we gooo
karina is a loser EVEN in a relationship 😭
it’s a little pathetic, really... karina. i see her as that type, you know? i really do. and it’s all about you. everything she does, everything she thinks, everything is filtered through the lens of making you happy. it’s... absorbing
remember that limited edition vinyl you mentioned almost in passing? the one that sold out everywhere and sold for crazy prices on resale sites? yes, she bought it. the look on her face when she handed it to you, pure, unadulterated relief mixed with a desperate hope that you would notice the great effort she put into it. almost embarrassing, honestly. did she think you wouldn’t notice the effort and just think it was pure chance?
and the massages? god, they’re practically ritualistic. you tell her your shoulder is tense after work, and she gets to work right away. showing up at your apartment minutes later, and the second she walks through your front door she is kneading and pressing like her life depends on it. use that fancy oil she knows you like, the one that costs a fortune. it’s not just about just relieving your tension; it’s about proving her worth, showing how much she cares
it’s like a damn honeybee, constantly hovering, gathering sweets and treats whenever you seem a little down. bad day at work? here is your favorite ice cream. headache? she is giving you ibuprofen and cold compresses. it’s sweet, sure, but it’s also… suffocating
the dating thing is the craziest. she has a promising career and a busy schedule. but if you hint that you would like her around, BAM! she cancels all her previous plans, no matter what: the dentist, lunch with her boss, whatever. she will make up some elaborate lie about being sick, just to be there. and it’s not just about being there, right? it’s about what happens when she is there
service top rina 😵‍💫 completely pussydrunk... legs over her shoulders, head between your thighs and face practically buried in your pussy 🫠 somehow pleasing you makes her needy, so she always ends up eating you out in the messiest and sloppiest way possible, her face covered in your juices and moaning shamelessly against your pussy because of your taste and essence, looking up at you with a look full of desire and begging you to please let her continue her assault... even though you’re the one receiving it, she is the one who becomes needy 😭 getting desperate and starting to eat you out in a much more messy way, hugging your thighs and pushing your hips towards her face to the point where she can hardly breathe because of how much she is burying her face between your legs, but karina doesn’t care! she loves to please, her love language
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thatsherastro · 11 months ago
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Random Astro Notes Part 2: Water Sign Edition
If you are sensitive this post/ page may not be for you. These are general observations, aspects & houses matter. xoxo
Which element should I do next ? Fire , Air or Earth?
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Cancers can be so sweet. These are the type of people to make sure that you are comfortable and wake up and cook you breakfast.
Pisces venus can attract partners who are questionable , drug dealers , criminals or maybe even a little mentally unstable
Nobody does emotional manipulation like a cancer. They will make you feel bad for what they did to you.
It may seem like your scorpio placement friend is paranoid but trust them sometimes when they give you a warning. These ppl have seen some of the worst parts of life. They know how dark things can get.
Pisces Venus & mars can have a foot fetish or be completely disgusted by feet lol no in between
Scorpios are dying to tell you their business lowkey. They really just want to build that trust and security first before taking you to their underworld.
Pisces can be really charitable.
Hey, scorpio mars remember:
Sex ≠ true intimacy
Ok please don’t throw tomatoes at me just yet 😭 but some pisces can be such kleptos & please don’t let gemini be in the mix of that chart. Go ahead & hide your wallet.
Cancers tend to hold onto toxic people because of nostalgia.
Pisces hold onto toxic people because they feel pity for them and want to save them in someway shape or form
Scorpios hold on to toxic people because in a way they feel that love is pain. These people are truly dedicated to suffering because of their loyalty.
Having Pisces in the 2H can really bless you financially. It’s like you make money in your sleep but be mindful that neptune aspect gets tricky. These people will spend all of their money before they even get it. Also STOP GIVING PEOPLE YOUR MONEY!!!
Thank you for reading 🫶🏾 Like & Follow for more
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xo2dee · 5 months ago
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🗨️ KISS MY ICE
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PAIRING: Tsukumo Yuki/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Ice Skating/Figure Skater AU, Modern Day Universe, F/F Relationship, Lesbian!Reader, Rivals to Lovers, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus. WORD COUNT: 3,225. SUMMARY: At the height of your career, she was your downfall. Not that it was particularly a bad thing.
A/N: for @ayyy-pee's The Jujutsu Journal Collab Event, (that was supposed be out half a year ago but ignore that) i'd been dying to write something with yuki for a while and this event gave me the inspiration and push i needed for it. i hope you enjoy!!
JJK MASTERLIST
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Thinking about it, you were sure you could pinpoint the exact moment of your downfall.
Perhaps the red giant stamp of ‘DISQUALFIED’ on your paperwork that night at the preliminaries of the International rounds of Figure Skating signified you were at a new all-time low, but you had only been disqualified from the women’s singles competition so you still had your chance. Or maybe it was when you’d been told instead of being able to compete in the Winter Olympics as a single, you were only qualified for mixed pairs due to your insubordination as a single skater (which whatever, yeah, you still had the love of the game and all the recognition). Yeah, both of those outcomes somewhat sucked when you renowned for being at the top of your game and an inspiration to women athletes everywhere, but nothing compared to when you realized who you were being paired up with for mixed pair Winter Olympics.
Tsukumo Yuki.
Tsukumo fucking Yuki.
Quite literally the bane of your existence, and the woman of all your festering, maddening desires.
It had to be karma you thought, you both had been disqualified as single skaters due to… a night gone wrong really on both of your sides, so of course the universe would slap you two together saying you could only compete in the Olympics together if you did it as a pair. And it just had to be the person you had history within the form of your faces plastered all over news sites and gossip blogs that caused both of your disqualifications and the reason you held some sort of grudge over the woman. A grudge and a crush, you groaned internally, remembering the headlines and picture that had almost plummeted your skating career.  
It was New Years Eve, and a party at the famous idol Iori Utahime’s place was where you had both been that night. You and Yuki knew each other before of course, it came with competing against one another in the same sport, and when there was two girls opposing each other there was bound to be a rivalry born between the two. A rivalry with some sort of sexual tension in-between since every time you seen the woman you either felt like shoving her into the nearest wall and/or making out with her in the process and given the way she looked at you at times you wondered if she felt the same. And of course, it was like everyone said, drunk words were sober thoughts.
She was drunk, you were drunk, and your feelings seemed to get in the way after you moped to her about scores and then next thing you knew you two were breast to breast kissing each other. You could still taste her – strawberry flavored lip gloss painted on those lips as she ran her tongue along your bottom lip, your own chasing the phantom sensation as you recalled the endorphins a mere kiss sent you into. You were too inebriated to notice the flash of multiple phone cameras, but not too intoxicated to remember the way her mouth felt against yours and how bad you wanted her.
After you two split ways at the party, and then the next morning you were getting phone calls and text messages from your manager and PR team full of Twitter links and websites to blogs with that fucking picture of you and Yuki lip locked and completely ignorant of the world around you both. After that, it was all either a bunch of grown ass men sitting on their couches calling for yours and Yuki’s disqualification on Twitter, or it was people making edits of you and Yuki together and even coming up with a ship name for you both – like you were just people for their entertainment. And it was completely quiet from you or Yuki contacting each other at all.
(Until you got paired together, and you had to fight the urge to tackle her for another hot kiss every time you both practiced your lifts and jumps together.)
It left you feeling… hollow, but also pretty fucking annoyed because who kissed someone like that with so much passion and then ghosted them? It was whatever, and you stayed off of Instagram, Tik Tok, and Twitter from the advice of your PR team until you got word of your qualification in the mixed pairs competition. It was like a sick joke; first they condemned you for kissing her, and then they were shoving you together in a rather intimate and graceful routine in such a beautiful sport… Yeah, you supposed there and then you were at your downfall.
And that left you where you were at that moment, tying your skates on securely in the locker room as you prepared yourself for your upcoming show and probably quelling any insane need to kiss Yuki if you both got an outstanding score. Because regardless of your feelings, you both were amazing skaters.
You tapped your heel onto the floor, the blade of your skate clicking as you tested out its overall sharpness the moment Yuki entered the room. You hummed underneath your breath as you sat on the bench while trying to discreetly ogle her without her noticing, noting the sleek black outfit with sequined sides did absolute wonders for her legs. She was one of the few that liked to wear outfits with pants, and you’d only see her skate a few times in the skirts, but in your pair Yuki was the one lifting you she assumed a more covered form while you got to show of your legs in the white ensemble for the routine you two picked.
The smile she graced you with made you bite your cheek, her form coming to sit down next to you as you switched to breathing through your mouth to avoid her sweet perfume. “You nervous?” Yuki asked after a moment, letting you watch a lock of her hair slide off of her shoulder and close enough to touch your own.
Nervous was an understatement, yet you were not nervous thinking you two would do bad, more you were nervous being alone with Yuki.
You blew out a long breath, straightening your legs as you looked at your feet rather than her eyes, “I wouldn’t call it that.”
“Oh?” her head tilted in your peripheral vision, “And what would you call it?”
Sexual attraction. “Stress, maybe. Or embarrassment could work too,” you lied through your teeth, and perhaps the only time you had lied to her in your life. Even that day she walked up to you and asked you what was your type in men was you had straight up told her you weren’t attracted to men at all. The surprise on her face was palpable, but you wouldn’t ever forget the way Yuki’s eyes lit up and a slow smile spread across her face.
She hummed low in her throat, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned into the lockers behind her, “C’mon, what’s too be embarrassed about?’
“You don’t see what they say about us?” you grumbled, not like it necessarily bothered you, but more you couldn’t stand one kiss being attached to your name constantly.
Yuki laughed, “Who cares? What we did isn’t any of their business, and if anything else happened it still wouldn’t be their business.” She said it all so nonchalantly there was no reason you didn’t believe her, however, some of her words struck a chord inside of you. More of the carnal desire than anything else.
“’If anything else happened’?” you parroted back to her, finally turning your head towards her and meeting her eye for eye, “What? You think one kiss proves anything?”
A slow smile spread across her face, the glint of her lip-gloss making you lose focus for a moment to stare at her lips before you met her eyes again. “Of course not, I think it was a start though.”
“A start to what? The new and improved version of Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding?” A snort left your chest at the thought because no matter the rivalry you’d never find it in you to wish ill upon Yuki. Quite the opposite actually.
A sigh tickled your ears, Yuki’s body scooting close enough so that you were hip to hip and thigh to thigh with each other, “Y’know what I think? I think that’s not all that’s bothering you,” she paused to assess your body language and seeing no apprehension within you she continued with a sad smile, “I wanna ask you something.”
A million things ran through your mind at that moment, ranging from whatever she could possibly ask you or if she was going to tell you that she no longer wanted to compete any longer and dropped out last minute. However, regardless of the oncoming doom your brain was festering out of paranoia you couldn’t not hear her out. Though you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak, nodding to her in fear you’d make a fool and stutter instead.
She blinked slowly, and you watched her pupil dilate when she reopened her eyes to look at you, “All those… moments between us, and I know that you know what I’m talking about…” Yuki’s gaze softened, and her fingers curled into her palms, “Did they mean something to you?”
You knew what she was talking about. All those moments between you two at practices, the way her hands rested on your waist (and how good it felt for your touch-starved soul), how she lifted you and put you down with so much gentleness you couldn’t help but think she harbored some softness for you, or maybe in your shared hotel room just the night before when you took turns nursing a bottle Vodka to help get rid of those nerves for the competition. You could remember the melodious octave of her laugh when you almost busted your ass trying to get the bathroom the night before, and when you’d been drunkenly trying out a Lutz jump without any momentum or ice.
There wasn’t anything denying how well you two could bounce off of each other, but more your pride getting in the way of allowing yourself some flexibility.
You swallowed, trying your best not to let your emotions show on your face, “The company of a new friendship? Maybe…” you lied, and even as you said it you watched the recognition flit across her face.
“That’s not what I meant.” A soft laugh made your face burn, your knees knocking together as you fought off the chills it brought. “I think I should apologize actually; all the mixed signals and teasing I did, I was only trying to see if all that attitude was hiding something else.”
Your face must’ve taken on an insane expression, Yuki’s laugh bouncing off the walls at your reaction to her confession as you tried to remain as nonchalant as possible, “So you were testing me?”
“I mean, there’s a reason why I didn’t listen to my publicist.” You felt her shrug, and your heart skyrocketed. “I don’t think I can stand staying away from you too long, almost like I’m obsessed with you really. I stopped seeing you as just my opponent a long time ago too.” Yuki’s voice had taken on a lower tone, like honey dripping into your body and your muscles molding into mush the more she spoke to you like in your ears and kept giving confession after confession.
Your heartbeat was a drumming in your head, your own blood rushing loud enough you were able to hear it with your own ears, and the nerves in your body suddenly lit ablaze when you realized the gravity of her words. Every parasitic worm in your body that screamed for the touch of Tsukumo Yuki awoke and your soul screamed for the woman so close to you. And it must’ve shown on your face as she smiled and her eyes shot down straight to gaze at your mouth.
“Y’know,” Yuki drawled out slowly, an unmistakable deepening in her voice that shot straight into your lower abdomen, “if you want something, you should go ahead and take it…”
The invitation in her eyes was loud and clear, and the way she leant back into the lockers behind her and legs opened for you. You wasted zero time at the sultry look within her eyes, practically launching yourself forward onto her mouth as she laughed before your lips met. The kiss didn’t feel as sweet as the one that night on New Year’s Eve, but she tasted all the same to you. That time you both were all teeth clacking against each other, saliva intermingling with your tongues, and nails finding themselves into part of each other that you could reach. You supposed the syrupiness of Yuki’s taste was the foundation of your attraction to her, and the near animalistic way you two went at each other was the core of it all.
But whatever it was, you decided then and there you would never be able to get enough.
Yuki lips broke away from yours with a ‘smack!’, pushing you away as she dropped to her knees onto the floor in front of you, “Let me taste you.”
You held zero objections, carefully swinging both legs over her shoulders as you hurriedly fought to get your leotard off and down enough so that her mouth could find you. The kisses and bites on your thighs you knew you’d have to cover up in some sort of way, but you didn’t care for the moment, not when her lips and tongue seated themselves along where you yearned for her most and your eyes immediately rolled in the back of your head with a loud, keening moan following after.
Yet, a manicured hand covered your mouth with two of her fingers slipping in to keep you busy as you felt her laugh against your pussy. You got the message clear: You didn’t need the media finding you both in an even worse position. However, you were eager enough to slide your tongue along her fingers, moaning and sighing against her hand as her tongue swirled atop your clit and your head banged against the lockers behind you. You were careful enough not to slice her with the blades on your skates, keeping your hands curled into the bench you sat on to not fuck up her hair as you began to jerk your hips into her face in tune with how her mouth moved.
Your brain was slowly turning into goo then, only thinking of how fucking good it felt to have her tongue-deep in your pussy. Your neck rolled around as you nearly felt like denting the bench in your hands when the weight in your lower abdomen grew larger and harder, with your thighs beginning to shake once more when her nose rubbed along your sensitive clit.
Your bones were turning soft and moans growing louder as Yuki’s enthusiasm grew tenfold as her hold on your hips doubled down to almost bruising and you started to hear her breathing become labor. She was enjoying just as much as you were, and the thought sent a solid curl downwards to where your anticipated release grew in wave tides.
Already, you were close
The sinful lips that been mouthing away at the entirety of your cunt broke off once more taking her tongue with as you heard a deep, harsh breath and a low ‘Mmm’, before her mouth was latching back onto your clit to suck at it once again. Your back arched deeper then, mouth parting in a soundless wail as your hands left the bench to grip her shoulders. Your nails dug into her leotard, letting you hear a moan vibrate against your pussy, her ministrations nowhere near letting up as she continued you pull down into the paradise that was bliss personified with only her skilled mouth.
You could hear the noises of your drenched cunt then, the squelching growing louder as you rocked onto her face faster. Yuki didn’t seem mind just how much of your juices were pouring out of you, lapping them up like a woman starved and not even caring if it was messing up any of the show makeup on her face. You pulled your legs closer to you, in return forcing her face more into you as you wondered if you were practically beginning to face-fuck her as your grinding increased the longer she was eating you out.
Your head rose as your chest heaved and you took a peek at just what lied in between your thighs. But of course, the woman of your dreams that laid there had felt you move and her eyes were already straight onto yours as she sent another harsh suck at your clit. Watching her suck at your clit was one thing, however, her dark intense eyes already peering into yours when you looked up for just a glance sent something completely mind-blowing straight into your entire soul.
You fell back, your eyes rolling back into your head as the dam inside of you was at its breach.
It’s right there, there, ther – Fuck!
Your hips rolled faster, harder.
Yuki’s lips pulled and sucked faster, harder.
Your mind was only on Yuki as your back arched in a near horrifying backbend and your fingers knotted into her outfit more. Another moan vibrated your entire cunt and your legs constricted more as they began to roughly shake with another pornographic moan falling out your mouth she quickly covered up. The pressure in you was too large to ignore then, spine tightening as you sought relief for it and when Yuki’s lips pulled off your clit and her entire mouth was back on your cunt with her tongue pressing back into and her nose pushing in the absolute most direct, right way on your clit –
The stretching sensation inside of you snapped, and you were gone.
Thankfully Yuki was smart enough to cover your mouth the moment you two got busy, because you were sure from how loud you were with your mouth muffled security would be busting down the damn door thinking the worst from your moaning (or something entirely different). You could practically feel yourself jerking and squirming as the orgasmic bliss slowly began wane out of you and left your cunt and clit throbbing in the aftershocks of it. As your muscles relaxed and you tried to slow your heaving breath down, Yuki coaxed you through the burst of your release, her tongue lapping away at you and gently licking to bring you down from that powerful high. 
It was a few moments before you blinked into clarity and your back fell back down as did your hips, heart loud in your ears and thumping against your ribs, as you realized what you had done. “Oh shit.” You were never going to get Tsukumo fucking Yuki out of your mind.
Yuki pulled away with a smug grin, nails digging into your thighs as she tugged you further down and onto her mouth with a mumble, “We got at least ten more minutes. Besides, you said you were stressed.”
Then and there, you decided Tsukumo Yuki was your downfall.
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tea-cat-arts · 1 year ago
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Ranking mxtx couples by whether or not I think they'd be good parents
(I'm 90% sure I'm forgetting someone)
Yep, next question (S)-
Wangxian: tried and tested good dads. I wish them luck with the whole “trying to get wwx pregnant” thing 
They have some shit to work through, but after that I think they'd be fine (A)-
Ling Wen/ Bai Jin: if we're just going off the original publication, I would put them in a much lower tier, but since the revised edition added that thing about them raising orphans together and said orphans turning out alright before unfortunate circumstances, I'm putting them up here. I think they'll be alright once they work through the miscommunication
Xiao Xingchen/ Song Lan: They obviously have a lot of trauma they're working through, but I'd like to think they and A-Qing will be a loving family in the long run 
One of them would be a good parent, the other wouldn't be a bad parent (B)-
Jiang Yanli/ Jin Zixuan: there's no canon reason for me putting them this low. Jin Zixuan just gives off a mediocre parent vibe to me (and we all know Jiang Yanli is the best)
Yushipei: Yushi Huang has good mom energy, and Pei Ming has been shown to be a not terrible mentor. I'd want the misogyny fully beaten out of him with a mace before I'd think he should have kids of his own though 
Lang Qianqiu/ Little Guy: at the very least, they're making sure Guzi is fed, clothed, washed, vaccinated, and has access to education. Neither of them know what they're doing, but I think Little Guy is good at faking it. I wish them luck in their upcoming custody battle  
You know what, surprise me/ I'll hear you out (C)-
Bingqiu: My first instinct is “no, do not bring kids into this,” but then I remembered tharnShen Qingqiu has a surprisingly decent track record? Like, Ning Yingying and Ming Fan both turned out a lot more health than they did in the original novel, and though I wouldn't call him in a good place, Binghe is doing a lot better than Bingge. The wild card for me here is Luo Binghe because I have no idea how he'd be with kids
Quanyin: Yin Yu had a decent track record until he was pushed into snapping. I think rn, he needs a couple centuries of being a babygirl before he's ready to parent again. No idea how Quan Yizhen would do though 
Born to “dual income, no kids, rich uncles/aunts” (D)-
Fengqing: Feng Xin is canonically a bad dad. I know he's working on it, but it is what it is. Mu Qing has been shown to be decent with kids, but I think he’d have a melt down if he had to deal with the mess constantly. 
Hualian: I mean, Xie Lian has raised three kids at this point and one of them became a god, another became state preceptor and then sorta complicit in a genocide, and one became god AND committed genocide + he babysat a ghost king for months and didn't even realize that's what he was because it was a miracle if he remembered to feed him… so, a mixed bag. Hua Cheng may be schrodinger’s child hater, but I'm intrigued by the idea of him raising kids just because I want to know how his own childhood would influence his parenting abilities. They should probably just stick to babysitting for now though 
Mingling: Liu Mingyan is too busy writing gay porn to be dealing with kids, and I just can't imagine Sha Hualing as a mom
Please don't bring a kid into this mess (F)-
Beefleaf: Do I need to explain this one?
Mobeishang: Shang Qinghua should not be put in any position where he has to teach someone about consent (Binghe’s early attempts at flirting being a prime example of why that's a bad idea). I also think Mobei Jun is still working on the whole “why hitting people is not cool” thing. 
QiJiu: I think the original timeline is a prime example of how they're just not in a place to be raising kids 
Jun Wu/ Mei Nianqing: Xie Lian would like a refund on his adopted father figures. They had one kid and he only made it to age 20 because he was cursed to not die
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miley1442111 · 1 year ago
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needing you- r.cameron
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a/n: saw an edit of him today and decided i had to write something for him. the buzzcut is just too good, i might do a part two if I'm bothered....
summary: rafe makes some awful choices, stemming from his need for you during a hard day.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: hurt/ angst, breaking up, fighting, shouting, mentions of rafe's addictions, mentions of al-anon, mentions of break downs and bad mental health in general, kissing, no happy ending :(
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Rafe was pissed, rightfully so. He was so angry, and he knew he shouldn’t talk to you, not even be near to you, but he had nowhere else to go. Surely his girlfriend would welcome him with open arms, right?
Wrong.
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He knocked on the front door of your house, only to be met with the confused face of your father.
“She went out on the water with some friends, she left her phone at home, sorry.”
It’s fine. He would just have to wait to see you. He thanked your father and set on his way to John B’s place, waiting out by the dock for you to come back. He would just have to wait the 4 long hours it took for you to get back to land. See, you were a mix of a kook and a pogue, but most of the time, leaned towards full-pogue. This was something Rafe usually admired, considering you took no shit from him, or anyone else, and you didn’t let anyone put you down for your friends and how you presented yourself. What he hated right now though, was the fact that Jj Maybank’s arm was resting firmly on your shoulder, as you 5 came back from your strenuous day of swimming and leisurely fun. Strike one before Rafe lost his shit. 
“Rafe,” Kiera scoffed. “Y/n, your man-child boyfriend is here!” She shouted back to you. Strike two, before Rafe lost his shit.  You nodded, but made no attempt to come up to him, still entirely engrossed in Jj’s story. You two were best friends, you knew everything about each other- don’t be a jealous asshole Rafe. He reminded himself as he bit his nails, waiting for you to come over. He watched as your face lit up with a beautiful smile as Jj’s story concluded, in a very ridiculous manner. Rafe didn’t make you laugh like that. He couldn’t, he wasn’t funny. He knew he wasn’t funny. Should he try to be more funny? 
Jj pressed a kiss to your cheek and waved you off as you walked over to Rafe. Strike motherfucking three. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. His skin was hot and tanned, more than usual. 
“Were you waiting long?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“4 hours,” he punctuated every syllable. Your face fell, he was pissed, and he was trying to hide it. 
“Did we have a hangout scheduled? I’m so sorry baby,” you apologised immediately, and Rafe almost felt like pretending it wasn’t true, but he just nodded. 
“No, we didn’t,” he swallowed harshly, taking your hand and leading you to his truck.
Your face turned to confusion. “So what’s this about then? Why did you wait for 4 hours?”
“Because I needed to see you,” he explained as tears welled up in his eyes. Rafe Cameron was not a man for emotions in public, even around his most trusted confidants. But he trusted you implicitly and knew you’d never tell a single soul about his emotions, so he showed them around you.
Today, in all honesty, had been awful for him. The second he woke up, rose was screaming at him for something he didn’t do, something about his dirtbike making a mess on the lawn (he hadn’t used his dirtbike in months, not since you said you’d rather walk home than go on it, since it makes you slightly nervous), then he got in a fight with Ward over him ‘not spending enough time working for the company’, which sent him into a spiral, and resisting his urges to just go get high and drunk and forget all about it were even more difficult to manage than usual. 
It was shit. And he needed you. 
You stopped walking and pulled him into you, noticing the wobble in his voice as he spoke. “What’s wrong baby?”
“Nothing is fucking wrong,” he groaned, wiping his face. “Well, apart from the fact that my girlfriend was too busy with her fucking pogue 'boyfriend' to be around today! Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re never there for me?! Or maybe I just fucking hate you!” 
You stood and stared at him in shock. “If you hate me so much, just break up with me,” you sighed, your own tears welling up as you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at the ground as the moonlight lit this awful moment. 
Every night when you’d sneak out just because Rafe needed you there to talk to and hold him, to be there for him, it all meant nothing. Every time you left your friends, or family, just so you could calm him down because he was having a panic attack, or bad cravings. Every time you pushed him to go to the Al-Anon meeting and picked him up after, then held him as he cried in your arms in the car, whispering about how he ‘didn’t deserve you’. 
Where was that boy now?
He was in front of you, screaming in your face. 
“Maybe I am!” He shouted. “Yeah, we’re done!” 
You wiped a tear away and sighed. “Alright,” walking back to John B’s to be with your friends. 
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It all hit Rafe the next morning. He had broken up with you. You were out of his life. You weren’t his girlfriend anymore. 
What the fuck had he done?
He dialled your number, only to get no response. He checked your house, John B’s house, your work, your school (even though it was a Saturday), and even decided to check Jj’s house, just in case. 
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Knock, knock, knock.
Jj opened the door to see a very flustered and surprisingly distraught Rafe. 
“Hello?-” 
“Is she here?” he asked. “Y/n, is she here?”
“Yeah,” Jj shrugged. “But she doesn’t really want any visitors right now, y’know. The girl needs her beauty sleep.”
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“I need my beauty sleep Rafe,” you chuckled as his hands roamed your body. God, you were so perfect right here. Here, in his bed, his bed sheet draped over you, the sunset spilling in from the window. You were so perfect, so beautiful in that moment. He’d wanted to make it a memory he’d never forget. 
“You’re beautiful all the time,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone, just to feel the goosebumps start to form.
“When I get the proper amount of sleep,” you corrected him, humour lacing your words. 
“Nah,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You look beautiful all the time, trust me, I’m an expert.”
“In beauty?”
“In you.”
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“Please just let me talk to her-”
“No can-do bucko,” Jj smirked. “She’s busy sleeping, don’t want to wake the beast.”
“Jj, I swear to fucking god-”
“Don’t talk to him like that,” you sighed from behind the door. “Jj doesn’t deserve that.”
“Thank you sweetheart,” Jj smiled. Sweetheart. Rafe had always hated that Jj called you sweetheart. 
“Can we talk?” Rafe cleared his throat. 
“Sure.”
And there you were, looking as gorgeous as ever, still in pyjamas, but still flipping his entire world on its head. 
“I’ll leave you to it,” Jj sighed and pottered off back into the house. 
There was silence for a few minutes. 
“What do you want?” you huffed. 
Rafe didn’t exactly have an answer for that.
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obx masterlist :) <- part two :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
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acatnamedpusheen · 5 months ago
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Two of Hearts (Declan x Reader)
Pairing: Declan x fem!reader
Word count: 7K (I've never written anything this long brace yourselves)
Genre: Mutual pining, enemies to lovers kinda vibes, smut in the end(that was the whole point), hella cliche
Warnings: Some bad words here and there, sexual themes obviously, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (I should be locked away), english not being my first language, me rarely using a full stop
Summary: You and Declan are sent on a trip to Como in Italy to attend an award ceremony. After a series of events you end up revealing your feelings for each other.
A/N: I totally did not get this idea as soon as I read that Aidan got secretly married to Caitlin in Italy (somebody lobotomise me). I should mention that I'm not following the timeline of the series, I mixed things up, good luck with that. Also play along with me and pretend it's normal for the british tv awards to be taking place in Italy, alright? This fic took an unnecessary long amount of time during which I was hopelessly sitting in front of a blank white screen with a blinking cursor every single day for 2 weeks. It took every bit of sanity left in me, I was contantly going between "this is so good" and "this is the crappiest shit to ever be written" . Still leaning towards that secong option but, I shall end my yapping here and let you read.
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"You're going to Italy with Declan next week." Tony Baddingham casually told you after calling you to his office.
"What? Why?!" there was nothing in Tony's expression that indicated there was any space for negotiation or a way out of this, but these questions involuntarily came out your mouth with a clear protesting tone.
"British Television Awards, special edition taking place in Como this year. Declan has won an award and I can't send him alone, there needs to be some sort of representation from Corinium. And before you open that pretty little mouth of yours again, neither me nor Cameron can go because there are some issues that need to be settled, regarding the next season of Four Men Went To Mow." Tony finished that last sentence with a roll of his eyes. He obviously would have preferred a nice trip to Italy and a chance to show off his power and success infront of all the other producers and station owners that would be attending. Four Men Went To Mow was all Corinium had without Declan, so he had to make sure everything was arranged for its next season.
"I see..." you slowly nodded with a smile that wasn't really hiding your annoyance and turned around to exit Tony's office, barely catching a glimpse of him winking at you with that smug face of his before ligthing a cigar.
You've been working with Tony for a long time at Corinium, you were used to his 'manners' and how much of an authoritarian he was. That didn't mean he wasn't driving you mad, you just had found your ways of putting up with him. That had changed, however, when Declan O'Hara, the ruthless, irish journalist joined Corinum's picture. You had been assinged as his personal assistant, much to his dismay because, like he'd said: 'he does his own research'. Nevertheless, he did need someone to keep him a bit organised and Tony insisted you reported to him about any ongoing research because Declan tended to get quite uncooporative at times. So now, not only did you have to put up with a dictator of a boss, but also this arrogant, excessively proud workaholic you were supposed to be 'assisting'.
"What's wrong?" Declan asked upon seeing you storming in his office after exiting Tony's.
"Nothing." you tried to sound unbothered as you reached for some papers in hopes of distracting yourself. It wasn't really working.
"Oh I know better than to believe a woman answering this question with 'nothing' while she's looking clearly bothered by something." he replied with an amused tone while crossing his arms, accent thick and textured like crystallized honey, making you huff in annoyance.
"Did you know Tony is sending us to Italy next week?" you turned to him.
"Yes, somebody has to go and get that award. And see the look on the faces of all these idiots that never appreciated me." that smirk on Declan's lips was doing things to you. Things you were sure would send you straight to hell if one was to know of them.
"It doesn't sound like you really need me in any of this, though. Or do you think the award will be a bit too heavy for you to hold it all by yourself?" it was your turn to sound smug and the subtle laugh you earned from Declan felt like a reward.
"It's better for the station's image to not just send me there alone and I'm sure Tony explained how he can't send anyone else right now. Besides..." he paused and took a few steps until he was directly in front of you. "I want you there." he locked eyes with you causing your gaze to quickly shift to some other spot around you. "You're part of this show, you worked for this award too." your eyes met his again and you could really see sincerity in them. It felt like this was the first time he was genuinely recognising your work. Always too proud to let a single compliment about your contribution slip past his lips. Was he resorting to simple flattery for the purpose of the trip, you wondered.
"Could you at least tell me you'll be a bit less of a pain in the arse during those 3 days that we're going to be there?" it wasn't unusual for you to express how irritating Declan could get every now and then and you were sure not giving in to any potential tricks of his just yet.
"You know I can never promise such thing, sweetheart." there came that sinful smirk again as he patted the side of your arm before taking a step back and walking to exit the room.
There was no denying you had caught feelings for Declan over time, but you kept trying to find a way to persuade yourself that it was just a stupid phase. None of this was right. He was technically your boss, married even though his wife had just left him, with 3 children and quite older than you. You never had a chance with him and you never even should. You had it all under control up until then, partially hiding behind you constantly being cross with him. But only god knew how you kept longing to feel his toned back and shoulders under your touch, or taste his lips on yours. No, this was so wrong and just a phase, you constantly lied to yourself. A business trip with just the two of you alone, however, could easily reveal the truth and that was the actual reason why it was making you so nervous. As much as you'd wanted to let Declan know how you felt instead of letting it eat you away you dreaded the possibility of making things awkward between the two of you.
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"You don't mind me sleeping through the entire ride, do you?" you were up on basically no sleep at an ungodly hour in the morning before the sun was even up, for a 2 hour drive to London to catch your flight to Milan. From there you'd be taking the train to Como for about an hour. 'Why did the British Television Awards had to take place in Italy?!' you kept thinking to yourself, your eyes barely able to stay open and then remembered Tony babbling something about it being a special anniversary edition or whatever this year.
"Of course not, but don't expect me to not do the same as soon as we're on that plane." Declan chuckled softly. He was relieved that the circumstances of your trip were such, that allowed, required even, either one or both of you to doze off during most times. He didn't want to make it awkward between the two of you now that you weren't sitting together for work. And he hated to admit it, but he was glad you'd be sleeping while he was driving, because he could easily steal glances at you without getting caught. He liked you, there was no denying that he did, but this felt so new to him and he feared it all might just be some sort of weird reaction to the fact that Maud had left him, sinking in. All these years married and he'd never even thought about looking at another woman, the way his wife did at another man. But now you had come in the picture and Maud had made her exit and it felt so different. You were different, you intrigued him, excited him. The way you carried yourself, the way you opposed him. It wasn't in the way Maud did, because she never liked him for what he truly was, she just wanted attention, whereas you understood Declan. Your 'insults' were innocent, just there to remind him when he was crossing the line and he knew that. What he didn't know was if there was any chance you saw him the way he saw you.
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"Just a quick question, what do you find more appaling in this situation, me or Italy?" he turned to you with a playfull tone after you'd found your seats on the plane.
"You of course." you joked causing both of you to laugh. "Don't mind me, really, it was just the way Tony announced it, nothing else." you assured him before going back to whatever book you had picked to keep you distracted, surprised that for once you were thankful for Tony's actions upon realising that he'd booked business class seats, which granted space in-between you two. There was no way you could stay sane with Declan being any closer to you than he already was.
The remaining part of this long trip continued in equal silence. You'd only exchanged a few words on how magnificent the green scenery that occupied hundreds of kilometers outside the train window was, or on some new information about whatever research was currently in progress for the next show. And after what seemed like an eternity, in the late afternoon, you had finally arrived at the hotel you'd be staying for the next 2 days.
"Would you like to join me for dinner later? I'm sure we can find a nice restaurant nearby." his all too familiar voice stopped you before you opened the door to your room right next to his. Oh how he wished he could openly ask you out, reveal his true feelings for you, now that you were away from all the familiar faces. Instead he had to make do with this question and hopes you'd accept. 
"I don't think Declan O'Hara, almost officially divorced, should be spotted having dinner with his assistant alone in some restaurant in Como, don't you think?" as much as you wanted this, you had to put your reputations above it. You might be away from the closed society of Rutshire, but Declan was still somewhat of a public figure and was expected to be here for the awards. You couldn't afford seeing your names on the front pages of tabloids, or be the one having to deal with Tony's rage if that were to happen. He gave you this job because he knew you were the one who could stop Declan from acting on impulse and that's what you were determined to do. Besides, it helped keep your irrational thoughts at bay too. "You can go alone on this, I'll probably just order room service, I'm quite tired anyway."
"Then, I'll order room service too and we can sit on my balcony. I've been told the view is exquisite." he saw you preparing to protest and was quick to continue "Come on, love, we can't act like total strangers until we get back. You got dragged here because of me, let me try to at least make it even a bit enjoyable." 
Hearing the nickname 'love' fall from his lips had your knees feeling weak. He called you things like 'love', 'darling' or 'sweatheart' every so often and it was the way he seemed to use these words so naturally with you that had you melting. "Only because you're asking me so nicely." your expression softened. "Anything along the lines of meat, salad or pasta would be perfect. But make sure there's wine." because not in a million years could you handle dinner with Declan sober. "And I'll be over in a minute." were your last words as you dissapeared behind your door leaving Declan in the hallway, before he had a chance to say another word. 
Alone in your room, you couldn't help the shy smile that found its way to your lips as you let out a deep breath. You had to compose yourself, it was just dinner on a business trip.  Declan seemed to mirror you with one of his signature smirks at the thought of getting to spent some private time with you outside the context of work. Last time he had gotten anything close to that was months ago at the NYE party at his house, where practically the whole of Rutshire was invited and he couldn't recall saying anything more to you than a 'hello' , 'happy new year' and 'goodbye". Did he even see you when you left? He couldn't say for sure. Of course there where times when he was tempted to invite you over to the priory. To have you finishing up work at his study and things escalating to... well, other things, but he knew how irresponsible that was, with Taggie and Maud potentially a few walls away. How it would probably make you believe he was a pervert.
"So, ready for the big day tomorrow?" you asked in an attempt to keep some sort of conversation going and avoid the thick awkward silence that kept threatening to fall. Your eyes followed the red wine in the glass you were placing back down on the table, as the sun was setting behind the green mountains surrounding the lake, painting it in hues of orange. The early September breeze setting the perfect temperature for open-air dining. If anyone were to see you and Declan sitting on that balcony, they would, without a doubt, assume  you were a couple sharing a romantic dinner quite possibly on their honeymoon too. But the truth was far from anyone's assumptions.
"There isn't much to be prepared for anyway." Declan said nonchalantly before taking another bite off his plate. 
"Well, do you know what you are going to say? Won't you get nervous in front of all these people?" your eyes met with his.
"I'll tell them how pleased and thankful I am for the award, I won't forget to mention Corinium and I think I'll be just fine." seeing you nod, he proceeded to add the one thing that was actually making him nervous "And I want you up there with me." his doe eyes had yours widening in surprise. 
"What, me? Why?" as much as you were surprised there was no doubt you found this quite flattering.
"Because, like I've told you before, this award belongs to you too and you didn't come all this way just to sit there and watch me take all the credit, did you?" was he compromising his image by choosing to have you on stage with him so soon after his wife had left him? He didn't care. Besides, you were representing Corinium and your contribution to his show was undeniable.
"Who am I to say no to you, I guess?" two glasses of wine in and rather tired, you smiled in defeat. If only you could stop resisting him in other ways too. Him taking you right on that balcony for any prying eyes to see that he was yours, would have been a true delight. It was moments like this, that you realised you were capable of surprising your own self with such wild thoughts. Luckily, they where soon cut short by the one man conquering them.
"Speaking of which, I have something else I've been meaning to tell you." he was hesitant. Why? Had he spoken to Tony about firing you? That would explain why he kept mentioning how much he appreciated your work. "I want to leave Corinium and bid for the franchise with a team of my own." you didn't say anything, unsure of what that meant for you and your job. "I was hoping you'd be part of it." he chose his next words carefully.
"Y-you're asking me to go against Tony and risk losing my job and any chance of even getting another one?" your blood run cold just thinking about such thing.
"I'm asking you, to help me go against Tony and possibly make televison history. I've got Rupert Campbell-Black on this, we stand a great chance if we work smart." he kept his voice low, forearms on the table as he leaned in closer giving you a stern look. He was definitely serious about this.
"A 'possibly' and 'a great chance' are not enough for me to put my future at stake. If Tony finds out I helped you out with this and then your little venture fails, I'm done. He will make sure I never find a job again, ever." you stressed that last word. Getting fired suddenly sounded a lot less terrifying than Declan's proposal. 
"Why do you always have to bend to his will? Can't you see this is your chance to finally leave that bastard?" he raised his voice and huffed in annoyance, unable to undertsand your obsession with being so loyal to Tony.
"Because, that bastard is the one giving me this job which is mainly to deter you from making stupid decisions and keep things running smoothly." you fired back.
"Sounds more like your job is to do anything he asks you to, to keep him pleased. I wouldn't be surprised if he had you bent over his desk every other night." as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. The pain in your eyes violently brought him back to his senses. He should have never said that, but the thought of that brute having his way with you just for fun was torturing his mind. He wanted to take you as far away from him as possible, he loved you too much to let you stay working for Tony. He needed you for himself.
"Do you really think so low of me?" your voice was barely above a whisper, your brows knitted together in dissapointment. The sun was now long gone behind the peaks, there was no color reflected on the water anymore and the air suddenly felt sharp and cold, perfectly matching Declan's words.
Ηe struggled to form his next sentence. The man who had each and every one of his show guests at his fingertips, who knew how to speak his way through any situation, sat defeated before his most trusted colleague.
"No, look, I'm sor-"
"You know, if this has anything to do with Maud leaving and you feeling the need to take it out on somebody else, I can try to understand but by no means accept it." with firm hands on the table, you pushed your chair back and stood up, ignoring Declan's useless efforts to apologize.
"I'll see you tomorrow for the ceremony. I'll be ready by 5. Good night." with a final glance at him you made your exit. All this time you'd been working together and it seemed like this was the very first moment he'd witnessed genuine hurt and anger taking over you. He sat there, unable to move an inch but instictively reaching for a cigarette, taking it between his lips and lighting it with slightly shaking hands. Why couldn't he separate his TV persona from his real self and refrain from dissecting people just to feel something? Why couldn't he stop hurting the people he loved and cared for?
-
Your reflection in the vanity mirror opposite the room's bed had begun turning into something unfamiliar after you'd zoned out for the umpteenth time while getting ready.
The walk you'd taken earlier by lake Como, had helped you clear your mind a great lot. You had found yourself unable to get enough of the breathtaking view that stood before you. A vast body of water so calm and still the entire sky was mirrored on it and on its edges, like antexifes, beautiful houses in vibrant colors, all engulfed by the rich green, imposing mountains in the backround. This place felt as if it didn't belong to earth, as if it was a piece of heaven that had fallen from the sky, or was magically accessed through some sort of portal that went unnoticed. 
Your mind kept travelling back to those images, your heart still a bit sore from Declan's false assumptions about you, as you fixed the final details of your hairstyle - an elegant updo containing far more bobby pins and hairspray, that you'd usually go for. You'd hoped this fairytale-like town would have been the catalyst for a much more pleasant series of events, but maybe this was all for the best. A sign that you should deny and bury your feelings for good. How naive of you to expect anything else.
A knock on the door, though gentle, startled you interrupting your train of thought. Withought questioning who it was, realising you must have lost track of time, you were quick to get up and open it. And the sight it revealed was a true eye candy. You could have sworn you were ready to forgive Declan right on that spot just because of that tuxedo he'd chosen and the way his raven black curls were so perfectly slicked back.
"You look ravishing." for a split second you thought he was reading your mind, but the compliment was for you instead. The black velvet v-neck dress that hugged your body in all the right ways certainly did not go unnoticed by the handsome irishman that stood before you. He'd never seen you all dolled up before and that certainly had him feeling something stirring up inside him. Your eyes, carefully outlined with black, looked more enticing than ever and your lips, painted scarlet red suddenly felt too inviting. Was this his punishment for acting like such a jerk the previous night?
"You don't look half bad yourself." you returned with a mischievous look and moved past him to continue down the hallway, but stopped just a few steps in after noticing Declan wasn't following you. 
"Are you coming or not?" you turned around to see him in the exact same spot you'd left him. You'd forgotten that the best part of your dress was its open back rather than the v-neck cut in the front and Declan was definitely pleased with this discovery. Your voice pushed away all the unholy thoughts running through his mind and without missing another second he was striding to your side. 
"I know you still might not want to hear it, but I have the right to apologize formally for what I said yesterday." he began once he caught up with you. "I didn't mean it and I don't see you like that." he added, looking straight ahead as you both walked to the elevator.
"The words weren't the ones doing the damage. After all, I've been working for Tony for a couple of years now, I can handle insults. It was the fact that you, of all people, said them. And I know better than to think they were chosen without thought, so what was the matter?"  stopping in front of the elevator doors, your steady gaze fell on his features that always seemed to be burdened by troubles he rarely revealed to anyone.
"It's just that I think you deserve better, so much better." he admitted with a heavy sigh. 
"Allow me to decide that myself, next time." you replied with a tight-lipped smile just as the familiar sound signaling the elevator had arrived, was heard.
"If you ever change your mind, there will always be a place for you in Venturer. I want you to know that." he let you enter first and followed close behind, taking the space right next to you.
"I appreciate that. Is that how you'll call it, Venturer?" you shot him a curious look. 
"Yes, you don't think it's suitable?" he frowned at your question.
"No, I just think it sounds...dreamy!" the doors opened once again after you last word and you both stepped out to get to the car that was waiting outside the lobby. You may not have caught a glimpse of it, but Declan did shoot you a puzzled look upon hearing your answer. It wasn't really what he was expecting to hear, a simple 'no' or a 'yes but' would have made a lot more sense, but then again he wouldn't have fallen for you if everything you said came straight out that little box in his brain containing everything that made sense to him.
-
"And the award for best TV interview show host, goes to..." this was your queue, the big moment had finally arrived and you turned to look at Declan sitting next to you, only to find him doing the same. His demeanor had changed, though. With a half smoked cigarette between his smirking lips and a glint of confidence in his eyes, there was no doubt that you were now looking at the 'vicious Irish Wolfhound of Corinium'...
"Declan O'Hara!" the room erupted in applause after the presenter's announcement and you hugged each other in the most effortless and natural way possible. A feeling so new, yet somehow neither strange nor unfamiliar.
You walked up to the podium, with Declan leading the way and found your spot just a few steps behind him. You couldn't hide your smile as you watched him recieve the award and despite the fact that you'd be standing behind him for his little speech, you could almost see that sparkle in his eyes, the pride that made his shoulders feel lighter than ever. 
"It's a true honor to be receiving this award. I'd like to thank the audience that showed their support time and time again both live at the studio, but most importantly from their homes through the TV. Of course I would also like to thank Corinium, none of this would have been possible without its hard working people. Their contribution has been invaluable." with that last sentence he briefly turned to look at you, to make sure you knew exactly who he was talking about. Like all these times during his show when he searched for your eyes. He always found you in a corner somewhere by the audience. You were his anchor during any fleeting moments of uncertainty, even if you weren't quite aware of it.
Turning back to the audience once again he raised the award with a proud smile, proceeding to leave the stage with confident strides and you following close behind.
The rest of the night went smoothly. You watched and applauded all the other winners. Declan introduced you to all sorts of old colleagues of his that came by to congradulate him and if you weren't so caught up with the idea of him seeing you as nothing but his assistant, you'd swear you'd spotted jealousy in his eyes when any of then attempted to flirt with you.
Once you were back at the hotel, stood right outside, you told him you fancied taking a quick walk around the lake.
"I won't take long, just want to get a good look at it by night. And then we can get a drink maybe?"
"Oh so now it's not controversial to be seen having a drink with my assistant?" he teased, taking a step closer.
"Her boss just got an award, I think they both deserve a celebratory drink." you replied in the same tone, motioning to the trophy he was holding.
"I will have to agree with you." he gave you a smug smile. 
-
After about 15 minutes you were back. The scenery had indeed looked serene with the light from all the houses resembling fireflies on the surface of the water, but the air had gotten a bit too chilly for the outfit you'd chosen. 
Walking through the lobby you caught a glimpse of an all too familiar figure with the corner of your eye, sitting at the bar further away to your right. You were expecting to find him in his room, but it seems like he was to impatient to wait for you.
"Celebrating without me?" you asked in a playfull teasing tone once you approached Declan, his back facing you. He was slow and reluctant to turn around and when he did your smile faded.
"What's wrong?" your worry peacked once you saw his glassy eyes "Declan, what happened?" he was still taking his time to compose himself before he decided to speak.
"Maud called. She must have found the hotel from Taggie. She's been settled in London and she's filing a divorce." his voice lacked emotion. Either he was still in denial, or had fully accepted what was happening and given that this was Declan, it all pointed to the latter. Silence fell, only the distant chatter of some group of friends further away could be heard. You were unsure of how you were supposed to reply to something like this, but Declan continued on his own after nervously running a hand through his hair. "I knew it was foolish to believe she'd come back." he scoffed bitterly, then took a large sip from the whiskey sitting on the bar counter. A sheer contrast. Just a few hours ago he was the happiest you'd ever seen him, proudly recieving the recognition he deserved for his work and now... You were witnessing his most vulnerable moment. If you were being honest, you never thought Declan was capable of letting his guard down, or even be affected so deeply by something. That didn't mean it wasn't painful to actually see it. To see how much he truly loved his family that was falling apart.
"You can go, I'll just finish this and be up too. I won't do anything stupid, this time." he couldn't bare to look at you, you weren't supposed to be the one having to deal with him while he was like this. He wasn't even expecting you to say something, but eventually you did.
"You know, I'm not the best at giving advice, but I have this one saying I keep going back to when things get a bit rough. 'It's probably for the best'. I mean, sometimes shit just happens and you don't get anything good from it, but other times..." uncertain if you were doing any good, you placed your hand on top of his on the counter. "If it's of any use, I know how much you loved Maud. I saw it all in the way you looked at her during that New Year's Eve party." you took a seat next to him, your words forcing his eyes to bore into yours. He wondered how you had noticed such detail and held on to it all these months later. 
"Love was never enough for her, or at least my kind of love. All she ever wanted was attention, money." you remained quiet, watching him as he let his gaze wander somewhere along the multicolored glass bottles on the bar shelves. "I gave her a second chance after she literally slept with another man, because I believed we could work it out and now she goes and does this just because I was trying to provide for her and the kids." he shook his head irritated. He'd never spoken to you so openly about his marriage and you were starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.
You weren't quite the fan of his wife, more like you hated every piece of her vain character. She had your blood boiling with her behaviour at that party. With how she craved and thrived from everyone's eyes being on her. With how she refused to be on the same wavelength as Declan and the way she so shamelessly cheated on him. This situation was only making you more furious, more depserate to let Declan know your deepest feelings about him. Still, you tried to refrain from using his divorce for such purpose.
"You can't really change a person, but you can change the way you react to them." he let out a heavy sigh, probably still too lost in his own thoughts to actually process what you were saying. "I can only begin to imagine how all this must feel. I'm really not the person to help with it in any way, unfortunately, because I never understood what you and Maud had. Jesus, I never understood Maud's mindset, because if I had a husband like you I'd never..." you trailed off. This was so wrong, you where taking it too far. You were inappropriately taking advantage of the situation. This was not the right moment. Hell, was there ever a right moment?!
Declan's fierce eyes were immediately back on yours. All sobered up from his aches in an instant. "You'd never what?" the words rolled off his tongue inquiringly. It reminded you of times during his interviews when he'd had his guests right where he wanted them, ready to reveal some big secret of theirs.
"I'd never even think about looking at another man." you admitted with a pounding heart. At that point there was nothing to loose and before you could register what was happening Declan's lips where crashing hard onto yours, letting you taste a dizzying mix of tobacco and alcohol as his sturdy hands cupping your face.
Placing your palms on his chest you wanted nothing but to loose yourself in the moment you'd been fantasising about for so long, but once again you had to put your morals above this and were quick to push him back. Slightly out of breath and anxiously, he waited for your explanation.
"If this is just some kind of reaction, a way for you to feel like you're getting back at her, we should stop now." you drew your hands back abrubtly, fighting the burning urge to simply kiss him as hard as he did.
"This isn't about Maud. This is about you and me. Are we on the same page?" it was your turn to choose to reply with a feverish kiss, much to Declan's relief. Just before he was ready to deepen it, however, you stopped him again, leaving him confused. "Not here. At my room in 5'." you had already risked being seen, you shouldn't push it.
"You never break character, do you darling?" he smirked to which you playfully rolled your eyes before making your way to the elevator.
No sooner had you entered your room than you heard a quiet but determined knock. You were quick to open, locking eyes with Declan and not once breaking contact as you let him walk in and pin you against the door when you closed it. The collision of your lips was harder than before, if that was even possible. Tongues already eager to explore more. Your arms flying around his neck while you felt his hands on your waist and soon one of his palms travelling south behind your thigh, urging you to lift your leg up and let him press against you. The change in position had you letting out a small whimper simultaneously with Declan's grunt. 
His mouth greedily trailed down to your neck and you pulled him closer with the leg you had around his hip. He could feel your heated pulse under his lips. Or was it just his own vibrating through his entire body? Unable to say, he let himself get drunk in the feeling of your soft skin for a little longer before he retreated, freeing your body from his touch but not his presence.
The only sound that could be heard was that of your laboured breaths as you stared into each other's eyes with a spectrum of emotions: hunger, lust, anticipation, uncertainty.
"You can't imagine how long I've wanted to have you like this." he was the first to break the silence, with a low growl.
"Is that why you basically called me a whore the other night? Was that oddly specific image part of some fantasy of yours?" you were starting to put two and two together. Your hands, still on his shoulders got to work, sliding off his black suit jacket. 
"Would it be so bad if I said yes?" his voice was just a whisper, his hand travelling up your torso to one of your mounds, while the other found purchase on your waist. The idea of you bending over for Tony did infuriate him, but partially because more often that he'd like to admit he fantasised about putting you in such position.
"Abdolutely not." you sighed feeling his palm squeeze you in such perfect way, further igniting the heat in your core. The fact that Declan actually saw you in such way was making you feel light headed.
What followed was a hot mess of kisses, touches, pulling and groping, until you'd discarded each other's clothes down to your underwear, leaving everything in a heap on the floor. Declan sat on the side of the bed and took your hand to guide you to straddle him as he settled further up. Shooting you a dirty look he decided to take control.
"The other way around, darling." a bit confused, but too hot and bothered to further question his command you did as he said and let out a chuckle once you were on his lap and caught sight of the two of you within the frame of the vanity mirror on the opposite wall.
"Hope there's no objection to me watching you come undone like this." his voice was sinfully low next to your ear as he hooked two fingers on your black lacey underwear and started pulling it off.
"Who am I to say no to you?" the use of the same phrase you'd said during dinner the other night, drove him crazy, gave him a sense of power over you that was intoxicating and you felt him harden through his boxers against your back as he growled "Good girl" with that delicious accent of his.
Once your last article of clothing had succesfully been discarded, his strong hands were on your thighs, spreading your legs further to reveal your folds. Caressing his way back up he made you lightly jolt once he found your clit, lazily circling it, watching your reaction through the mirror with lust clouded eyes.
"Dirty little thing, you've wanted this too." he murmured before leaving open mouthed kisses on your shoulder. You confirmed his statement by tilting your head to give him better access to the spot. His free hand once again found its place on one of your breasts as the one working on your clit moved south, two fingers gathering your arousal before slowly entering you. 
A moan was bound to leave your lips and Declan was instantly addicted. He continued his ministrations across your whole body, eager to hear more. His mouth on your neck and shoulder, his palm on your breast and his fingers slipping in and out of you. The sight was lewd, filthy but without a doubt far better than anything that had crossed either one's mind.
"Let me see your eyes, sweetheart." his touch not once loosing its pace as he waited for you to meet his gaze on the mirror's reflection adding a thumb back on your sensitive budle of nerves, once you did. 
"Declan..." you moaned. It was all getting too much, you felt your release approaching, eyes fluttering closed as you let one of your hands, that had been gripping the sheets, reach behind and pull Declan's hair, earning yourself a grunt.
"Let go for me, darling." his velvety voice  was all you needed to reach your climax, moaning a mix of his name and profanities, your body writhing in his steady embrace.
Once you had regained control of your body, you were quick to switch your position to face Declan and get rid of the last piece of frabric separating you, just in time to see him bring the two fingers he used on you to his mouth. 
"Delightful" sheer satisfaction was painted across his features as he moaned then let you get a taste of yourslelf with a sloppy kiss. It wasn't long before your hands were on his erection, eliciting a string of heavenly sounds from him.
"I'm starting to think you were getting pissed at me all the time on purpose." he was at your mercy the way you pumped him but still tried to get the upper hand. "Were you imagining me loosing my composure and fucking you senseless against the nearest wall?" and it was working you were getting undenianbly wet again.
"Other scenarios were further up my list if I had to be honest." you slowed down your movements but squeezed harder. Two could play this game.
"Such?" he was stifling a groan.
"Us here, in this hotel away from anyone who knows who we are." with each word you positioned him at your entrance, too impatient to finally have him fill you. You moaned in unison once you relaxed and let him get buried in your walls. Relishing the moment he kissed your lips and every part of your skin he had access to and you welcomed his insatiable hunger by finding purchase on his chest.
"Ready when you are, love." he broke character momentarily to let you adjust to the stretch, but honestly, nothing sounded sexier than checking in on each other. You started moving, lifting and circling your hips as he matched you with slow shallow thrusts, while lowering you back on the sheets.
The change in angle had you whining. Declan's movements began getting harder and deeper. Words where made redundant, both too far lost in each other's touch, in each other's bodies to make a coherent sound. 
His fingers returned to your clit causing your back to arch and allowing him to reach a new spot that had you seeing stars. He was close, desperately chasing his own release but determined to bring you to your second orgasm. 
"Give me one more, sweatheart, I know you can." he groaned once he felt your hands on his broad shoulders pulling him closer, letting his lips find that sweet spot on your neck. 
With an obscene moan of his name you were coming hard once again, your mind going blank with that euphoric feeling and Declan whispering sweet nothings in your ear that soon turned into profanities as he reached his own climax. 
Was this wrong, you couldn't tell, but you were sure that if it was you never wanted to be right.
"You do realise we have some talking to do." he pulled out and plopped down next to you trying to catch his breath.
"Can we do that when we get back? Preferably with me bent over your desk?" you replied with sass, chest heaving and mind still a mess.
"Christ, you'll be the death of me."
~
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theladycarpathia · 2 months ago
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Fear Street Prom Queen thoughts as I watch it.
(EDIT: having finished it...uhhh, yeah. I have watched the original trilogy more times than I can count. Like I will literally finish 1666 and start again on 1994. This one...isn't worth watching.) Full thoughts (spoilers included) under the cut.
Exposition character intros are the WORST. Surely there has to be a more interesting way of introducing everyone without a walk through the hallway with some bland narration?
Going to give credit to the fakeout though. But also it not being a fakeout probably would have been more interesting.
MC's family past sounds interesting but currently not enough to add much dimension to an otherwise generic character
Have just checked and yep, not directed by Leigh Janiak. You can tell it's missing that something special. It's also got this very jerky feel to it, with strange jumps and cuts. It's also got way more of a male gaze view than the previous trilogy. Like, what is that swimsuit thing?
Oh good. The most interesting character gets killed first. Now we're left with a bunch of very typical prom queens and I do not care if they get killed or not.
MC's crush on generic dude is boring me.
MC being so painfully generic is boring me.
Look, an 80s prom slasher is one of my favourite genres of horror, why are you fucking it up so badly
Again, the directing is...odd. Not sure about the placement of the flashbacks either. The whole thing feels too much like telling us, rather than showing us anything.
Second girl's dead and I don't even care. The great thing about the original trilogy was that you did care when someone died. Even Heather in 1994, who we barely got to know, we still learned enough about to her to want her to survive.
I will give kudos to some of the more interesting kills though. The paper slicer was pretty good but no patch on the bread cutter from the original trilogy. Another fake out. I WANT A SEVERED HEAD IN A PUNCH BOWL. I think we lose a lot of tension by none of the characters knowing there's a killer about until very near the end. It means we're watching some very trite drama mixed in with secondary characters getting killed abruptly.
Oh God, can I just skip this mean girl why are you looking at my boyfriend shit. And the MC is such a wet weekend, geez.
Yeah, I am genuinely skipping chunks now.
Sorry, we've cut off Eurythmics for a bad prom queen dance off? Shoot me, please.
Skipped through the last half an hour because I just want it to end. Megan would have been a way more interesting final girl. Sorry, Lori you should have died, that's how little I care about you. Red herrings are red herring-y. And they probably all would have been better than what we got. Stabbing with the prom crown was pretty good.
The end would have been interesting except for that fake out again where hey, Tiffany is evil too! That really sapped any remaining interest I had left. WHERE ARE MY LESBIANS. THIS IS FEAR STREET, WHAT THE FUCK
I...really don't know what to make of this. We had a few Easter eggs towards the original trilogy but this is very little more than a generic slasher. This doesn't feel like fear street. The characters are cardboard cut outs and I feel nothing when they die, the plot-line is bland and full of holes, there's not even any mention of the curse or past killers to even tie it in. And the reveal of the mark after the credits means nothing. If Nancy killed Lori's dad, was she always evil? Was the entire family cursed to be killers? Who is the Sheriff and which Goode is cursing them as Nick's dad was confirmed to have died in 1978? To make matters worse, the kills look cheesy and fake. There's nothing redeemable about this installment in the franchise at all. And it could have, should have, been great. I haven't read the original book but wow...it can't be as bad as this.
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Rating: Ziggy Berman disapproves.
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slippinninque · 3 months ago
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🤭💗👀
Fontaine x blackfemreader
Warnings: none, fluff, maybe a weee but of cursing, Fontaine being down bad for his lady 😌, vibe-fic, may need some edits
Fontaine couldn’t help but to smile as he finally crossed the threshold to your home. He took a minute to breathe in the scent of rainfall mixing in with the incense you've left lit by the front door. When you failed to meet him at the door, he called out,
"Baby, baby…?”
He kicked off his shoes and pulled his hoodie over his head, hearing the sound of crashing waves before he saw it.
"In heeere!"
Whenever you called him with that sleepy-come hither, Fontaine picked up any money he had on the floor to come be up under you. Your off days were Fontaine’s off days. He went the rest of the way and there you were, right where he knew you’d be.
Resting on pillows and a few blankets, you were every bit of a comfortable piece of cake. Surrounded by your usual comforts of chocolate and popcorn, a book turned pages-down on your belly as a whale breached on the TV screen.
It looked like you hadn't moved an inch since your video called to him earlier, shyly asking if he wanted to come spend the day with you. Fontaine had already put his shoes on when he saw your name flash across his screen.
You reached leaned up to look up at Fontaine when he came around the back of the couch to look down at all of you. Sexy as hell, sitting there in your peace, it damned near made Fontaine hungry.
“Hi handsome...” Your lips pursed for kisses that he was already leaning down to dispense.
“Hey, titties—pretty! I mean-I meant--!”
Mouthed dropped open in shock, you gave him a delightedly scandalized look—a hand pressed lightly to your chest. Not enough to hide anything busting out of your cami, but enough to make your point.
Fontaine folded, hiding his burning face in one hand and supporting himself on back of the couch as your laugh bloomed out.
“Excuse me? Mr. Chamberlain?”
“I—I got a head of myself…”
“Oh, did you--
Fontaine interrupted you with a sweet, sound kiss, then continued,
“See, ‘cause I wasn’t suppose to lead with that--
“Right.”
Your kiss caught him off guard but he made a noise like he popped a Hershey. His eyes tracked down to your chest again,
“Meant to work up to that, see what I’m sayin’?”
“Oh, I see. Got a little a head of yourself?”
“Absolutely. Saw you and your ladies sittin’ there looking fine as shit...I’m only a man, baby.”
“You’re my man…”
“ ‘Sho is...”
By now, in between every word was a kiss. Deliciously slow. The two of you fit together like warm, sure hands. Fontaine hated missing you but there was nothing as refreshing as being rewrapped in you.
Fontaine wriggled over the edge of the couch as you giggled, pulling at him even though he was already easing down on top of you. Always so careful, always so gentle, as if he didn't regularly request for him to bend and break you.
His weight, his smell, the sound he made when your legs slotted together—you purred.
“My man, my man, my man is here!”
He laughed as he smelled a familiar fragrance of something that probably had something to do with your especially good mood. Fontaine settled down and surrendered to your reverse octopus hold.
Your hands found the back of his neck, scratching lightly and massaging at the skin there and his shoulders. Fontaine sighed and sank into your hold, resting his cheek onto your chest and nuzzling softly. The action rewarded him with a pleasing song of your body butter and detergent.
You're being so happy to see him made him feel special, like none other, like he could never go another day without seeing you first thing in the morning.
Maybe it was time for y'all to have matching keys to a place. Anyplace you wanted. If you wanted to swing from the canopies in the rainforest or dig out a home in the arctic snow--Fontaine would make it happen.
To the sound of your beating heart, the feel of your strong fingers working out kinks, and the warmth of your perfect titties--Fontaine blissfully thought of nothing else but being held by you.
--------
✨ending notes:✨ something that wouldn't get out of my head!!!! Work and life has been doing their thang but I'm grateful to be able to provide my scribbles when I can 💗💗💗Just needed to think of Fontaine's solid self getting some cuddles and, well, he told me how he felt 😌 tell me what you think!!! Comment and reblog and thank you for reading!!! ✨💖💖✨💖💖✨
💗Taglist:💗@megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15
@mcondance @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful
@8ttached@thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker
@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina @harmshake @notapradagurl7
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romor · 1 year ago
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I'm starting to think people don't understand that adaptations have to be different. Did netflix have the same amount of time as Book 1 to work with? Technically yes, but 20 episodes is for sure more than 8 so they didn't.
If you are constantly comparing it to the original and upset about the changes. Then for sure the netflix adaptation is not for you.
I've seen some bad adaptations over the years, for example my favorite book is Inkheart. Even the 2010 Avatar movie is a better adaptation than Inkheart's.
Conclusion it's a pretty good series, if you like the original, if you can watch it without constantly comparing it to the original you will enjoy it more.
Editing to add to this since so many have said something.
Inkheart is not a horrible movie, but it is a bad adaptation. Fantastic cast, with no loyalty to the source material.
There is a difference between adapting a story, and remaking it. This is literally being referred to as the netflix adaptation, so clearly it's not a remake. Because it is an adaptation, changes are expected. It would be stupid to expect a copy and paste story.
The changes make sense, because if you want book 2, and only have 8 episodes to work, you have to make a lot happen. The original show has clear start and end points for the events that occur (aka you know that start of the episode and the end). That's fine, when you have 20 episodes to work with, each 20 minutes. That doesn't work with 8 episodes each 1 hour (or about an hour). It doesn't translate to smooth storytelling. A lot of important things occur in book 1, but let's not forget that book 1 is also more episodic vs the rest of the series. In fact don't we often say "it gets better," about the book 1? What I am saying, a lot has to happen in the first season to set up not just season 2, but season 3. They did really good making sure those events happened.
I don't mind the mixing of plot because they didn't have much of a choice if they wanted a cohesive plot. I would also like to add I'm so glad the removed the northern air temple episode's setting. Never felt right with me.
I'm not saying don't compare them because it's impossible not to. I'm saying that if you are constantly going to be thinking of everything they changed, if you think the original series is so perfect. So unflawed, that how dare they even try. If you are going to be watching it already offended that they decided to even touch it. This adaptation is not for you.
If you were like me and wished that fire did in fact burn everytime it touched someone. If you are like me and thought the original series was too light-hearted for its plot. Then you will enjoy it. It's a fun adaptation, that keeps as loyal to its source material as it can be.
Yes I have my issues with it, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a fun watch.
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seventeenreasonswhy · 11 months ago
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Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 8
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Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader
You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.
~3.8k words
Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff! but with tension!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, did I mention tension!?, some alcohol consumption, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!
Chapter Content: kissing / making out / suggestive content (SFW, but MDNI, please!)
My Masterlist
Author’s Note: okay, things are HEATING UP Y’ALL! Thank you to everyone who has read this series!! I am having such fun with this pair!! I hope you enjoy this part, even tho it is long! Sorry!! Content gets more mature, but nothing super explicit—however MDNI!! Just in case!! I'm planning two more parts after this!! ENJOY!
Taglist: @yeoberryx @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah (lmk if you want to join the taglist!!)
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
Even you found it hard to concentrate on work over the next few weeks. No one had ever distracted you as much as Yoon Jeonghan. Being in the same room as him had made you nervous before, but now there was an added layer of giddiness, mixed with anxiety over anyone noticing whether something had changed between the two of you.
You were sure to always greet him now, but didn't want to go overboard... You were still being cautious about the whole situation.
The line of text in your contract prohibiting romantic relationships of any kind between employees flashed before your eyes over and over again, making the pit of anxiety in your stomach grow every time.
"What's gotten into you lately?" Jiyeon sneered at you as you collected footage from the day's dance practice. You had been hunching further and further toward your computer screen, misplacing two large video files in the wrong folder and having to dig for them again. You hardly ever made small mistakes like this, and you knew it was bad if Jiyeon had noticed.
“Sorry, I’m not sure—” you said awkwardly. She rolled her eyes.
“Well, if you’re not feeling up to Fashion Week next week, I’d happily take your place.”
Oh my god, you thought, that really is next week. You would be on the same plane, in the same hotel, attending the same events as Jeonghan... You couldn’t even attempt to hide the smile that swept over your face.
“What are you smiling like that for?” Jiyeon was still scrutinizing you. “It’s so creepy.”
“Ah, nothing,” you said, trying to reset the look on your face, “I’ll be okay for Fashion Week, don’t worry.”
Jiyeon let out something between a sigh and a groan and headed to the editing bay with her hard drive, leaving you to freak out in silence over how on earth you were going to handle being that close to Jeonghan over so many days. There would be other members there, too, but you had been assigned to Jeonghan’s entourage. You wondered what he was thinking about it... Was he looking forward to it, too? Your stomach felt like it had flipped over inside you at the thought.
But, then it hit you—you hadn’t told him whether you definitely wanted to pursue this or not. The answer felt so obvious to you, but you were still worried about your job. But, how could you say no to Yoon Jeonghan? Were you an idiot? No, this was about more than just what you wanted... you had to do what was right for both of you...
You were in the midst of this mental battle when you felt someone lean over to look at your desktop screen.
“Ah, don’t use that frame—I look too weird, nuna,” Jeonghan was so close to you that you felt his hair tickled your cheek, making you practically jump out of your skin and rocket away from him on your rolling chair.
“Jeonghan!” You blurted. You quickly looked around to make sure that no one was around. Jeonghan just chuckled at you.
“It’s okay, nuna,” he said, unable to contain his amusement at your reaction, “there’s no one here.” You looked up at him, flustered nonetheless. You’d said hi to each other, but you hadn’t really had a proper conversation—about your feelings, or about anything else, really—since he told you how he felt last week. You felt your face getting hot immediately. He was looking at you, smirking still, now leaning against the edge of your desk. He had on his dance practice clothes. You hadn’t been able to take your eyes off him during the practice. He wasn’t exactly known as the best dancer in the group, but his skills were underrated in your opinion. He was so smooth and captivating... you might be biased, though.
“What are you doing here?” you said.
“I came to see you,” he said, “why else would I be here?”
“I’m still working on this—” you said, even though you had technically finished.
“That’s okay,” he said, “I want to get you dinner when you’re done.”
“Ah, you don’t have to!” you said, panicking and feeling overwhelmed by how casual and sweet he was being. Did he not feel anxious about this at all? What was going through his head?
“Nuna, I think we should spend more time alone together so that you can start to relax,” he said in a low voice. He sounded sweet, but there was something velvety and... dangerous(?) in his tone that made your heart start to hammer out of control. You knew he had a point... it wasn’t like you wanted to be jumping out of your skin every time he came near you. But you genuinely couldn’t imagine ever calming down around him.
“Okay,” you relented, starting to gather your things.
“Yay!” Jeonghan said in a cute voice, making you want to just forget everything, squeeze his face between your hands, and kiss him over and over again. But you just laughed at him instead.
“Wah, nuna has such a pretty laugh,” Jeonghan said. Jeez, is he going to be like this all the time? You wondered.
“You’re crazy,” you said, as the two of you walked out of the production office and made your way to the parking lot. You figured that most of the staff and the members had gone home, but you were still wary, even turning down Jeonghan’s offer to carry your stuff.
“Nuna, why are you so bad at taking compliments?” he asked. He was walking slightly behind you, so you couldn’t see him looking you up and down as you walked ahead. And, mercifully, he couldn’t see your face flush an even deeper shade of red at his question.
“I’m not bad at taking compliments,” you said, “you just say them so... randomly—they catch me off guard.”
“Ah, I see,” Jeonghan said softly. “I’ll be more careful.”
“That’s not what I meant!” you turned suddenly, making Jeonghan stop short inches from your face. You immediately jumped backwards, overwhelmed by how close he was. He smiled even wider at your reaction.
“I don’t bite, I promise,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you. All you could do was turn around and walk even faster toward the car, trying to outpace your own nerves. Jeonghan had to jog a little to catch up with you.
“Nuna, it’s not a race!” he said, pretending to whine as you approached his car.
“Let’s take our time and get to know each other over dinner,” he said once you were in the passenger seat.
“I’d like that,” you said before you had time to think over your words. You kind of surprised yourself, even. Jeonghan looked over at you, his eyes gleaming with something like smugness.
“Ah, are you warming up to me, nuna?” he teased.
“Maybe,” you teased back, folding your arms in front of you. He couldn’t help but laugh at your pouty reaction.
“God, you’re cute,” he said. You looked away to hide your blatantly pleased reaction, embarrassed at how flirtatious he was being, but he could see you holding back a grin and it filled him with an even stronger urge to tease you.
Jeonghan drove you to a restaurant not far from your apartment. You’d walked by it a few times but had never had the time to stop in—even though they were open later than most places near you. It had a warm and cozy vibe, and there were almost no people there at this hour, which filled you with relief.
You sat down at a table at the back, and Jeonghan ordered an array of dishes for you to share.
“I like that sharing food here is so common,” you said when the dishes arrived.
“It’s not common in the States?” Jeonghan asked, filling a plate with a little bit of everything and then handing it to you.
“It’s not not common,” you said, “there are certain places that are ‘family style,’ where sharing food is expected. But you don’t see it that much at a typical restaurant.”
“That sounds so sad,” Jeonghan said. “Food is meant to be shared.”
“I agree,” you said, taking a few bites.
“Ah, I like that you eat well,” Jeonghan said. You became embarrassed at the thought of him watching you eat, instinctively covering your mouth with your hand.
“I guess so,” you said sheepishly.
“It’s a good thing!” he said, “Nuna! Take the compliment!”
“Thank you very much,” you joked, bowing to him. He chuckled at your taking his bait.
“What’s nuna’s family like? Did you eat ‘family style’ growing up?” Jeonghan continued to eat, watching you as he slurped his noodles.
“No, quite the opposite,” you said. You didn’t have a rough childhood by any means, but your family wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. “Both of my parents worked so much, we didn’t have much time to eat together.”
“Ah, that explains your work addiction,” he said, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Addiction!” you repeated, finding the word choice funny for some reason. Jeonghan gazed at you. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing you laugh more openly than he ever saw you laugh at work. It eased his mind, filling him with a sense of hope that you might get even more comfortable around him.
“You’re so serious about your job,” he said, “it’s impressive.”
“You’re impressive!” you blurted out without thinking.
“Ah,” he said, shaking his head humbly, “I’m not, really. I don’t think I work nearly as hard as some of the other members.”
“That’s not true!” you said adamantly. Jeonghan was a little taken aback at your strong reaction, so much so that you swore you could detect a blush creeping across his face for once. Seeing him get shy like that made your heart swell with such undeniable affection—and that was it, your decision had been made. It had been made before he’d even confessed his feelings for you, really, but seeing him so close to you—sharing such a simple but intimate act together like just eating a meal... it was so obvious.
“I’d like to keep seeing you, Jeonghan-shi,” you said. “I want it more than anything, actually.”
Jeonghan stopped mid-bite, staring at you. His heart throbbed at your straightforward gaze. You were looking directly at each other, both of you wanting to preserve this quiet but decisive moment, like a page turning.
“Wah, nuna...” Jeonghan said, putting down his chopsticks, “...that was so hot.” He smirked at you, your face getting even warmer than before, as if that were even possible. But you didn’t care anymore. How could you have even hesitated? You were so head over heels for this man in front of you, in his baggy dance practice clothes and his perfect skin even with a bare face... You wanted so badly to hold him, to kiss him...
“Chogiyo!” Jeonghan turned suddenly, flagging down the server. “Can we get the rest of this to go?” You stared at him.
“Are you leaving?” you asked, bewildered at this change of plan.
“No, we’re leaving,” he said.
“And going where?”
“Look, nuna,” he said, “I’m sorry to get impatient, but I want to be alone with you right now. Can I please come up to your apartment?” He spoke in a low, almost sinister, tone and your heart all but stopped. You hadn’t anticipated this at all. Ridiculously, your mind flashed to the sparse and impersonal feel of your apartment. Suddenly you were conscious of every dish left in the sink and piece of laundry on the floor... But you weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.
“Okay,” you said.
~+~+~
“Just close your eyes until I tell you to open them,” you pleaded with Jeonghan. The two of you stood outside of your apartment door. You were fumbling with the keycode to unlock the door, distracted by Jeonghan standing right behind you, one of his hands resting on your hip while the other dangled the plastic bag of food from the restaurant.
“Nuna, I don’t care how messy your apartment is,” he whispered in your ear, making you giggle at the tingling sensation of his breath on your skin.
“I can’t have you seeing my place like this,” you said, matching his tone as you turned slightly. His face was so close to yours that you snapped your head away by reflex, finally crashing through the door. You took off your shoes and immediately started running around the small space, picking up any stray item in sight.
“Whoa, are you a minimalist?” Jeonghan said looking around.
“You’re not closing your eyes!” you said desperately. Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh at how frantic you were being.
“Okay, I’m closing them,” he said, covering his face with his hands as he stood by the door.
You gathered whatever laundry and clutter you could find, throwing everything into the tiny hallway closet. You straightened out the bedspread on your air mattress (which you had yet to replace with a real mattress, even though you’d been living here for months). You fluffed up the pillows on the small couch at the other end of the room, trying to make the atmosphere slightly more inviting. But he was right—without the clutter, you wouldn’t know that someone lived here. Considering how much time you spent working, this apartment was basically just a place to sleep at the end of the day.
“Uh,” you hesitated, “okay, you can open your eyes.” You sat on the couch, and Jeonghan shucked off his jacket, taking a seat next to you. He wasted no time getting close to you, draping one arm over the back of the couch, boxing you in—his eyes determined and probing. You were so flustered and overwhelmed that you immediately stood up.
“What are you doing?” he laughed at you, taking his hand in yours and attempting to pull you back down to his side.
“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, almost shaking with nerves.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said, smiling sweetly at you.
“I have some soju!” you said.
“Perfect,” he said softly, his eyes never straying from you. For a moment you felt like he might be talking about you instead of the soju. You swore he kept gazing at your mouth... But you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him long, the look he was giving you made you so exasperated. You brought the bottle of soju from your fridge along with two glasses back to the couch, sitting on the floor between the couch and the low table that functioned as your dining table, desk, and coffee table. Jeonghan watched you, his hand floating up to play with your hair as soon as you sat down, making you giggle out of nervousness again.
“Nuna, relax,” he said softly, brushing your hair sweetly between his fingers before leaning down now to take the glass of soju from your hand.
“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly downing the soju and burying your face in your hands.
“It’s okay,” Jeonghan said, also downing his soju and sliding down to sit beside you on the floor. You were so close that you could almost feel his breath, the faint scent of peach from the soju still on his lips. He was looking directly at you, and you decided to push through your anxiety and remain where you were, resisting the urge to back away from him out of panic. His face was slowly getting closer to yours, his gaze dropping slightly... Your eyes matched his, taking in his beautiful features up close. You were sure that he could hear your heart pounding out of control.
But you didn’t have time to worry much longer, because before you even realized it, he had closed the gap between you—and you felt his soft lips against yours, the taste of soju fresh on his skin.
You were so shocked that you forgot to close your eyes, and for a moment, you were frozen—the feeling of his lips completely absorbing any thought you might have. He pressed his mouth into yours softly, and soon you were returning his kiss. You felt his hand move to cup the side of your neck—his thumb running along your jawline as he deepened the kiss slightly.
You let out a soft moan involuntarily, breaking away from him before you could stop yourself.
He kept hold of the side of your neck with one hand, adjusting his seat so that he was facing you more fully. He took in the look of utter shock and bewilderment on your face, making him smile. You were a little older than him, but you were still so innocent—it drove him insane with desire. But he didn’t want to push it too far. You were already so willing to go along with what he wanted; he thought it was only fair to give you some time for your brain to catch up.
He rested his forehead against yours and you let out some mixture of a sigh and nervous laughter, unable to suppress the smile stretching across your face.
You licked your lips, savoring the feeling of how they felt against his, before you reached up to also take hold of Jeonghan’s jaw, guiding his mouth back to yours. Jeonghan took this as permission to unleash more of the frustration that had been building in him for months, since he first laid eyes on you.
You felt his free arm snake around your waist pulling you into his lap. Your mind was completely lost in the feeling of his lips. He’s good at kissing, you thought, the supple feeling of his mouth, his hands, his grip on your waist completely absorbing you. Your arms wrapped instinctively around his neck, and you felt his tongue run along your bottom lip before he nipped at it softly, eliciting a soft sigh from you. You couldn’t help but open your mouth slightly, inviting him in. The feel of his tongue sliding against yours made your breath catch, the sounds of your kisses and sighs filling the tiny room.
The more he kissed you, the more lightheaded you felt, and you started to feel like you might lose your mind...
“Jeonghan—” you murmured his name, pulling away from him to catch your breath.
“Mmm?” he murmured as he dipped his head, trailing soft kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, making you shiver with pleasure. His lips sucked softly on the space just beneath your ear, and you let out a small yelp of pleasure.
“Nuna, you’re so responsive,” he hummed against your skin. You could feel his lips curving into a smile. “I love the noises you make.”
“Stop teasing me,” you panted, gripping his shoulders. His muscles were so taut, you wanted to run your hands all over his body... to feel the trim muscles and massage away any tension that he might have...
You felt something familiar threatening to overtake you, a warm throbbing sensation pooling in the pit of your stomach as Jeonghan continued to kiss your skin languidly—his lips sticky and sublime. He could feel your rapid-fire pulse beating against the delicate skin of your neck as he kissed you. He could also sense himself starting to get carried away, unsure if he could stop his cock from growing hard before you might notice.
“Wait a second—” you panted, gently tugging Jeonghan’s face away from your neck, “you can’t leave any marks, Jeonghan.” Jeonghan pouted up at you.
“But I want to keep kissing nuna’s pretty neck,” he whined like a little kid, diving back into the crook of your shoulder to resume servicing the sensitive area just above your collarbone, making you moan softly.
“Kiss my lips instead,” you whispered, and Jeonghan let out an almost exasperated sigh.
“Well, when you put it like that,” he murmured, before pulling your face toward his, twining his fingers in your hair and pressing into the nape of your neck as he kissed you even more aggressively than before. You let his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, savoring the feeling of his eager lips against yours, moaning contentedly at his obedient change in position.
You lost track of time, completely subsumed by the feeling of his tongue against yours, trying to ignore the obvious arousal starting to gather between your legs.
You were never one to move this quickly, but you were finding it hard to contain yourself...
Jeonghan pulled away from you, his hands gripping around your waist firmly as he lifted you slightly off of him, moving to stand while effortlessly bringing you with him, starting to guide you toward the air mattress on the other side of the room.
“Ah, Jeonghan!” you said suddenly, reality colliding into you as he pushed you onto the mattress, his body on top of yours. “Wait!” There was a slight edge to your voice that made Jeonghan stop right away.
“What’s wrong?” he asked tenderly, gazing down at you below him. He thought you looked absolutely stunning... But your face was flushed, and the look of panic in your eyes told him clearly that you weren’t ready to go further. Not tonight, at least.
“Nothing,” you said, trying to keep your cool, but you couldn’t hide your frenzied expression.
Jeonghan ran a reassuring hand against your cheek, planting one last kiss on your forehead.
“Let’s pick this up some other time, nuna,” he said, shifting his weight so that he was seated next to you. You felt a slight drop in your stomach... some odd mixture of relief and disappointment coursing through you.
“Oh shit, it’s late,” Jeonghan said after looking at his phone. It was indeed late, and you were scheduled to join BSS on another sponsored content shoot early in the morning. “I’ve kept you up past your bedtime.” Jeonghan smiled slyly at you, and you got up to fetch his coat.
“I don’t mind,” you said, “I’m sorry—I just, I don’t know—that I—" you couldn’t find the words to explain your hesitation when it came to this kind of thing. You felt so lame, like there was something wrong with you... this was Yoon Jeonghan!! Why were you being so weird about this!?
But you were brought back from the anxious thoughts creeping into your mind when Jeonghan’s pillowy lips landed softly against yours once more.
“It’s okay, nuna,” he said, stroking your face with his gentle hands, “I’m glad I got to be with you like this.” He spoke so softly and sincerely, your heart felt like it was going to fall right out of your chest.
“Thank you,” you said, softly back.
You watched Jeonghan walk to his car. He waved at you before driving away... and it would take you hours to fall asleep, sure that you had just lived some kind of dream.
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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 1 year ago
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Cats&Coffee - C.SC
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😻Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) with fem!reader 😺What: A lot of my brand of humour, perhaps borderline crack? Firefighter!Seungcheol. Business owner!Reader. Sort of a coffee shop au. Brother's best friend au. Reader is Shua's twin. [Simp!Chan as a background character but Simp!Chan is very important to me okay.] 😸Wordcount: 5.8k 🐱Warnings: Fire/arson mentions- nobody is hurt though and its not the main characters. Profanity. A lot of suggestive comments but no smut. More like sexual conversations. Reader is thirsty. Reader is kind of a brat but playfully. Mentions of bruises. Seungcheol calls reader princess&baby once. Implied Dom!Seungcheol but not actually shown. Let me know if I've missed any warnings, I'm terrible at knowing what to mention!
Summary; Okay, so here's the situation; you're just amusedly watching your best friend where he's perched up on a branch trying to convince the little cute fluff ball you are supposedly rescuing to get down, when some very attractive firefighters arrive to save the day. Low and behold, the leader of the bunch is the manifestation of your wettest wildest dreams; all buff and a little cocky and you're pretty certain he's showing off in that tight t-shirt for you. Do you; A- approach and flirt until he throws you over his shoulder or B- approach and flirt, and then completely forget to exchange numbers and only realise when he was long gone and then regret your very existence for the foreseeable future?
Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.
-2024 Masterlist- Ao3 link
A/N; This all came from one of @sluttywoozi 's anon asks I saw that I then got caught on because they mentioned firefighter!Cheol. I don't have the link to the original ask but it's on her account! So inspiration credit goes to that anon!
Edited: 23/12/24
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Lee Seokmin is probably the single sweetest person in the entire universe and everyone who meets the man will wholeheartedly agree. It is a unanimous decision that the man can do no wrong.
So, it's not his fault that the newest member of your cat sanctuary made a run for it out of the front door, which Seokmin hadn't closed behind him quickly enough, even though it kind of is. But nobody will ever say that, least of all to the Angel-On-Earth.
“I'm so sorry,” Seokmin apologises for perhaps the tenth time when he shuffles over to your side with his phone clutched in his hands and big, beautiful eyes staring up in a mix of worry and guilt at where Junhui is half wrapped around the branch under him with one hand outstretched trying to coax the brown ball of matted fluff to him.
“It's not your fault,” you assure, blindly reaching out to put a reassuring hand on Seokmin's left shoulder; you are too visually engrossed in what your best friend is doing in the tree to look over at Seokmin.
It isn't the first time that Junhui has climbed a tree to save a cat, or some other kind of dramatic action for the sake of a cat, but it never fails to amuse you highly.
“I should've closed the door,” Seokmin continues, lips pursed in a guilty little pout.
“It's fine, Seokie; Jun's part cat, he's made to climb trees.”
“Aren't cats really bad at getting down from trees?”
“No, they're actually good at climbing down.”
“Then why did Jun climb up after that one?”
“Because he's an idiot,” you snigger, your grin growing wider when your best friend yelps a little as he stretches too far and almost falls.
Well, almost is quite a stretch as his long legs are wrapped entirely securely around the branch and so is half of his left arm, but you're sure that it felt like he was about to fall at least.
“Hey!” Hansol calls, sticking his head out of the entrance door to the coffee shop you own with Junhui, though the main focus of Cats&Coffee is actually the sanctuary at the back.
Well, for you two and the staff, it is the main focus. You all are more than aware that the majority of the customers only visit the coffee shop with the intention of eyeing up the barista and well, you don't entirely blame them; Jeon Wonwoo is an unfairly attractive man.
“I'm going to go into your bag to get your notes, hyung!”
“Okay!” Seokmin calls back, giving Hansol a thumbs up in approval. Hansol returns the hand gesture and then goes back into the store, entirely oblivious to the customers ogling him.
Okay, so the customers don't just turn up for Wonwoo; they turn up for all of the men who are regularly in the building. But as Wonwoo is the sole barista and always in the shop out front and not the sanctuary out back mostly out of sight, you're pretty valid in saying the customers come for him.
“Do something!” Junhui calls after a few more attempts to reach the cat. You take your phone out and take a few pictures of your best friend. “Not what I meant!”
“I'm sending them to Kwannie, he'll be so pissed he missed this,” you muse, already tapping away on your phone to send the photos to Seungkwan, who you know will post them on the Instagram account he runs for Cats&Coffee.
Not because he is an employee or volunteer, because he isn’t, and technically it's not really an official account because the man made it himself one day after his own followers kept bugging him for more photos of the drinks and hot staff from the coffee shop. But because he enjoys posting embarrassing photos of the staff.
So Seungkwan runs what you and the other staff refer to as a fan account for the coffee shop and sanctuary, and he takes advantage of that joke to essentially thirst post about the men in a semi-serious way. Nobody knows if he does it for the sake of the customers, or if Seungkwan genuinely wants Wonwoo to 'grind him like those high quality beans'.
“It's okay, Jun-hyung! I've called for reinforcements!” Seokmin assures. “Just stay right there!”
“Just get the ladder and help me yourself!” Junhui whines in response.
“I'm scared of heights though!”
Junhui sighs and thunks his head on the branch slightly before he gets back to trying to inch along the branch carefully and grab the cat.
It isn't until you've put your phone back away a minute later that you register what Seokmin earlier said. “Hang on, reinforcements?” You question while turning to look inquisitively at the man still on your right where he’s watching Junhui carefully in concern.
“Yes, my best friend knows how to handle situations like this. He's done it a lot,” Seokmin answers confidently, so you accept his words and go back to grinning at the sight of your own best friend failing to win over a cat for the first time in his life.
Maybe you should've asked more questions though because when you hear Seokmin's name being called happily, you certainly do not expect to see a six-foot hunk of handsome fireman bouncing over with a wave and heart-shatteringly beautiful smile.
“Mingyu!” Seokmin calls back, smiling equally as bright and beautiful, and then the best friend is right with you and you're trying not to gawp up at him. “Thanks for coming. Jun-hyung went up to bring the cat down and now he's stuck and the cat won't listen.” Seokmin pouts over at the tree. Mingyu turns to look at the tree and pouts too.
How can a man be so cute and hot at the same time? You really have no idea but Mingyu pulls it off impeccably.
“Aw, poor Jun-hyung,” Mingyu coos sympathetically. “But no worries!” He perks up and turns back around to look at the pair of you. “We'll save them both! And by we I mean Soonyoung-hyung will save them; he's good at this. Animals love him!”
You notice two other men donning the same big jacket and trousers combination of a classic firefighter outfit approaching the tree and setting up the ladder. And hot damn if you aren't suddenly tempted to take up a new hobby of arson just to see them regularly because holy shit all three of these men are ridiculously attractive. You have to swallow thickly to keep the drool in your mouth.
The shorter of the pair by the tree holds onto the bottom of the ladder securely while the other climbs it smoothly. To your genuine delight, the man simply makes an encouraging noise while extending his hand out and the little furry demon of a cat trots straight over. You can't help but burst into cackling laughter as the feline climbs over Junhui as if he is nothing more than part of the tree while your best friend gawps in disbelief.
“Told you animals love him.” Mingyu grins proudly as you all watch Soonyoung traverse down the steps of the ladder, still as smoothly as he went up them even with one arm supporting the cat against his chest and its furry little head nuzzling into the man's jaw while Soonyoung giggles happily at the cute actions.
“A regular Snow White.” You grin.
“I'll be right back!” Soonyoung calls to Junhui and already walking over to the three of you. “Hi! I'm Soonyoung!” He greets brightly. “Your friend says to give the cat to you?” He tries to offer you the cat but it yowls and latches onto his jacket. Luckily, the material is thick and sturdy enough that the cat's claws don't actually reach the man's body.
“I think he likes you,” you muse.
“Aww,” Soonyoung coos and nuzzles the cat who loudly starts to purr. “He's so lovely, what's his name?”
“He hasn't got one yet. We run a sanctuary and he's our newest rescue.”
“A rescue?” Soonyoung turns round, sad eyes on you. “Is he okay.”
“Yeah, the vets gave him the go-ahead, he's just a little shit who wouldn't let them groom him at all. I think we might have to shave him if he doesn't let us.”
“But his hair is so beautiful.” He pouts. “It'll grow back well, right?”
“Of course,” you assure the man making his pout melt away.
“Uhm, hello?!” Junhui yells from the branch, gaining your attention back. Even the man at the bottom of the ladder hasn't been paying him any attention.
“Oh, right.” Soonyoung once again tries to hand the cat to you but the feline really doesn't want to let him go. You think it’s understandable. “Mingyu, can you go up and-”
“No way.” Mingyu shakes his head adamantly with wide eyes. “You know I'm scared of heights, hyung.”
“You're a firefighter who's scared of heights?” You deadpan. He pouts at you. “You're right; why do firefighters even need to climb ladders anyway? Just leave him in the tree, he'll get down when he falls.” Mingyu giggles a little.
“I got it,” a new voice calls, one you initially assume belongs to the man by the ladder but, oh are you so wrong.
A fourth firefighter appears; he’s clad in the same uniform as the others but something about the way he wears it seems more like it was made for him. He's already approaching the tree from the road where the fire engine is parked and he had been sitting inside in wait.
And you are unaware of this but he has definitely been checking you out the entire time and only got out with every intention of showing off.
He stops once at the foot of the tree and glances over his shoulder at the four of you before shucking off his jacket. Your throat dries at the sight of his broad, muscular torso filling out the fitted black t-shirt strapped over with the suspenders of his uniform trousers.
And talking of those trousers, holy shit does he fill them out well. You could've never imagined yourself wanting to bite someone's ass before but here you are, practically salivating at the curve of his plump backside in the ugly trousers. Which is only made more obvious when he starts to climb the ladder.
You don't even notice that the three men you’re standing with start to converse around you; your entire focus is on the epitome of your wet dreams manhandling your best friend down from the tree.
It probably says a lot that even though you have never and will never want to bone your best friend, the sight of the attractive stranger throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him down the ladder like he's nothing really does something to you.
And by that, you mean you'd really like it if the man would throw you over his shoulder, then promptly down onto his bed and climb on top. Or any surface so long as he puts himself between your thighs immediately afterwards.
And to top it off, the man doesn't even put Junhui down once both of his feet are back on the grass; he just turns and starts to approach. The man at the bottom of the ladder rolls his eyes and takes the ladder away knowing exactly what is happening here.
“I believe this belongs to you,” the man states once close enough, abruptly ending the conversation the other three men are having as they look at him. Though he's just staring you down with dark eyes and you're really not going to look away either.
“I wouldn't say he belongs to me,” you return, hoping he gets the hint that you are very single and very willing to mingle with him specifically.
“No? He told me you're his partner.” The fireman tilts his head a little, his left eyebrow raising in question.
“Work partners!” Junhui exclaims, still flopped over the man's shoulder and seeming to be rather willing to remain there for the foreseeable future. “Not romantic or sexual, gross! Not that's she's gross; she's really hot and I've heard good things from her ex-partners!”
Bless Wen Junhui for always trying to hype you up and get you a man.
“Good to know,” the firefighter murmurs, gaze blatantly checking you over. You take the chance to return the favour, and the three men with you quickly back up not wanting to be caught up in this very obvious and shameless flirtation.
Your phone suddenly starts to audibly vibrate in your pocket and you ignore it, more interested in the man in front of you.
“I think you're vibrating,” he points out amusedly.
“Mm, yeah, it's just my phone,” you confirm, half tempted to make a remark about how he could make something else vibrate on you if he wants, but pretty sure that's a little out of social protocol where first meetings with attractive strangers are concerned.
Next time though.
“Isn't he killing your shoulder?” You ask, nodding to Junhui's limp body.
“No.” Though the man still puts Junhui down carefully all the same as if reminded that he really should not stand there with a stranger draped over him any longer or it'd get really weird. “I can carry more weight than him for longer.”
“On your shoulder?”
“However I need to.”
“Good to know,” you return his earlier statement, gaze lingering on the way his chest is all but straining the material of his t-shirt. You don't notice his cocky smirk; you’re far too invested in imagining the material tearing open and freeing his beefy body for your viewing pleasure. Physical too, but those thoughts mostly come later when you're alone in bed.
Junhui stares between the two of you for a moment, wondering if either of you are going to say anything more or just continue to strip each other with your eyes. He figures it's the latter so walks off to try and claim the cat back from Soonyoung.
Neither you nor the hot fireman notice the world continuing to spin around you, up until Mingyu bounces over and pats the slightly shorter man on the shoulder with a; “Chief, we got a call; we need to go. Jihoon-hyung is already waiting to go.”
“Oh, right; work,” Chief replies, face twisting momentarily with displeasure, before he gets back into work mode and nods. “Alright, let's go.” He nods at you in farewell, and Mingyu waves brightly before the tallest rushes right back to the vehicle. The other detours to pick his jacket up from the grass then jogs to climb up into the vehicle too before it pulls away with its lights already flashing and siren kicking in when they're on the main road.
Kind of dazed, you toddle into the store and around the counter to lean dramatically against Wonwoo. There's a mystery stain on the sleeve of his hoodie near your face but you don't have the mental capacity to question it.
Wonwoo doesn't give you any attention until he's done with the customer in front of him.
“What's with you now?” He asks, pulling his arm around from where it's pressed against your chest to sling it around your shoulders instead and tug you more against his chest.
There's another mystery stain here and you vaguely recall that today is clearly a 'Wonwoo is trying to discourage is legions of fangirls' day. The man is dressed in an old, scruffy and stained hoodie and sweatpants combination; the hems barely even meet his ankles and wrists they’re so old, and he has to tie the waistband of the sweatpants up with multiple shoelaces strung together because the original tie was lost years ago. But his fangirls still stare at him as if he is Adonis reincarnated. You have to admit, he still does look unfairly beautiful like this.
“I'm in lust, Wonie,” you whine while squeezing around his waist as if you can get some of the frustration out that way.
The tall man makes a noise of understanding and pats your head as if you're one of the animals from out back. It actually feels pretty nice so you allow it. “Ah, the firefighter who carried Jun down. They told me you two were eye-fucking.”
“I don't want to eye-fuck him, I want to fuck-fuck him,” you complain, squeezing again.
Wonwoo wheezes a little and forces you to loosen your hold yet doesn't remove you from his body otherwise. “Then text him and arrange a date.”
You freeze, then jerk backwards to look up at him with a gaze so devastatingly heartbroken that Wonwoo immediately cups your face and starts to coo consolingly, even if he isn't sure why you look like your entire world is crumbling down around you.
“I forgot to get his number,” you wail.
Wonwoo's touch stills and his face falls flat, before turning unimpressed. “You're a fucking idiot.”
“I know.”
You know that if it wasn't for the new customer approaching the counter, Wonwoo would go on to tell you all the ways in which you are an idiot, but luckily for your currently very fragile ego, there is a customer, so he turns to take her order and goes back to ignoring you even as you attach to his back like some kind of sad-horny parasite.
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For days you mourn the loss of what you have convinced yourself would be the best dick you will never be blessed with.
In this mourning, it does not at all cross your mind to simply ask Seokmin to ask his bestie to hook you up with his co-worker, nor does it cross Seokmin's mind either. It does, however, cross Wonwoo's mind; but the barista is kind of cruel at times and finds other's suffering amusing. Only when it's not serious though because Wonwoo can be a bit of a sadist but he's not an asshole.
Regardless of who does or does not think up the logical solution to your suffering, you continue to suffer for days.
Until you are pretty much handed the perfect opportunity to reunite with your lost lover by genuinely the last person you'd expect.
“Wait, what the fuck did you just say?” You demand, interrupting your brother's words as he talks away to Chan by the counter in an attempt to stop the youngest man from waxing poetic over your eyes, or ass, or maybe even your philtrum; you can never tell with your simp of a neighbour.
“I was telling Chan about the fundraiser I'm helping out with for my friends,” Joshua answers while giving you a long-suffering look; the same look he always wears around Chan because, well, who wants to hear someone blathering on about how hot their sibling is?
“You don't have friends,” you retort without thought.
“More than you,” your twin scoffs and picks up his mug from the counter to sip at happily.
Cats&Coffee doesn't actually offer a drink-in option due to how small the space is, so the mugs on hand are purely for the staff or your friends when they stop by. And Joshua, of course, has his own special mug because he's a pain in your ass, but you love him more than anyone else and let him pretty much do want he wants; include supply a hand painted mug for himself to drink his beverages from at the store. Even if you think it's ugly.
“I'm noona's friend,” Chan points out.
“You're her simp, you don't count,” Joshua corrects.
Chan immediately turns to pout all sad and cute at you. “I'm your simp and friend, right, noona?”
“Of course, Channie,” you coo while reaching over the counter to tap the tip of his nose. The younger beams happily and then sends your twin a smug look. Joshua just rolls his eyes. “What's the fundraiser for?” You ask, wanting to get back to the vital conversation.
“The firehouse-”
“When?” You gawp, leaning over the counter towards your brother with eyes wide.
“Tomorrow. Why the fuck are you looking at me like that? It's terrifying.”
“Ly beautiful. You mean terrifyingly beautiful,” Chan retorts simply without missing a beat before noisily sucking through his straw. Joshua chooses to entirely ignore Chan.
“I'm going,” you declare. “Tomorrow. I'm going to the fundraiser.”
“What? Why?” Joshua gives you a suspicious look.
“There will be a wet t-shirt contest, right?” You ask.
“What the fuck? No! This is a community event to raise funds for the family whose house burned down last week, dumbass. Not a fetish movie.”
“They're called porn, Shua,” you point out while pouting slightly at your horny dreams being broken so ruthlessly.
“So noona won't be in a wet t-shirt contest?” Chan asks, eyes sparkling with the thought.
“I'm leaving,” Joshua decides, picking up his mug to take with him and goes through to the sanctuary looking for a safe haven of his own away from you and Chan.
“Sometimes I think you two should just fuck and get it over with,” Wonwoo declares from where he's perched on the stool a little further down the counter munching away on the doughnuts Chan brought with him twenty minutes ago in an attempt to sweeten you all up and allow him to stay longer.
None of you will ever tell him that he doesn't need to bring treats every time he wants to hang around because truthfully, you are all useless at remembering to bring food to work or restocking the staff room, so Chan is often the only reason any of you eat in the middle of the week.
“I think so too,” Chan agrees wholeheartedly while nodding enthusiastically along.
Wonwoo grins in amusement. He always sticks around when Chan visits because he thinks it's the most entertaining thing ever how obviously obsessed with you the young man is. And, of course, Wonwoo thrives on goading the younger on and often making comments in regard to the one time you and Wonwoo fell into bed together.
Well, not bed exactly; more like over the counter late enough one night that it was really early the next morning. Regardless, Wonwoo likes to theatrically retell certain aspects of your tryst, which you know are exaggerated or entirely fake, just to watch Chan drool at the mental images.
“Ah, but once you've had a taste, you'll be begging for more,” Wonwoo replies dramatically.
“I already beg,” Chan is utterly shameless and it only makes Wonwoo's grin grow. “But I can beg more.” The younger looks at you now, but you're too busy texting Seungkwan to task him with getting all the information possible about the fundraiser the next day.
Chan wants to interrupt and ask you if him begging more is what you want him to do, but you look too focused and he loves it when you've got that serious expression on, so he just sighs dreamily and leans down on his elbows to stare adoringly at you.
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Thanks to Seungkwan working his magic, Cats&Coffee snag a last-minute stall at the fundraiser where you, Junhui and Hansol set up all the merchandise left over from previous fundraisers.
Hansol always finds these fundraisers awkward purely because the Cats&Coffee special, limited edition fundraiser merchandise always consists of various items with photos of the men on them; the calendars of the men posing with cats are always a hit and a yearly preorder in November.
Junhui, however, doesn't even blink twice at seeing his own face staring back at him on the reusable travel mugs and keychains.
And Wonwoo happily avoids the stall to run the mini coffee truck a little to the right while pointedly ignoring the sign above him that boasts an old, edited picture of him. You and Seungkwan think Wonwoo looks absolutely precious with cat ears, whiskers and a little bell around his throat as he naps curled up with various cats. And you know the fans customers agree so the sign has remained for the past two years.
Usually, you love doing these fundraisers and get lost in convincing people to buy the merchandise, not that most of them need much convincing, to be honest. But you are rather adept at upselling with a way with words that would have the most skilled of grifters taking note, and you take great pride in it.
Yet today, you can't even enjoy watching Hansol awkwardly accepting payment for a photocard lucky dip that may or not be a little photo of his face, or Wonwoo trying to come up with new ways to discourage yet another of his fangirls from being a fangirl.
You're much more focused on watching the man of your wet dreams where he is giving tours of the fire engine and teaching people the importance of fire safety. You'd say teaching kids if you weren't positive that most of the kids are only standing and listening to him because their parents are there; and it’s very obvious which of the parents are present just to ogle the attractive man and don't give a single flying fuck about the words spilling from his mouth.
“Ohmygod, no, don't,” the familiar voice of your brother breaks you from your thirsting. You turn to look at him where he is standing between the coffee-cart and the gazebo you’re seated under. “Don't tell me you only came today because you've got the hots for Seungcheol.”
“Seungcheol?” You're up on your feet in seconds and grabbing a hold of your brother's weirdly sweaty face. You can't even focus on it; you have much more important matters to attend to. “His name is Seungcheol?”
“No,” Joshua mutters while trying to push your hands away from where you’re squishing his cheeks together into an unattractive pout. But he only has one hand free, the other holding an iced americano in a reusable cup with Seokmin's face on, so he can't really fight you off effectively or back up unless he wants to take a tumble to the gravel with Wonwoo.
“It is! Seungcheol. Man, that's a good name, sounds great. Feels great.”
“Stop it, ew,” he complains, looking genuinely pained at your words.
“Only when you tell me everything about him, but most importantly, is he single?”
“He's my friend, don't.”
“You've fucked my friends; I'm going to fuck yours whether you like it or not.”
Your brother whines wordlessly knowing that you have him beat there. He has definitely had various relations with various friends of yours in the past, and most certainly will again in the future too.
“Ugh, fine,” he concedes while slumping, so you make a happy noise and let him go.
Only now do you pay attention to the sweat on your palms and pull a disgusted face, before wiping them on his t-shirt, though that's not exactly in a much better condition. “Why the fuck are you so sweaty?” You eye him in pure disgust.
“Because Jihoon and I are doing demonstrations.” You give him a questioning look. “Exercise, you know; the thing people do to be healthy?” He rolls his eyes. “The guys asked him to lead a basic exercise demonstration to help encourage healthy habits and he asked me to help, you know, seeing as I'm a personal trainer with him.”
“Oh!” You make a noise of understanding. “Jihoon is your hot colleague.” Then another revelation comes to you and you gasp while hitting his arm a few times. He bats you in return, then pouts as he rubs at the impact spot on his bicep. “He was holding the ladder!”
“What?” Joshua looks at you as if you're crazy. Which, honestly, is a pretty common expression he wears around you or anyone who works at Cats&Coffee, or regularly spends time there.
You really do associate with a top-notch bunch of weirdos.
“The other day Junnie got stuck up a tree so Seokie called his hot bestie, who turns out to be a hot fireman with hot coworkers and the only one who I didn't talk to was Jihoon! I didn't recognise him in his uniform, and he's blond now and grew his hair out?”
“Mm, yeah, looks good right?” He enthuses and you nod. “I'll tell him you said that.”
“Mm sure,” you agree without care. “But back to the important matter here; Chief Seungcheol.” Your eyes are practically burning with how much they glisten at the thought of the buff man currently showing the hose attached to the fire engine.
Man, you wish he'd show you his hose; innuendo emphatically intended.
“I'm so going to regret this but yes, he's single.” Your brother sighs. “And now I know how you two met, I'm guessing you're the woman whose number he forgot to get after eye-fucking her with her friend on his shoulder.”
“Man, that was hot; he could throw me around so-”
“Okay, no, shut up. You're my baby sister, I don't need to hear that,” he complains, backing up with a shake of his head out of the gazebo.
“You're less than an hour older!”
“Can't hear you!” He calls back over his shoulder, already jogging back to his own station across the lot.
You turn to sit back down and happen to notice the Chief himself standing in front of the fire engine and no longer surrounded by visitors, while staring in your direction, with his big arms crossed over his big chest and a dark look in his eyes. You expect him to turn and get back to work, but he tilts his head when your eyes meet; a silent demand before he turns and walks past the huge vehicle and through the staff-only door to enter the firehouse.
“Fellas, I'm going to go get me some dick,” you declare, patting Junhui on the shoulder as you pass him to edge around the table.
“Ask him how to handle his big hose!” Junhui calls without looking up from the keyrings he is rearranging.
Hansol wonders how you two ever manage to run a business when you both always say such things so blatantly in front of customers, but then he notices the young women at the table all fawning over the merchandise obliviously and wonders no longer.
The interior of the firehouse is blessedly cool in comparison to the hot weather outside; even under the gazebo out of the sun's direct glare, you were starting to get a little sweat dappled.
“Hey,” the voice makes you jump slightly and you turn to find Seungcheol leaning back against a dinner table. You take a quick glance around behind him and realise it's the kitchen area. You're standing in the mostly open area of the ground floor, though there's a couch further to your right and you briefly imagine him pinning you down on it.
“Hi, Chief,” you reply while sauntering closer.
“You know Shua?” He asks bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush. He's pretty certain you both have one thing on your mind based on the way he has noticed you staring him down hungrily for the past two hours.
“He's my brother,” you inform and stop close enough in front of him that the tips of your sandals are almost touching the toes of his clunky uniform boots. You dread to think how hot his feet must be in those.
For a second, you're genuinely disgusted at the thought, but then you notice how his crossed arms bulge and threaten to rip the hems of his sleeves around his biceps and suddenly you don't even know what feet are.
“You're his twin?” He gawps, arms dropping to his sides in disbelief and crushing disappointment.
You hum with a nod and pout a little at the lack of bulging biceps in your vision. But then you realise you can now see his pecs stretching out the black material and you're happy again.
“Stop,” he mutters and reaches up to physically tilt your head up so that you're no longer blatantly checking him out with heavy eyes. “You know your brother is pretty much my best friend, right?” He genuinely looks pained. “I can't fuck you.”
“Yes, you can.” You smirk and step closer, pressing your palms to his chest. You can feel him inhale deeply when you make a home for yourself against him, your thighs locked between each other's and so close to applying pressure exactly where you both want it. “He's essentially given his blessing.”
“He has?” He doesn't fully believe you; that doesn't sound like the Joshua he knows, but he's a weak-ass man when it comes to you. Literally, he already decided he'd do some insane things from the moment he first saw your ass while he was checking you out in the fire engine the other day.
So he lifts his hands to initially settle on your hips but they very quickly, almost immediately, slide down to settle in your back pockets. Not quite touching you up but pretty fucking close.
“Mm, well, blessing isn't the right word. I told him that he's fucked enough of my friends that he has no say in which of his friends I fuck.”
“Do you plan to fuck any of his other friends?” He raises an eyebrow and tugs you a little closer.
“He doesn't have any friends,” you retort and he huffs a short laugh. “Just Jihoon, right? I mean, he does look really fucking good blond so-”
“Don't you dare finish that sentence, princess,” Seungcheol mutters darkly, almost glaring at you in warning. You bite back a grin. “So I'll ask again; do you plan to fuck any of Shua's other friends?”
“Depends on if you disappoint me or not, doesn't it, Chief?” You tease while winding your arms around his neck with a playful smile.
“You're never going to want to fuck anyone else when I'm done with you.”
“That bad, huh?” His face drops. It takes everything in you to not crack up laughing. “Going to put me off sex in general?”
“Shua's right; you're a fucking brat.”
“Mm, yeah,” you confirm shamelessly and press against him entirely. “Kinda think you're into it though, Chief.”
“Is that going to be a thing? Calling me Chief? Or do you just not know my name?” He wonders, head tilting a little and one arm wrapping tight around your waist, while his thigh between yours pushes up between your legs making your eyes light up with joy.
Finally you have him.
“I know your name, but shouldn't I call the boss by his title?” You coo faux-innocently.
“"I'm the boss, huh?” You nod and he smirks. “Damn fucking right, baby.”
Seungcheol doesn't wind up pinning you to the couch, not right away at least. He does, however, take you upstairs to the office and bend you over the desk until you have bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips and nothing but his name on your tongue.
And as it turns out; he was right. You never want to fuck anyone but him again.
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A/N- I know this reads like it should end in smut and I did intend to write it but I'm very certain I would not do the vibes justice, I'm so out of practice with smut. But maybe in the future? But if you want some good smut, go read sluttywoozi's stuff fr, you will not be disappointed
Anyway, I hope you liked, please let me know what you think& reblog!
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vettelsvee · 11 months ago
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CLIFFORD AND EMILY | Sebastian Vettel
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ferrari sebastian vettel x race engineer girlfriend!reader
word count: 3195
summary: y/n tells seb that it would be a great present for his birthday to adopt a puppy, and they find the perfect one
warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff. dad ferrari!seb as i can't get rid of him. based on 2018 season and narrated on seb's pov
a/n: once again, this is part of history series (coming soon as is being heavily edited) and translated by cele! changed my layout to my comfort people so are you like it? also, as always, i'll be waiting for your feedback, as well as comments and chats on that anon button please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated guys! tysm <3
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© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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Normally, I didn't have trouble getting up in the mornings, especially during Grand Prix weekends, but today it had been incredibly hard to leave Y/N and Emily sleeping.
Maybe the problem was that today was my birthday, and, in part, we couldn't spend it like a normal family. I didn't mind working on such a special day, but it did bother me when I thought it was my first birthday with Emily.
Very reluctantly, I decided to start my day, trying not to let my bad mood consume me. As soon as I set foot on the floor, I adjusted the sheets to cover my girlfriend, taking the utmost care not to wake her. Nights with our daughter were exasperating, and I didn't know how Y/N managed to be at one hundred percent during team meetings, press conferences, free practice sessions, qualifying and the race, and especially the briefings and all the data analysis her job entailed.
I trained with Eddie for just an hour and a half. According to him, my birthday present was a less strict training session; even so, we ran a lap around the block where the hotel was located, and then we went straight to the gym.
At half-past seven in the morning, to my good fortune, he told me I could go back to my room to get ready for that Friday.
I entered as quickly as I could, being very careful because it was still quite early, and I assumed my girls would be resting. Deep down, I knew that wasn't going to be the case, so I wasn't surprised to see Y/N, still in her pyjamas, walking back and forth while breastfeeding Emily and trying to eat a piece of toast.
“God!” She quickly swallowed the bite and pretended she hadn't been eating. I couldn't help but laugh at how cute the scene seemed to me. “I'm so sorry, Seb. I had ordered breakfast to be brought up and ready for when you came, but I was so hungry and wasn't sure when Eddie would let you go today…”
I shook my head and approached her. I left a short kiss on her lips and then placed another on my daughter's forehead.
“Happy birthday, sunshine,” she said, wrapping her free arm around me. “How many birthdays have we spent together now? Eight?”
“Seven,” I corrected her, remembering we didn’t get to spend the 2008 one together. “And I hope there will be more because I'm not going to let you get rid of me anytime soon.”
“Do you really think I'm going to get rid of you so soon? In case you don't remember, we not only work together: we also share a house, a cat, a daughter, and we're going to have a dog…”
After that last part, Y/N let out a small scream and covered her mouth with her hand.
If I was the one who could keep secrets perfectly, Y/N Y/L/N was the complete opposite.
“What do you mean by a dog, Y/N?”
“Oh, well, I don't know… I must have mixed up some conversation I had with Aristella about Cherry,” her nerves were quite noticeable. “I got confused, and…”
“Y/N, I know you perfectly, and I know when you're lying to me. What did you mean by we’re going to have a dog?”
Given my insistence and, why not say it, the poker face I probably had, my girlfriend sighed. She placed Emily in the crib next to our bed and, while asking me to sit down and start having breakfast, took her mobile phone and immersed herself in it.
“Well, you see…” she began, sitting in front of me and taking a strawberry in her hands. “Since you adopted Vanilla as a surprise for me, I've been thinking that I would like to do the same for you, but between the chaotic 2013 we had and Emily's birth, I found it a bit impossible. It's also true that it's something I would like to discuss before doing it because it's a matter that depends not only on me but also on you,” she clarified.
“And that means…?”
“Forget it, Seb. It doesn't matter. I haven't told you anything, okay? Forget it.”
It bothered me to see her so indecisive, though it didn’t stop me from finding her idea quite endearing deep down. I knew she was nervous; the constant fiddling with the napkin and her flushed cheeks were proof of that.
“Do you want to adopt a dog?” I asked her, loud and clear.
“It’s not that I want to adopt a dog. Well, I do, but…” she sighed, stopped eating breakfast, and looked at me directly. “The thing is, I know you’d like to have a dog, and you’ve had that idea in your head for quite some time, so I thought that, only if you want, we could adopt one,” she finally explained.
“Do you want to wait until we get back home? If you want, we can talk to Michael and have him recommend…”
“No, no, not at all! I’ve already talked to Lewis about it, and he’s informed me,” she hastened to clarify. “Since I wanted to do all this, if possible, today, I asked him where he adopted Roscoe and Coco. I thought today was the perfect day for the adoption because it’s your birthday,” she repeated.
I nodded as I got up and headed towards Emily’s crib, who had started crying once more.
“I mean, all this is only if you want, of course,” Y/N spoke again. Before I could respond, she interrupted me once more. “But if you want, we can do it when we get back home. I don’t mind, except I wouldn’t have another birthday present to give you…”
Still holding the baby in my arms, I approached her and silenced her with a long, slow kiss, one I took my time with but received no complaints about, quite the opposite.
Y/N always went out of her way with gifts, even during times when her finances weren't the best. I much preferred her giving me something symbolic over an expensive whim.
So, the fact that she wanted to adopt a dog today, as my birthday present, made this thing I had wanted for so long even more special. Plus, thinking that Emily would grow up with the new member of the family made it a thousand times better.
“If my girl says it’s happening today, then we should follow her lead,” I finished saying. “What time do you think we’ll be done with everything we have to do today?”
[...]
“I hope there aren’t too many people, because if Britta finds out we’re doing all this without telling her…”
“Y/N, relax. If there’s any problem or anything, I’ll handle the press. Besides, it’s not like they don’t know me: remember I adopted Roscoe and Coco there, so they know me quite well.”
Lewis had decided to come with us to, according to him, ensure his friends received proper treatment. Deep down, I knew it was because he didn’t want to see Aristella, Britta’s niece and Y/N's best friend, hanging around Rosberg even while they were in the middle of their divorce process.
Hamilton’s concern for the girl wasn’t just something a friend would have, and I knew he was fully aware of that.
“Do you have something in mind, Seb?”
Lewis’s voice snapped me out of my trance.
“Sorry, what?”
“If you’ve thought of a name for the dog,” the dark-haired man spoke again. “I hope it’s something different from the usual. You know, the world has too many Tobys and all those common dog name variants.”
“If we’re talking about giving common names to pets, Seb is your guy,” Y/N spoke now, almost shouting. “When he adopted Vanilla just to get me to move in with him, he told me Garfield was a better name. Garfield, like the cartoon cat! If that’s not common…”
“What do you want to call an orange cat, Y/N? Vanilla? I remind you that you wanted to name her Cheeto…”
“Because she looked like a Cheeto and I thought it was a male!” she retorted. “Later, when I realised she was female and not so orange, I named her Vanilla.”
“Vanilla, I like it. It’s an… interesting name,” Lewis intervened. “Can I ask why you named her like that?”
“Y/N's favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla. That, and if you add the fact that cats are her favourite animal…” I answered in her place.
I saw Y/N's lips curve slightly in the rear-view mirror.
Then, she turned around and put a hand on my leg, stroking it.
“I hope you find the perfect name for the new family member, love. Even if it’s the same as every other dog in the world,” she said ironically.
After those words, I realised we had arrived at the shelter Lewis Hamilton seemed to admire so much.
The Brit, as he guided us towards what appeared to be the entrance, commented that we should be careful with Emily, not because the furry ones were aggressive, but because they got very excited when they had visitors, especially if they were children.
A dark-skinned woman with completely dark hair was at the door, as if she had been waiting for us for a while. Lewis gave her a hug and immediately introduced us.
“These are Sebastian Vettel, his girlfriend Y/N, and their daughter, Emily.”
She gave us a smile, and I saw she intended to shake our hands until she saw our little one. She approached to dote on her as soon as Y/N gave her permission with a glance. Emily’s laughter began to fill the room, and she started to move cheerfully in Y/N's arms.
“I’m so sorry for my lack of manners, but when I see such a beautiful baby like this little one…” the woman began to say, still playing with the child. Then, she cleared her throat and looked at both of us. “Nice to meet you, couple,” she finally shook our hands. “I’m Jade, and well, I’ve been a volunteer at this shelter since time immemorial, back in the prehistoric times.”
“Don’t say that, Jade! You look wonderful,” Lewis told her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t be so flattering, young man,” she chided him. “I appreciate all kinds of compliments for my age, but that’s not why we’re here. Well, tell me: if I’m not mistaken, and as your friend here has told me, you want to expand your family, right?”
Now she was looking intently at both of us. I nodded in response; at the same time, and by inertia, my right arm wrapped around my girlfriend’s waist, which made Emily start reaching out her little arms to come to me.
“Today is Seb’s birthday, and he’s been wanting to adopt a dog for quite some time,” my girlfriend explained.
“Oh, the adoption is a birthday gift!” Jade exclaimed, beginning to clap and approaching me quickly to give me a hug that I gladly accepted. “Happy birthday, dear! How old are you now?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Oh, dear. If I could be that age again…”
I smiled at her response as Y/N handed me Emily, who had started babbling to come to me.
“A daddy’s girl, I see, huh?” Jade chimed in. Y/N was about to answer, but before she could even do so, the woman was already speaking again. “Well, since it’s your birthday, I think I have the perfect gift for you.”
Without saying anything more, the woman gestured for us to follow her, and we did. We passed through several areas with dogs of different ages roaming freely, who approached us to sniff and perhaps convince us to adopt them.
Lewis mentioned that some of them were related to Coco. I laughed at the supposed joke, which stopped being a joke when Jade confirmed it. Y/N lagged behind a few times because she stopped to play with the dogs that approached her, which were quite a few. Emily and I, however, kept a brisk pace, possibly eager to find out what the woman was talking about and why she was being so mysterious.
Finally, we arrived at a kind of room with less light than I expected and, to my surprise, full of what seemed to be soft little beds. On top of them, not only was there a dog lying down that seemed quite tired, but there were also several puppies nursing from her.
Jade indicated before we entered that we should remain silent.
“One of our dogs gave birth last night,” she told us. “I don’t want to give all her puppies up for adoption since I’d like at least one to stay with her, but considering that the puppies and you share a birthday, I’d be delighted if you adopted one of them.”
I opened my eyes wide and couldn’t say anything. Next to me, Y/N seemed to have reacted the same way I did.
Saying we were surprised would be an understatement.
“But… are you serious?” my girlfriend commented, still in surprise.
“Of course, dears!” the woman responded cheerfully. “The only issue, so to speak, though it’s not really a problem, is that it’ll take about a month and a half before you can take him home. You know, the separation process from the mother is crucial.”
“No problem, really. We’ll wait as long as it takes,” I finally spoke. “Besides, I think we have a break around that time, right?”
“Yes, about a month,” Lewis replied.
“We’ve already got our vacation destination, sunshine,” Y/N said to me, apparently much more excited than I was.
“Now, I need you to tell me something important: which one of them do you want to be your little girl’s new brother?”
Still holding Emily, Y/N and I carefully approached the puppies.
To our eyes, they all looked exactly the same. We couldn’t see their eyes, but I was almost convinced they would be similar to the colour of their fur, a light brown skin similar to beach sand. They were huddled together and didn’t seem to be doing anything other than trying to nurse for as long as possible.
“Do you know what breed or mix they are?” Y/N asked the lady with that characteristic curiosity of hers.
“If I remember correctly, their mother is a golden retriever and their father, a big labrador.”
My girlfriend thanked her, turning towards her and leaving Emily by herself for a moment. At that point, seemingly unaware that her mother wasn't watching her every move, the little one began to crawl towards the puppies. Instinctively, I quickly scooped her up in my arms to prevent her from doing so. However, she didn't seem to give up: she started kicking until, just like that, I brought her a little closer to the furry animals.
While Y/N and Lewis chatted with Jade, I remained seated on the floor next to my daughter, who seemed to have settled on a particular puppy. I tried shifting her gaze from side to side, attempting to get her to notice the rest of them, but it seemed the one farthest from its mother had caught her attention the most.
“I think Emily has chosen who’s going to be her adopted sibling, hasn’t she?” I remarked.
As soon as I said that, the three of them turned towards me, crouching down to my level. Emily was still engrossed with that little one and seemed to continue being so until we left.
“Have you chosen for Daddy, Emi?” Y/N asked, almost lying on the floor to join the game that Emily was playing with the one who seemed to be our new child. “Do you want this to be your new little brother? Or sister, of course.”
“He's a boy, actually,” Jade intervened. “And, if I’m honest and don't recall incorrectly, he’s the oldest of the whole litter.”
“Do you want to adopt this little one then, sunshine? Honestly, if you’re not convinced we can wait a bit…” Y/N whispered as if wanting it to be a secret between us.
“Clifford,” I suddenly blurted out.
They looked at me as if they had seen a ghost. Of course, I would act the same if someone dropped a name out of nowhere in a situation like this.
“I want to name him Clifford,” I clarified. “Remember the series about that big red dog you told me you watched with your sisters when they were little?” I asked my girlfriend, who nodded. “Well, if I remember correctly, you told me that the main character of the series, who was also the owner of the dog, was named Emily.”
“What’s that got to do with it, love?” she asked, curious. Did she really not know why I had suggested that name?
“Well, it just so happens that your daughter is named Emily and she seems to have chosen for us.”
Y/N’s eyes lit up and widened exaggeratedly. I swear I saw them get a little misty when she finally seemed to understand what I meant. Immediately, she stood up, took the baby in her arms, and began to talk to her while they played as if they were the only ones in the room.
“I guess I already have a birthday present, right?” I asked the redhead, standing beside her and giving her a kiss on the forehead and another to our daughter.
“Emily and Clifford…” she murmured. “I like it. I love it, actually.”
“Well, I hope that when we have the next baby, I can nail it in the same way.”
Jade, after the last sentence that I had just said, was left dumbfounded. Lewis, for his part, tried to turn a deaf ear and, instead, told me that they would be waiting for us at the entrance to do all the necessary paperwork, not without whispering to me in the least blatant way possible that he hoped that this would be my other birthday present.
Obviously, he deserved a well-deserved punch from Y/N.
“Are you already thinking about the next baby, love? Emily hasn’t even turned one yet!”
“I always think about the second baby, to be honest,” I replied. I was convinced, and I knew as well as she did that we had barely laid the foundations of our family. “A puppy brother for Emily is fine, but a human one would be a thousand times better. Don’t you think so?”
Y/N rolled her eyes and turned away, heading towards the shelter entrance. I quickly caught up with her, and her laughter filled my ears.
“If you're already thinking about our second baby, then we'll have to listen to Lewis and start practising tonight before dinner with my parents,” she suggested.
Her mischievous look infected me, and I couldn’t help but return it.
“As the birthday boy, I vote for squeezing in a free practice session before dinner with my parents tonight. How does that sound?”
“Whatever you wish, birthday boy,” she replied. “But I hope you come up with a good enough excuse for them not to suspect anything when we arrive late, and also when you ask if they can keep Emily overnight.”
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