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#I warned people about the parts that are so you can't get mad at me :)
xoxosimp · 8 hours
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Perfect Timing
POV: You were right not to trust Bucky with your heart. 
Part two of Wrong Person, Right Time
Warnings: fluff, a wee bit of angst, Steve is a dress shirt is a warning,mediocre writing, not beta’d , barely proofread
I listened to “ It’s gonna be me” by *NSYNC and “El Farsante (Remix)” by Ozuna and Romeo Santos while writing this. 
~~~~~
Trying to discreetly look into the crowd proved to be a challenge. You needed to engage with the panelists and look as neutral as possible with the camera rolling. If only the crowd could part like the Red Sea so you could find him. 
You were hosting a panel at a university discussing college access among second generation immigrants and low income students. You invited multiple officials from the university’s admissions department and the leadership behind multiple college access partnerships. It was an honor to host the panel, considering you were so young. 
You invited Bucky when the panel was approved. You darted your eyes every so often in the sea of students and faculty. But you didn’t see him. Not his beautiful blue eyes. Not his messy brunette hair. 
Once the panel was over, you shook numerous people’s hands with half hearted thank yous. As people were leaving the venue, you still couldn't find Bucky. 
You reached to grab your phone from your purse, however in the corner of your eyes you see a speck of red. 
You look up and see Steve Rogers holding a beautiful bouquet of roses. He is dressed to the nines, in a white dress shirt that’s folded up to his elbows. You try, tried not to linger on how his dress pants hug his thighs. His hair is combed back and he wore a smile. 
Your eyes widened, “ Steve! What are you- What are you doing here?” Your eyes darted behind him, to see if Bucky was coming from parking the car. 
“ Well hello to you too,” he greeted. “ How could I miss your panel?”. You were so clouded with “Is Bucky here” and “ Is he mad at me”, that you forgot you invited Steve. 
“ When did you get here? I didn't see you at all.”
“Well I was a little late because I needed to get the flowers,” he admitted sheepishly, “ I got a terrible seat in the back.”
You took the flowers, “ This is so sweet, Steve. Thank you.”
A silence filled the air, your mind buzzing with the question you so desperately wanted to ask him.
“ Bucky isn't here.”
You sighed, “ Figures, I think he’s mad at me.” Steve’s face prompts you to continue. “ I don’t wanna talk about it.” It’s completely valid that he was upset with you, but before all of that, he is your best friend. He supported you no matter what in all things you were passionate. Now that he’s mad at you, he can't be bothered?
“ Is Lilian here?” you asked. 
“ We broke up.”
“Oh I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t,” he put his hands in his pockets. “ It was for the better.”
Maybe Steve really does need someone that can soothe him, you remembered what Bucky said. It was a special type of affliction to be ready to love and give your heart to someone who was undeserving of it. Steve needed someone to ignite his flame, not snuff it out. 
And you needed someone that would weld the pieces of your glass heart back together. 
You leaned and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek. “ You being here means everything to me, Steve.”
Steve smiled, “ How could I not be here to support you, my beautiful nerd?” 
A grumble of your stomach pulled a chuckle out of Steve. “ Can I buy you dinner?”
“Only if dinner consists of fries,” you said.
“Well you’re too dolled up for McDonald’s , so how about Magarita’s so you can get churrasco?”
“Sounds perfect.”
If you valued anything, it was simplicity. If Bucky was the careless player that toyed with your heart, then maybe Steve was your knight who protected it. Simple as that.
~~~~~
A/N : Plottwist? Plottwist.
For the people who asked to be tagged: @blackhawkfanatic
@scott-loki-barnes
@genlovesdcb
@rabbitrabbit12321
@mostlymarvelgirl
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maraudersmyloves · 15 days
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i’m a slut for the “he says something bad about someone else but you think it’s about you” trope.
soooo, do you think you could write something like that with james. and like he doesn’t know why you seem to be mad at him and why you’re kinda pulling away.
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─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆。゚. ───
Pairing: James potter x reader
Warnings: cursing, some angst
Word count: 745
Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!
Disclaimer 2: A part two is planned and currently being written but I wanted to get this out quickly so I hope you understand that I broke it up into two parts
Sypnosis: You overhear the marauders talking and assume it's about you, causing you to distance yourself from a perplexed James.
"Distance". :☆。゚. ────
part two
you jump down the stairs to the common room, following the familiar voice of your boyfriend. He's laughing with the other marauders and you are about to join them on the couches when Sirius groans in annoyance, "She's just always clinging to you, mate. It's annoying."
You freeze as you watch James' face screw up in embarrassment. He sighs and lets his head fall back while covering his eyes, "I know but I feel bad. She doesn't really have anyone else."
Your mind races trying to find excuses. Maybe he's talking about someone else. But, who? You don't know all of his Friends it could be anyone. But the description fits, doesn't it? Clingy? Desperate? He's always hugging and kissing you, no way he doesn't want you to do the same. He just feels bad.
You feel hot tears hit your cheek and quickly turn around to run back to your dorm. Before you can drone them out completely, you hear Peter pipe up. "I know, but she's started to hang out with me too. It's getting a lot and I tried to be nice but she talks so much."
Oh.
Even Peter hates you.
You didn't think Sirius liked you anyway and of course James hurt but Peter? He was so nice and accepting of your quiet nature, gardening, and playing chess with you. You misinterpreted it all wrong, once again.
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All around you, students are talking and playing stupid games. Now, that it's gotten warmer every fucking student felt the need to hang out outside. But can you really judge when you're doing the same?
Yes!! Because you're not screaming and jumping around with your oh-so-great friend group. You're just sitting under a tree trying to read. The sun is glaring on the page, the wind is blowing your hair in your face and 49 different people are talking way too loud around you.
It's fucking annoying and now James is approaching too. Fucking traitor. He lets himself fall down next to you, spreading out his Limbs to take up as much space as he possibly can. He stays that way for a few seconds before he shifts to lie next to you. "hey, love." You ignore him and the way your skin tingles when he shifts closer to gain some skin contact.
He pouts when you don't answer, expecting you to be focused on the book. In reality, you haven't been able to focus and read a single word for at least ten minutes. He pokes your cheek in a way you'd usually find cute, but now it only makes your mind clouded with questions. Why is he doing this?
He sighs when you still don't give him the attention he craves, "Watcha reading," he asks stretching out the last word in a sweet song-like tone. "A book," you answer flatly before abruptly standing up.
He looks up at you with something you could only describe as puppy eyes and asks where you're going as if you hurt him deeply. "My dorm," you answer. It's short without any explanations or elaborations.
You turn around to leave, not seeing James' hurt look. He quickly jumps up again to follow you, grabbing you by the arm. "Where are you going," he questions with his eyebrows creased in worry and lips tight together.
You gently pull away your arm, not wanting to seem too angry with him. It's not his fault you're so annoying. "I just want to be alone right now," you say quietly. You can't bear to meet his dark and desperate eyes, he looks too sad. You know better that to believe it.
James takes a step back, wanting to respect your boundaries even if the lost proximity makes him want to tear off his skin. "Oh, okay."
"Sorry."
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James flops down onto his bed with a groan. He bangs his head against the pillow a few times, too. For good measure. What did he do? Did he make you uncomfortable? Merlin, he hopes he didn't.
Maybe you stopped loving him and felt too bad to tell him. No, no, no. He can't think about that for long or he'll start crying. What did he do to lose you? Then again, he never deserved you in the first place. Not your kind eyes or lovely smile. You represented love, so why would you need his when you've got plenty oozing out of you at all times.
You're perfect and he lost you.
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aperrywilliams · 1 month
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If Anything, I Find it Educative (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Part 1: If Anything I Find It Educative
Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t
Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Spencer is not happy attending the annual FBI Gala this year. Having to socialize with a woman who only wants to seduce him makes it worse. But one not-so-fortunate incident could improve his night somehow.
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: Awkward Spencer. Morgan is stubborn about Spencer getting 'game.' Spencer spills facts about seafood (oysters), human biting, and cheating. Mention to Spencer's dick (only a phrase). Someone choking on food is described. A toxic relationship and job insecurities are described too. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: Okay, people. This is kind of an experiment: I want to know how you think the relationship between Spencer and Reader might evolve (if it evolves at all). Good friends? Romantic relationship rom-com style? An angsty romantic relationship? Friends to lovers? Just lovers? What important things do you imagine could happen to them? (canon or not). What could be the Reader's whole back story?
This is just a one-shot, but I am considering continuing it based on your thoughts and suggestions.
Part 2
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Spencer's POV
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There are few things I hate more than being surrounded by many people at an event. Standing in the middle of a crowded party dressed in formal attire is one of them. 
It is an uncomfortable occasion highlighted by uncomfortable clothes.
And this time, it's Hotch's fault.
Tonight, I should have been at home, wrapped in a cozy blanket and enjoying my new edition of War and Peace. But the annual FBI gala and Hotch's adamant request blew my plans.
"Strauss wants to see the whole team at the venue this year. And we are in a very thin line with her to ignore her wishes."
No one seemed conflicted with the idea of attending this fancy party. Even some of my teammates looked excited about it. While JJ and Garcia chatted animatedly for days about what dress they would choose, Morgan saw it as a chance to get to know the new female agents working at Counterterrorism. Rossi only wanted to know how good the scotch would be this year, and Prentiss took it as an excuse to have free drinks. For his part, Hotch seemed as calm as any day at work.
But me? I wasn't excited at all.
Reluctantly, I purchased a tuxedo for the gala. At first, I thought about renting one since I would hardly use it again. But my germophobic self made me think again, and I decided the expense would at least make me feel less uncomfortable.
Keyword: a little less uncomfortable.
Now, I'm standing at the entrance, scanning the venue, searching for a familiar face. The place is packed with agents from all divisions and their plus ones, so it's hard to find anything at all.
But a familiar voice pulls me from my struggle.
"Boy genius! Over here!"
Penelope is calling my name from a table in the corner. As my gaze lands on her, I can see Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Hotch there too.
A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and quickly, I stroll where my teammates are.
"Spence! You made it!" JJ greets me as I pull a chair next to Morgan to sit.
"We thought you weren't coming," Emily added before sipping her drink.
"I understood it was a requirement," I quipped, looking at Hotch. The aforementioned man nodded in agreement.
"It was, indeed. Have I to remind you Strauss is still mad about the whole ordeal with you stepping into a building with no vest and no gun?"
Hotch is right. Strauss made his life hell for a whole week until he notified my suspension.
I wince, remembering the incident in question.
Self-note: don't leave behind the vest and the gun again.
"You look very handsome, boy wonder," Garcia chimes, waving her hand and pointing at me.
I can't help but blush at the compliment. It's not she hasn't done it before, and I know she means well, but-
"Maybe pretty boy gets some game tonight," Morgan claps his hand on my shoulder, grinning.
That's why I don't like that kind of attention. At every chance, someone pips up and tries to play wingman or wingwoman for me. And although I appreciate their efforts, I like to move at my own pace. Even if some say my pace, it's more like a turtle's speed.
Giving him a tight-lip smile, I reach for a glass of water. I don't know how I'll survive this night.
Surprisingly, it is okay for now. I fall into conversation with Garcia and JJ, although it is more like me listening and them talking. Occasionally, I add some to the topic, and they seem receptive.
But Derek looks impatient to stand and march to a group of women talking on the opposite side of the venue, next to the bar. I don't look much into it until I feel his hand on my shoulder.
"You're oddly quiet tonight, pretty boy. What's up?" My sight darts from JJ and Penelope to Derek.
"Nothing?" I offer. My eyebrows creace. Derek snickers.
"I know what you need! Come on, let's enjoy the party and come with me to chat with those beautiful agents at the bar over there," he proposes. I shake my head.
"No. I'm good. You can go if you want. I don't think you need my help."
Derek rolls his eyes.
"Don't get dismissive with me. It'll help you to lose a little. I promise," he insists. And I know I'm losing my battle with him tonight.
"As if I had something interesting to say to them," I mumble, loud enough for Derek to hear.
"Don't say that. Surely, some would like to hear about, I don't know, oysters? And how they became a symbol of glamor or whatever. Because I'm sure you know that, right?" Derek points, grabbing an oyster from the tray a waiter offers him.
"Actually, oysters were not considered a status symbol until the 11th century, when the Crusades trunked access to seafood in Europe. Some researchers believe that-"
I'm about to explain the whole thing when Morgan cuts me off.
"See? Now, don't waste that knowledge with me, and let's share it with those gorgeous, shall we?"
I'm screwed.
I reluctantly stand to follow Derek. I know he's the best intention even if I won't tell him that. Maybe he's right, and I need to step out of my comfort zone occasionally.
As smoothly as only Morgan can be, he interrupts the conversation between three women by the bar. You would think they would return annoyed looks from the sudden interruption, but they did not. It is everything but that.
"Excuse me, beautiful ladies. Hope you don't mind some company. My friend and I thought it would be an honor to share part of your precious time tonight."
How the fuck can he do that?!
The result shocked me almost more than it impressed me. The three turn to us with flirting smiles flashing to Derek. And me?
That's new. And, of course, I have to blush furiously at that.
"Hey, handsome. Sweet talk, uh?" One of the girls teases Derek while the others giggle.
"I know I can do better, but you make me nervous, sweetheart," Morgan banters as smoothly as the beginning.
And that's it. We have their full attention now. Scratch that; Derek has their full attention now.
He asks for their names, and that's how I know the woman who spoke first is Vivian, and her friends are Julie and Ashley. The three of them work in the Counterterrorism Division.
"And who is your good-looking friend?" Ashley asks, skimming at me.
Why is she looking at me from head to toe?
Derek glances at me, and I understand it's time for me to say something.
"I'm Spencer," I wave.
Short and precise.
"Hi, Spencer. You are cute," Ashley points, and suddenly, my mouth goes dry.
As Emily once said, my IQ slashes to 60 when I'm in front of a beautiful woman. And Ashley is a beautiful woman. Her long, stylish blond hair, blue eyes, tan skin with perfect makeup, gorgeous smile, and a dress that accentuates her body in the right places. It would be stupid to say she is not attractive.
"Why don't we go to the dance floor while Ashley and Spencer get to know each other better, uh?" Derek offers to Julie and Vivian, winking at me.
Oh, Lord. Help me.
I don't think Derek or Ashley would appreciate it if I refused to stay here and run to the nearest exit. So I give Ashley a tight smile and prepare myself for whatever comes now.
"Well...?" she prompts, and I don't know what the fuck she expects me to say.
"Yeah. Nice party," I offer, hoping my attempt to small talk works.
Ashley's smile suggests it does.
"It is. Are you having fun?"
No.
"Yes! A lot! Are you?"
"Yeah. But I think it turns out better now," she says, subtly closing some distance between us with a playful look directed at me.
Is she flirting with me?
I clear my throat to appease some of my nerves. I need to cool off. If Derek can do this, I should try.
A waitress approaches us and offers some drinks. Ashley picks a glass of wine, and I prefer a flute of champagne. I don't usually drink alcohol, but I need it now.
"Slow down, boy. People would think I make you nervous," Ashley points seductively when she notices how I quickly down the liquid.
My eyes widen when she rests a hand on my chest and leans to whisper in my ear.
"I don't bite. Unless you want me to."
Okay. That sounds very straightforward.
I should feel flattered. An attractive woman is more than insinuating me right now; I barely said anything. But it doesn't feel like that.
Derek surely would tell me, 'Take it and play it, pretty boy,' but I don't feel like it. If we could engage in a kind of conversation, I would feel more comfortable. Don't get me wrong. I know what a potential one-night stand means, but I'm not good at it. That's how I am. Sue me.
I want to turn her down gently, so I do what I know to do, and people usually hate me for it: spit information.
"Compared with other mammals, like dogs and bears, humans don't have the strongest bite. Scientists measure the pressure exerted by an animal's bite in pounds per square inch or psi. The human bite force is 162 psi. The bite force of some dogs can reach 250 psi, while some bears have a bite force of over 1,000 psi. It's interesting, actually-"
Ashley is now looking at me, confused. She retreats his hand from my chest and hums, faking interest in what I'm saying.
As I go on with my info dump, I notice how Ashley changes her empty glass of wine to a filled one when a server offers it.
Aside from 'interesting,' 'oh,' and 'uhm,' she doesn't add more to the conversation - or more likely, my rambling - and by now, you would think she's tired of me. But no. For God knows what reason, she is persistent. I give her that.
Typically, I can ramble on and on, which is not the exception. The waiters and waitresses keep coming with drinks and food, and even I pick some for myself.
When they offer us a tray with oysters, I can't help but recall what Morgan told me before.
As I see Ashley ushering one to her mouth, I deliver an exciting fact about it.
"Did you know that raw oysters are still alive? Indeed, some people argue oysters might feel pain, and others say that because they don't have a central nervous system, they don't feel pain like other seafood species might."
Not looking at her, I focus on my oyster, inspecting it before continuing.
"If it's that so, the question is when they die actually. This is likely to happen when they are shucked rather than when they are chewed or swallowed. Scientists think this because an oyster's heart is right next to the bottom adductor muscle, so separating it from the shell kills it."
I should have known the lack of response wasn't due to the interest in the topic, although speaking was impossible for her. Her face's blueness and her hand on her neck now tell me something is wrong.
Fuck. She is choking.
I don't know what to do. She is choking on an oyster, and I'm paralyzed. The people around us start to scream as they see her turning blue. That picks everyone's attention, and I want to dig a hole to get into right now. But first, I should do something to help her. Before I can reach for her, a pair of arms hugs Ashley from behind and applies the Heimlich Maneuver. After a few thrusts into the abdominal area, we see the oyster fly from her mouth to somewhere on the floor.
At the same time, Vivian, Julie, and Derek rush to us to find out what is going on.
Ashley starts coughing, and some of her natural color returns to her face. The arms around her torso loosen, and that's when I notice the woman who just saved her life from choking.
Everything happens so fast that I barely register the slap across my face—Ashley's courtesy.
A collective 'Uhhh' is heard around us.
Before I can say anything, Ashley starts a rant full of anger and frustration toward me.
"Are you fucking crazy? Why would you say something like that? It's disgusting!"
Ironically, I'm speechless now.
What is wrong with talking about oysters?
"You fucking weird!" Ashley continues with her rant. It's like she has been holding it since we were left alone.
The woman who helped Ashley now looks between me and her with her eyebrow creased.
"Hey. You should take it easy. You're just recovering from-" 
She can't finish the sentence since Ashley turned to lash out at her.
"Don't fucking tell me what to do! I almost died because of this pathetic nerd here who can't stop rambling about alive oysters! Just thinking about it makes me sick again!"
"Could it be a hint for not eating them anymore?" I muse, gaining a chuckle from the woman - let's call her the savior - and a deadly glare from Ashley. I recoil from saying anything else, and it is the wiser.
"I should have known better than to engage my time with you. Even if you actually pack a big dick, it doesn't worth it!" she whisper-yell at me, but loud enough for Derek, Vivian, Julie, and the mystery-savior woman to hear.
I'm utterly confused and embarrassed. What have to do my dick with all of this? 
Derek is now dispersing the crowd around us as Vivian and Julie try to soothe her friend's anger, rubbing her back and arm.
I bet they see Ashley's wrath boiling and the high probability of her launching towards me to punch me. Their efforts to subdue her seem to work because, after a loud huff, Ashley only grabs her coat from Vivian's hand and spits at me: "Thanks for ruining my night!"
The three pass by my side to one of the exits venue.
I don't even know how I should feel.
I feel upset because my escape plan didn't go as planned. I feel relieved because Ashley didn't die. Hurt? Yeah, that, too. I didn't deserve a slap on my face. She calling me a pathetic nerd? Sadly, I'm not surprised. And it only confirms my theory I'm not good at this kind of setting.
With the show over and people not focused on me anymore, Derek approaches. I know what he wants to say, but I don't want to hear it. I'm done for tonight.
"Don't say it," I cut him off.
"I wasn't gonna say anything," he tells me with a sympathetic look, holding his hands up in surrender.
"Sure you not," I grumble. "And what was about that comment about my… dick?" I whisper to him.
Derek's face tries to remain neutral, but I know him better.
"What did you do?" I demand to Morgan, and he sighs.
"I may or may not have suggested a rumor about your attributes."
I look at him in disbelief.
"Shut the fuck up! You did not!"
"Come on, pretty boy. It worked! You caught their attention, didn't you?"
I shake my head, trying not to snap at him in public. Morgan can see the distress I'm carrying right now and relents.
"I'm sorry, Reid. I thought it would be a good chance for you to show yourself around. You're a good kid; you deserve to have a good time."
It's useless to engage in this argument again. I understand his good intentions, but like this? No, thanks.
"I better get going," I mumble, walking backward. I'm done for the night.
"Reid..." Morgan starts, but the shake of my head cuts him off. He sighs as I turn to head to one of the exits.
Walking through one of the venue's doors, I find myself on a lateral terrace. I stop for a moment to look around. 
If there were different circumstances, I would be enjoying this view. To the front, you can see a beautiful and thick green shrubbery. Several fountains with little waterfalls and statues recreate a neoclassical garden. It is no coincidence since the property where the venue is located is a typical Jefferson's Neo-Palladian construction with high ceilings and large columns.
My architectural appreciation stops when my eyes land on a woman with her back leaning against one of the columns, her left hand resting on the concrete railing, and her right hand with a glass of wine. Her face is turned to the side, and she is observing the beautiful garden in front of her.
I know her. I've seen her before.
Although it is dark outside, the light from the venue's long windows illuminates the terrace enough.
My brain comes up with the answer in a fraction of a second.
Is the woman who saved Ashley from choking. 
After what she did, nobody even thanked her. The worst part is knowing Ashley behaved that poorly with her. It's not fair. And it's my fault.
With that in mind, I approach her.
She seems too concentrated to register I'm just a foot of distance from her. I clear my throat to call her attention.
She turns her head with a confused look at first. But she offered me a kind smile when she realized who I was.
It's my first chance to look at her; with everything happening so fast, I barely noticed her trying to talk back to Ashley moments ago. 
And now that I'm in front of her, I feel weirdly struck.
Besides her beautiful smile, her eyes hold a piercing gaze, but not the kind that frightens you. It's more like she actually sees you and gives you her undivided attention. With light makeup, her face lets you see some of her freckles. With her hair tied to one side, you can see her neck adorned with a simple gold chain with a compass-shaped pendant.
My not-so-subtle scrutiny is interrupted by her voice.
"Can I help you?" She asks, and my cheeks turn pink. But I'm here for a reason, so I clear my throat before speaking.
"Sorry. I - uh. I'm sorry for bothering you, but I wanted to thank you. For what you did back there," I say, pointing to the inside. "And, well, I want to apologize too. Ashley wasn't very kind to you, considering you mostly saved her life."
She tilts her head slightly, a frown forming, while contemplating what to say.
"Well," she starts. "I'll take the thanks. But I can't take the apologies."
Now, it's my turn to frown.
"Oh, okay. Uh - Why not?"
Not that she should do it. It's her right to do it or not, but I'm curious.
"Because you didn't do anything wrong to me, so you don't have to," she shrugs, like it's obvious.
"I kind of did. I mean, Ashley behaved awful, and I didn't -"
Before I can continue, she shakes her head to stop me.
"No. Don't do that. Why on earth do you want to apologize for someone else's bad manners, considering she treated you like garbage?"
She doesn't say it as if she is upset at me, more likely as if she doesn't understand why I would do that. And yes, she has a good point. But someone has to do the right thing, and that's what I say next.
"It's just the right thing to do."
She takes her time, mulling over my words and whether she believes me or not.
"Okay. You're correct. It's the right to do. And it's a shame most people don't do it. But I still believe it is not your responsibility here."
Something is telling me her statement concerns more than Ashley being impolite. But it is not my place to point that.
"But some people do. And that must count as something, I guess. "
It's curious how her look changes from pensive to more light-hearted.
"Okay. You win this time..." she trails off, not knowing how to refer to me.
"Spencer," I supply. She hums.
"You win this time, Spencer. And being that said, I accept your apology too," she added, sipping the remaining wine from her glass.
I smile, nodding appreciatively. It's a little gesture, but I feel better after what happened.
Silence settles between us, and I take that as my cue to leave. I had already taken enough of her time.
"Uh, well. Thank you again..."
I trail off, realizing I don't know her name.
"(Y/N)," she says.
"Thank you again, (Y/N). Hope you enjoy the rest of your night."
With that said, I should get on foot to leave the venue, as I had planned to do ten minutes ago, but for some reason, my feet didn't want to move, and I kept standing there. (Y/N) look at me as if I'm going to say something else due to the lack of movement on my part.
"Are you okay?" she asks, and now I have the same question for myself.
"Yeah. Yeah. Totally okay. Sorry, I'm leaving now."
Turning in my heels, I'm about to walk away when I hear (Y/N) 's voice.
"I didn't know that, you know? And, for the record, I didn't think it was disgusting."
I stop in my tracks to look at her with a raised eyebrow. When I catch what she is referring to, my eyes cast to the floor, and my cheeks turn pink again.
"If anything, I found it educative," she adds. I try to decipher if there is some teasing in her words, but I find none. She's being oddly genuine. Oddly, because I'm not used to people saying that when referring to the things I tend to ramble about.
"Thank you," I sheepishly say, my hands finding home in my pant pockets. "People don't tell me that very often."
A puff leaves (Y/N) 's lips before she says, "Ungrateful fuckers." 
I chuckle at her choice of words.
Weird. It's the first time all night that I don't want to run away from here.
"Yeah. Something like that," I agree, and she smiles. Now I'm comfortable enough to make some conversation.
"Uh, are you from Quantico?"
"Yeah. A very adrenalinal position," she prompts, and I raise an eyebrow. "Finance Division."
I can't help but snort, and she laughs. "I told you. What about you?"
"Behavioral Unit Analysis," I reply. (Y/N)' s eyes wide in recognition.
"Wow. The one and only BAU."
"You know us?"
"Sure. I wouldn't forget a unit that has its own jet. I'm the one who enters the travel expenses from all Quantico," she explains. I hum, trying to figure out the amplitude of that sole task. "Like I told you, very exciting."
She is mocking herself regarding her job. But I find it impressive for a desk job. Not all people have the skills to run financials.
"Well, I agree it is not very adrenaline but very important. I mean, we have to travel around the country all the time. Our job depends on traveling."
(Y/N) has now an amused expression on her face.
"It's nice to know someone truly values what you do. Not even our boss does it," she points before letting a deep sigh escape from her lips. "Gosh, I'm being very judgmental right now. You're going to think I spend my life complaining about everything. I do sometimes, but I'm not always like this," she explains. I shake my head.
"I'm not judging you. Everyone has the right to say what things don't like or would change about their jobs."
"Well, thanks. Although I'm sure you guys have more reasons to be concerned. You risk your life on the field every time. That's huge."
She rests the empty glass on the concrete rail, adjusting her coat around her body. The air is chiller at this time of the night.
"You know? People say that a lot. And I agree. It's a dangerous job, but it's not better than anyone's for that reason, or whatever another reason for that matter.
Her eyes are analyzing me with curiosity. I'm not sure, but it's like she's having difficulty believing what I'm saying.
"Can I ask you something, Spencer?"
"Sure."
"Why are you here tonight?"
My eyes narrow at her question. Isn't the reason obvious?
"What do you mean? It's the FBI annual gala," I point out, knowing she already knows that too. She nods.
"Precisely," she starts. "And at the risk of being impertinent, I can say this environment makes you uncomfortable. When you were with that girl talking - scratch that, when you were talking, and she looked at you, trying to devour you with her eyes - you seemed like you didn't want to be there. Above all, knowing this kind of event is basically to show off to other bureau agents, I don't think is your notion of an ideal night."
If I wasn't impressed when we started talking - which I was - I am now. 
She assumes my awe as discomfort.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to overstep."
"No, no. You are okay. And let me tell you, your observation is completely accurate," I hasten to clarify.
"Yeah?" (Y/N) asks, and I nod earnestly.
"Yeah. Have you not considered applying for a position as a field agent?"
An amused laugh leaves her lips.
"No way! I would be a total disaster! And carrying a gun is not my idea of a dream job anymore," she points out, still laughing. 
I chuckle, but her answer makes me think. Before I can ask for clarification, she calls me out.
"Hey, you didn't answer my question."
I didn't, although the answer is simple.
"My boss made me."
(Y/N) scoff in disbelief.
"What? Did he put a gun against your chest?"
Well, thinking better about it, maybe the answer is not that simple.
"Not quite, but you can say I felt it that way."
I tell (Y/N) how my team always worries about my lack of social interaction, which isn't that accurate if you ask me. However, some of the pressure of doing things that people my age would generally do is finally getting me and pushing me out of my comfort zone.
She listens to me with undivided attention and seems to understand what I'm talking about.
"Peer pressure, uh? I can relate to that to some extent," she agrees.
"That's why are you here tonight, too?"
My question makes her let out a deep sigh as her eyes focus on the garden beside us for a second.
"Not really. Who knows, maybe I do enjoy being here?"
(Y/N) phrases it more like a question than a statement. And I can tell she doesn't believe it either.
"Enjoying being apart from the crowd, in a lateral terrace barely illuminated and exposed to the chilly night air? I can think of several other places to do the same thing without the trouble of a gala environment."
Her cheeks turn a shade of pink, which tells me I'm right.
"Not fair, you are a certified profiler," (Y/N) complains, faking annoyance.
"And you haven't answered my question either," I remind her. She rolls her eyes playfully.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Well, let's say I came here to prove myself something. Spoiler alert: I failed. That's why I have been mostly spending the night here."
I hum, knowing she is vague in explaining, but I'm not in a place to pry.
"Look, I would tell you more about it, but I'm sure you have to return inside. Your teammates are surely wondering where you are."
I can't help but snort, and she raises an eyebrow at my reaction.
"I'm sorry, but your assumption is far from reality. Considering what happened inside, they think I ran home. What I was actually doing before spotting you here," I admit.
"Ha! So it's true I'm holding you back but for a different motive," she triumphantly concludes.
"I didn't say that!" I complain with a hint of exasperation, to which she breathly laughs.
"I know. I know. I'm messing with you. Honestly? There are two reasons why I'm avoiding this topic right now. First, I don't think you want to hear the mess my life is these days, and second, I would kill for a coffee and a sandwich-" she pauses, stifling a chuckle before continuing. "Considering oysters are out of the table."
"Oh, come on!" I groan, seeing how she falls into a fit of laughter, so contagious that I can't help but join her.
"Sorry, sorry. Not very kind of me, I know. But I couldn't help it," she apologizes, still giggling. I bit my lower lip in amusement.
"Alright. It's okay. It's frankly funny," I admit, my words leaving my mouth before I can think of them. "Well, I could tell you more of those moments in my life - many of them - if you let me join you with the coffee and sandwich. I know a good place that is open at this hour. And you can tell me what kind of thing you wanted to prove yourself tonight."
Spencer Reid. Is that you? 
I'm surprised by my sudden confidence, and it seems (Y/N) is, too. She hums, scrubbing her fingers under her chin while contemplating my offer.
"Okay, I'll take it. But don't tell me later that I didn't warn you about the mess of my life," she points her index finger at me.
"I won't. I promise."
-
Grabbing a cab is relatively easy since the FBI considered transportation outside the venue for people who won't be driving.
The fifteen-minute ride allows us to have a light conversation. That's how I know (Y/N) has been in the bureau for almost four years. Being an Accountant by profession and with a Master of Science in Finance from Georgetown, she was recruited for the FBI precisely considering her outstanding skills in the financial department.
She asks me about my trajectory in the FBI as well. I tell her about Gideon and the start of my life at the BAU.
Arriving at our destination, I insist on paying for the ride despite her resistance. I assured her that she could invite me to the coffee.
It must be a curious image for the patrons to see two fully gala-dressed people stepping inside a diner at eleven pm.
We sit on a bench facing each other.
A girl who can't hide her curious expression comes to take our order. As promised, (Y/N) asks for two coffees and two sandwiches.
"So, Agent Gideon recruited you for the FBI. Why did you accept? I would have thought you would be more comfortable in academics," (Y/N) asks, stirring a spoon of sugar in her coffee.
"I thought the same at the time. But Gideon saw something I didn't. He knew I wouldn't settle with learning and teaching for the rest of my life, and I needed it to be useful beyond that environment."
I explain how profiling has helped us to catch unsubs around the country and how worthy it is for me. I can't think of myself doing anything else. (Y/N) listen to me with raptor interest; it is nice to be heard that way.
"You know? I haven't heard someone speak passionately about their work in a long time. It's good you feel that way," she says with a hint of longing that doesn't go unnoticed by me.
"It is bold of me to assume you don't like what you do?"
Maybe I'm overstepping, but I'm curious. And (Y/N) doesn't seem bothered by my question. Shifting in her seat, she leans, resting her elbows on the table.
"Not bold at all, mister profiler," she teases. "But not always has been that way. I would say I started to feel uncomfortable not long ago. A couple of months, perhaps?"
I hum, thinking about what could have made her feel that way.
"It has to do with why you were at the gala tonight?"
She chuckles, nodding.
"Kind of. Remember I told you I wanted to prove myself something? Well, it has to do with what has been bothering me," she prefaces.
(Y/N) relates how things have gone well since she got into the FBI. She felt respected, wanting to do many things and learn everything she could. 
That's how she met her boyfriend.
"I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship, much less at work. I wanted to be professional, separating my private life from my job. But he was so attentive and supportive. He always told me he was happy I felt fulfilled with what I was doing. He was so perfect I thought I had found my soulmate."
I don't know exactly where she is going, but sure as hell, that prick wasn't her soulmate.
"What happened?"
"One day, I wasn't good enough for him anymore. After two years of relationship, he started with harsh comments and criticism about everything I did and didn't do."
A humorless chuckle escapes her lips.
"I should have noticed. By then, he was promoted from desk duty and junior trainee to field agent. He had always wanted it, and I felt so happy for him. But that changed everything."
(Y/N) tells me about how her boyfriend stopped listening to her, and instead, every topic of conversation turned to his job, implying - sometimes saying it explicitly - that it was more important than hers.
"It's not only the fact we stopped communicating; it was realizing how low he thought about me and my accomplishments. At first, I tried to understand. Of course, he was dazed by this new life, full of danger and adrenaline. I could understand it. But when he started comparing me to his female colleagues and the things they were doing, way more important than the ones I was doing, it made me insecure."
(Y/N) takes time to collect her thoughts, sipping the remaining coffee from the cup.
"The insecurities got the best of me. At some point, I just wanted to run away and leave it all behind. I knew it was irrational, but I believed him. I even thought about changing my career and training to be a field agent. Good thing we broke up before I could do that," she admits.
"What stopped you? I mean, like you're telling this, you were going to change for him," I ask. She cast her gaze, averting mine. Her cheeks turn pink.
"I don't like to admit it, but the reason we broke up wasn't because I realized how stupid the situation was. We broke up because he cheated on me. I discovered it two months ago, breaking the camel's back."
Fuck. That prick was not meant to be her soulmate. And I feel the urge to have one or two words with him right now.
"I'm sorry." It's the only thing I manage to say. (Y/N) shakes her head.
"Nah. If anything, I'm glad it happened. Even if it broke my heart."
"He was at the gala, right?" (Y/N) nods.
"With the coworker that he chose to cheat on me. His current girlfriend."
Everything makes perfect sense now. (Y/N) was trying to prove to herself that the wound had healed. And from what she said earlier, it didn't turn that way.
She bitterly chuckles.
"Yeah. It's pathetic, I know."
Spencer, do something.
"No! It's not. Unfortunately, cheating is not uncommon, particularly in men. In 2020, IFS released a report stating that 20% of men have admitted to cheating, and only 10% have. In 2021, the Health Testing Centers asked 441 people who admitted infidelity to their partners and asked how long it took for them to tell their partners about it. 47.7% of the respondents told their partner within a week that they'd cheated. 26.6% of those have waited for a month, and 25.7% took six months or longer to tell their partner about the infidelity. And 60% of them said the affair started in a work environment."
And then again, the rambling. But instead of giving me a blank look, (Y/N) seems to consider what I just said.
"Maybe I shouldn't feel so bad about it then. Anyway, it hasn't been easy to get out of this. I thought going to the gala and forcing myself to see them together would be enough to get a closure," she reflects.
"But it still hurts," I supply, making (Y/N) hum.
"Yeah. I'm not ready, and it sucks. Not for him, but for me. I hate feeling so out of place, so dissatisfied with everything," (Y/N) retorts, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.
Her eyes look sad, and I want to do something to fix it, although I know that nothing I can say would be enough. Maybe joking will at least get her off the topic.
"And there I was talking about oysters all night," I sigh, feigning disapproval. Genuine laughter escapes her lips.
I didn't know that making her laugh could fill my heart so much with satisfaction.
"That's life," she adds, now checking the time on her cell phone. "I think I'll get going," she announces, collecting her things and preparing to stand.
"Can I walk you home? It's very late already," I ask.
"Oh no, don't worry about me. My building is not far from here."
I know she doesn't want to cause trouble, but it makes me uneasy about what could happen to her walking alone at this hour.
Thank you, BAU.
"Please?" I insist. (Y/N) raises an eyebrow.
"Aren't you already fed up with me?" she asks curiously.
"Non yet," I grin.
Not having the energy to put up a fight, she accepts my offer, and after paying the bill, we leave the restaurant.
The night is colder now, and both of us walk in silence with our hands in our pockets.
I can't know what exactly she's thinking, but at least I can't stop thinking about tonight. For someone like me, it's hard to fall into spontaneity, but with (Y/N), it wasn't a problem. That amazes me, and I like it at the same time.
When she stops walking, I get out of my thoughts.
"Here," she says, looking at the building we are standing by. "Thank you for walking with me," (Y/N) states, smiling. It's the same warm smile she offered when I found her on the venue's terrace a couple of hours ago.
"Of course. It's the less I could do."
And I mean it. She saved my night in so many ways she doesn't even know.
"Well, I need to say it was a pleasure to share this shit of a night with you and turned it less shitty," she says, grinning and satisfied with her remark.
I laugh at her statement. I couldn't have said it better.
"Thank you. It's the best compliment I have had in a long time," I joke, making (Y/N) giggle.
"You are welcome."
I have the question on the tip of my tongue. I would love to see her again, but what if she doesn't think it's worth it? I opt for the vaguest thing that comes to mind.
"See you around?"
(Y/N) thinks about it for a moment. Am I being too obvious? Before falling into a spiral, she smiles at me again.
"Yeah, sure. Why not."
I can't help but feel the excitement pouring from me.
"Great! Well, I - I'll go now. Good night (Y/N)," I say goodbye, slowly walking backward.
"Good night, Spencer," she retorts before entering the building.
I watch her disappear behind the door, and I think that while neither of us got what we wanted, maybe we got what we needed.
-------------
Next -> Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t
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A/N 2: I'm excited to know your thoughts about this!
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity
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jayke0 · 1 month
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Bunk Up
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Summary: Arthur invites you on a hunting trip, but you foolishly forget your tent. No harm done, you can bunk up with him, right?
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: a deer gets killed (camp's gotta eat), female masturbation, dry humping, fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 3,132
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.
…………......................………………………………….
Why in god's green earth had you agreed to go on this hunting trip again?
Oh yeah, because you have a hard-on for Arthur Morgan… figuratively, that is.
It'd be alright if you could just tell him your feelings, but you'd prided yourself on liking more respectable, more rich men in the past; that's the easiest way to make a living, at the end of the day. You'd originally intended to go for the gang leader, but that man is oblivious and stubborn as hell, not to mention not actually rich, much to your displeasure.
Then Arthur had introduced himself to you. His stupid snarky remarks and silly outfits and disgustingly beautiful eyes all seemed to merge together into this gorgeous man that loomed in front of you and had your knees almost buckling.
Even worse, he'd noticed the way your demeanour changed and how your body seemed to crumble under the weight of his soft eyes.
“Hey! Are you even listenin’ to me?” His gruff voice breaks you from your trance.
“ ‘course I am, I always listen to your wise words, Mr Morgan.” You remark, looking up at him from the position you'd had your eyes trained on seconds ago. “Yeah, sure.” You feel his rough fingertips turn your chin back towards the deer in front of you, a gesture that makes heat rise in your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears.
“Take the shot, you got a perfect shot there, can't miss it.”
The cold varnished wood cools your warm cheeks as you bring it close to your face and grit your teeth.
“Always shoot on empty lungs.” His whisper sends shivers down your spine before you take the shot, a loud crack echoing through the trees as a clatter of birds ascends into the sky.
“You did good! That was perfect.” A soft grunt leaves his throat as he gets up and checks the prey. “Think Pearson will make a good meal outta this,” his eyes then meet yours. “Good girl.” he tips his hat to you.
Damn Arthur Morgan, with that shit eating grin that makes your stomach flutter.
“You know I ain't one for pickin’ on people–” Arthur starts, shoveling chunks of peaches in his mouth, “but I don't think I've ever seen someone forget their tent on a huntin’ trip.”
“Ok, for one, you're always picking on people, ‘specially if you don't like ‘em. And for two… just– shut the hell up.” You pull your coat tighter around your body to shield yourself from the cold rain drizzling down your neck, the soft fur bringing you some warmth and comfort to your otherwise shaking body.
“Easy girl, don't be gettin’ mad at me now. Besides, it means you get to share a tent with me, ain't that a dream?” A simple grumble from you makes the man chuckle lowly. “I won't take that personally.”
It was a dream, and you hated admitting that.
Luckily, you'd remembered your bed roll, so at least you didn't have to snuggle up under the cotton sheets with your rugged partner… but, admittedly, a small part of you is disappointed at that.
You try to forget about those thoughts that are festering in the back of your mind and making you squeeze your legs together, but as the cold seeps into your bones and makes yourself huddle further into the sheets, you find yourself backing up against the warm body behind you.
The soft rustle of trees keeps you awake, at least that's what you tell yourself at first, not wanting to give into those filthy images of the cowboy flashing behind your eyelids.
Soon, all too soon for your liking, you find yourself panting. It's barely audible, but it's enough to make yourself embarrassed and look back at the outlaw peacefully sleeping behind you, unaware of the pictures you have playing on loop in your head. It makes you bite your lip; the thought of touching yourself right next to the man you've been meaning to tell your feelings to for months.
Quietly and carefully, you slide your hand over your body and between your legs, rubbing your already damp cunt over the fabric of your underwear. The feeling makes you grit your teeth much like earlier, and a small noise sneaks past your lips. You look back at Arthur again to see his chest still rising and falling slowly… fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?
Your hand slips into your underwear before you're even registering it. It's too cold to take the blanket off, or even your underwear for that matter, so you just run your fingers through your wet folds under the thin fabric. The slick noise it makes sounds too loud in the quiet forest, but at this point you're pretty sure the man is asleep, so you continue teasing yourself.
Your fingers circle your hole as you imagine it being his thick digits instead, or maybe even his tongue, since he's usually so quick with it. Another wet noise fills the tent when your fingers slide inside your needy cunt, buried to your knuckles as you massage that glorious spot inside you. When you pick up the pace, and the noises get louder, you're practically praying, wishing it was Arthur's fingers instead. They'd stretch you wide and fuck you good, the thought makes you shove some of the blanket in your mouth.
You're teetering on the edge at this point, scanning your brain for that final image that'll send you descending down the cliff… but a thick arm wrapping around your waist has you freezing in place.
“What have we got here?” Arthur's low, sleepy voice has the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, raising goosebumps all over your body as if he'd just ripped the sheets from your body.
“Arthur!–shit, I'm sorry–." You start, but his nose pressing against the back of your neck makes you stop in your tracks.
“I ain't judgin’ you, girl. We've all got our urges, desires.” He shuffles up closer to you, closing in on your body till his chest is pressed against your back, and his crotch is angled perfectly against your thighs. “Just wanted to know what you were thinkin’ about.”
God, his voice is so soft and low, it could make you fall asleep if your fingers weren't still knuckle deep inside yourself. “I–uhm…” Should you admit it? With the way he's pressing against you, it makes you think you should.
“You.”
“ ‘s that so? And why ain't you told me about this before, sweetheart?” His breath is hot on the back of your neck, pushing out any coldness that was left in your body as his large hand splays across your stomach and strokes your soft skin.
A huff escapes your nose a little louder than you expected. “Because… I'm embarrassed, I don't wanna be thinking about you like this.” You mumble ashamedly, but as those words leave your lips, you start moving your fingers inside your cunt again; a ‘come hither’ motion that makes you bite your lip to contain your noises.
“Oh, that ain't very nice. You ain't exactly a saint ya'self, Darlin’.”
Fuck, the way his words roll off his tongue makes you roll against your hand with a soft noise.
The action must've pleased Arthur, because he lets out a pant and presses his hips closer to yours, grinding in tandem with you as your hips roll on your fingers.
This feels so strange and wrong, but you aren't sure why. It's not like Arthur is married or even has a girl, he's just as lonely as you, and maybe that's exactly why you're so drawn to each other.
“Mmm, been dreamin’ ‘bout this for months, pressing against you like this.” He groans softly. His chin is placed neatly on your shoulder, cheek pressing against yours as his stubble itches your skin. He feels so warm and big behind you, like he's shielding you from any and every burden, and as his hips rock against yours more, you can't help but do the same. You grind back on him with short, soft pants, tilting your head to just get a glimpse of his blissed out face.
“When was the last time you did something like this, cowboy? You're acting like you're gonna cum in your night clothes.”
That makes a soft chuckle leave his red lips, flushed face pulling away from yours to look down at you.
“Long enough to be needin’ you.”
His words make you shiver, but he's quick to distract you with his hand taking your wrist and swatting your hand away.
“Lemme do it for you, sweetheart, please?”
Before your brain can even question or think about it, your body is telling him yes, your head nodding almost instantly. His fingers are quick to dive into your under garments and slide through your slick folds, a groan from him ringing in your ears.
“Dammit girl, you must have one hell of an imagination to make ya'self this wet… Jesus.” He grunts, looking down at his hand in your underwear with only the dim light of the lantern making your skin glow.
“I always get like this when I think of you, Arthur.” You tell him as your hand wraps around his wrist. “You're the only one that can make me cum.” You moan in his ear, making him dive his fingers into your needy cunt.
The stretch is wonderful, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel it, and it's just how you expected, if not better. His thick digits curl and glide over your walls until he finally feels you squirm against him as they touch that delicious spot.
“Yeah? You like it there, darlin’? Want me to keep goin’?”
Again, your body simply speaks for you, nodding quickly and grinding down on his fingers. You feel him grind his hips against you again, his body seemingly wanting to get impossibly closer to you as he ruts against your ass.
“You're such a pretty girl, y'know that? Been waitin’ to tell you that since the day we met.” He rests his chin on your arm so he can peck the exposed skin and continue curling his fingers inside you.
The tent is once again filled with the filthy sounds of your hole taking two fingers, sloppy wet sounds that would make you feel ashamed if it didn't feel so fucking good. It feels like all your nerves are being stroked at once, each time his fingers brush against your tummy or stroke your walls feels like you can't get enough of the electricity that runs through your body. You grip his thick arm, looking back at him as moans fall from your lips.
“You're damn good… shit.” You whimper as he looks up at you, big round eyes meeting yours to show he's there.
“Well, I appreciate that, comin’ from you.” He chuckles lightly, his own words breathy while his hips start to snap a little faster and become sloppy. “You gotta lemme feel this cunt for myself, please sweetheart, lemme feel this cunt clench around my cock.”
You find it hard to stop rocking your hips when he's talking to you like that, but eventually you take a deep breath and stop yourself. His fingers slip out of you with a lewd sound, and you feel him shuffle to get his night clothes off.
Your own are gone within seconds, your body too hot and needy to worry about if you'd thrown them outside to the wolves to get torn to shreds, all you can focus on is the man behind you.
As much as this position made you wet before, you desperately want to see his handsome face, even if it is barely visible. So, you flip onto your other side and rest your hands on his chest, the warmth spreading through your fingers. You can practically feel his excitement buzzing off of him and through your body, and it makes you giggle a little. “Jesus, you really ain't done this in a while, have you?”
“Not with a girl as pretty as you, sweetheart.” One hand slides over your cheek while his other finally gets his clothes off.
Just his tone alone makes your cheeks heat up, but as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself taking in a breath of surprise. It's easy to melt into his arms and get lost in the feeling of his lips; they're surprisingly soft and sweet, and they feel like they fit perfectly on yours.
You're so swept up that it takes you a second to notice his hand snaking around the back of your knee and pulling your hips closer to himself.
That's when you feel it.
His length rests against your slick pussy lips, your leg now cocked over his waist to get him close. It feels bigger than you expected, thicker than you expected, it makes you whine softly on his lips.
You hate his little grin that you feel spread across his face. “Impatient, ain't you?” He teases, slowly rocking his hips against yours to let his cock slide through your sopping folds. His tip manages to butt against your clit each time, making you furrow your brows and moan softly on his lips.
Your hand is still resting on his cheek as you feel him push in for the first time, and god are you glad you're holding onto your bedroll with the other, because the stretch and the way he fills you makes you almost cum on the spot, a loud moan spilling from your lips to make you whimper embarrassedly.
“Oh sweetheart, don't be embarrassed. I love the noises you're makin’ for me, they're makin’ me so goddamn hard, can you do it again for me?” He asks as he pulls his hips back before sliding inside your warm, slick walls again.
You're quick to oblige to his plea, your body automatically reacting with a soft choked moan at the surprise of his thick cock stretching you once again. You can feel his calloused fingers still gripping the back of your knee to hold your leg up, giving him the perfect angle for his length to hit every nerve you have inside you and send sparks of arousal up your spine.
“Thaaat’s a good girl, look at'chu.” The man purrs, his warm breath making your eyes flutter shut so you can focus on his cock spearing you with each slow, deep thrust.
“Holy shit, Arthur, f–feels like you're splitting me in half.” You moan as your hands slide over his thick biceps and along his broad shoulders, finding that the perfect place for you to grip on for dear life too.
Arthur groans before leaning forward to press a kiss on the top of your head as he pants softly. “Biggest you've had, huh? Never felt somethin’ like this inside you, have you?” He doesn't accept the simple shake of your head, instead giving you a sharp thrust that has your nails dig into his flesh and a whimper spill from your lips. “No! No, I haven't… I love it, dammit, I love your cock.”
Something inside him seems to click as you say those words, a long moan slipping from his throat as his grip becomes tighter on your leg to pull you closer to him, his cock burying deeper inside you. He doesn't give you time to adjust before his hips are colliding with yours and the sounds of both your arousal soaked thighs are filling your ears and sending waves of pleasure from your head to your toes.
“Listen to those filthy noises, girl, that's all you. That's your wet cunt..” Arthur manages to moan out. He tilts his head down to watch your hips connecting, his head resting against your collar bones. “What a pretty cunt it is too… shit, I ain't ever felt somethin’ as good as this, miss.” His words seem to roll off of his tongue with ease, as if he's a erotic poet reciting the words he's scrawled down on the page. Maybe it has something to do with that journal he's writing in all the time… lord above how you'd love to read that.
“For you, Mr Morgan,” you blabber without even thinking about the words coming from your mouth. “I'm all for you, want you to take me like this over and over–.” It's funny how worked up you get over your own words, but it seems to have an even better effect on Arthur.
His brows knit together as his jaw hangs open a little, and dirty blonde strands of hair fall in his face and stick to his forehead perfectly.
“Shit, girl, you're gonna make me finish inside you if you keep talkin’ like that…” The man groans, his lip finding its way between his teeth to give him something to chew on. Somehow, his thrusts get faster, impossibly better as you feel the molten heat spread through your body and up to your throat to make you moan his name, along with any other expletives that come to mind.
Before you can stop yourself, you're saying dangerous words that, with any other man, would be like handing a loaded gun to a baboon.
“I want you to do that Arthur! Please– please cum inside me–” Your entire body tenses up before you come crashing down, whaling and grasping onto him for dear life as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm and make sharp thrusts that have you whimpering loudly. Your walls clench him tightly in pulsing rhythm, driving him closer and closer to the edge.
It's only a few more seconds before he's tearing his body away from yours and fisting himself, white ropes shooting all over your tummy as groans and growls rumble in his chest and his head throws back.
You watch the whole scene in front of you in awe, as if you're at the goddamn theatre watching a play… no, it's better than that. You'd never had time for the theatre, but you always have time for Arthur, despite how he gets on your nerves sometimes.
You smile softly at him as he lifts his head to look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he leans forward and pecks your lips.
“Hey, what's with the grin?” You huff softly and hit his chest playfully.
“Nothin’ just been waitin’ for you to admit your feelin's for me for a while now.”
An annoyed growl leaves your lips as you feel your face heat up with embarrassment, burying it in his chest instead to save you from his teasing.
“Shut the hell up, Morgan…”
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kooeater · 9 months
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kissy face | JJK
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Jungkook x reader
smut | fluff
warnings: slight innocence, childhood besties, dry humping, pet names, kissing, making out, assume legal age, inexperienced, virgins, walk in, rich kids, explicit, language, whinnying, slight teasing, top!reader, bottom!jk, crying jk
"you sure best friends are allowed to do this?" Jungkook whispers in your ear as you tell him that you want to plant kisses on his face with a fresh coat of pink gloss.
The idea came up as you were watching a YouTube video about "constantly kissing my boyfriend on the face to see his reaction"
You didn't have a boyfriend, you never really liked a boy like that. You never felt anything for another boy, the only boy you really cared about was Jungkook who just happened to be your childhood best friend.
You two are sitting on your bed, both of your parents away at a fancy dinner while discussing business topics for their multi million dollar company. Maids were making a bit noise downstairs but you didn't mind much since both you and Jungkook were used to house workers since birth.
"Well if the people really like each other they kiss, and we like each other right?" your round eyes sparkle up at Jungkook as you ask him the question. Jungkook blushes softly, he gets shy and looks away, eyes scanning your room.
He looks at the soft pastel pink wallpaper, your shelf full of romantic books you always read, your vanity that had all sorts of makeup and skin care. He notices how all of the products you buy are pink and girly. He looks at all the plushies you had, you were obsessed with plushies, he eyes all your pearl necklaces, you had a ton.
"Yeah I guess we do"
With that your pink tinted glossy lips go on the right side of Jungkooks cheek first, your breast brush against Jungkooks chest making him want to scream. Your lips start to kiss him on every spot of his face, you start to giggle as you find it funny that your lip marks are printed perfectly on your best friends face.
The way your warm vanilla scent becomes stronger whenever your lips are near his face makes his mind frizzy.
"you look so cute!"
you giggle out as you pull away from Jungkooks face. You bring your hand mirror to his face, he looks at the kiss marks you drowned him in. For some reason he was happy to have your marks on his face, he'd walk around in public with your marks on his face and he wouldn't care what others would say.
"what's on your mind koo?" you ask so innocently. Jungkook didn't say anything, instead he smashed his lips against yours. You didn't know how to kiss, and neither did he. Your eyes widen at the fact that your childhood best friend has his lips on yours.
He pulls away, he opens his eyes and sees how you're in shock. He panics at the thought of you getting mad at him but he doesn't say a word. He doesn't know what to say, "oh sorry I really wanted your lips on mines because you're making me feel all these strange feelings" that just sounds all stupid to him.
However...
It wasn't long until you found yourself on Jungkooks lap, making out with him. You didn't know what you were doing but you were doing what your natural intentions were telling you and so was he. Your private part felt a odd sensation, you needed some friction on it so you rocked your hips so Jungkooks growing bulge would rub against your pussy. Both you and Jungkook made whimpering sounds against each others lips.
"Can we do it more? Can.. can you rub yourself on me again. It feels so so good ___ I can't take it! I need it.. I need to feel you on me please please please" Jungkooks whines made your heart skip a beat. He was so cute. He was older, taller, and stronger than you yet he was so soft and cute towards you.
"Yeah of course koo, just be good for me mkay?" you wanted him to be a good boy for you, you wanted him to let you take care of him.
He nods at your words before you quickly get off of his lap and signal him to lay down on your bed. You shove the hello kitty plushies off your bed and make sure Jungkooks head is comfortably laying on your big fluffy king sized pillow, it was a must to have Jungkook feeling well at all times.
Definitely not in the "Women are here to take care of the men!" bullshit kind of way but in the way that even though he's older taller and stronger than you but he's still your baby, he obeys you while you take good care of him.
"you look so beautiful" Jungkook says as you begin to slowly take your clothing off, you're only left in your white top and your white panties with the cute baby pink bow on the front.
"Let me take your shirt off koo" he nods so you take off his over sized black t shirt, leaving him in just his pajama pants.
You could tell Jungkook wasn't wearing any underwear on especially because you can see the outline of his cock so well, so one tug of his pajama pants his penis will be exposed.
You eye his beautiful abs, you've seen some of his abs before but not like this. Your pedicured fingers drag across his abs, he tries to hide his face by turning to the right but you softly grab his face
"Don't. I wanna see you koo, and you want me to do that thing again right?" you ask him, not wanting to make him uncomfortable
"please. I don't want to be rude but stop talking and do it again. I like feeling you so close to me."
It wasn't long when you crawl on Jungkooks laying figure. You're now on top of him, your core pressed against his bulge that was harder than before. You feel your private area grow excessively wet, it was clenching around nothing. You look at Jungkook, his big round eyes look at you with a pleading look. You smile at him before you start to move against him, the whines come out of his lips again. You see the way he closes his eyes, the way his lips part as he lets out soft moans for your ears to drown in.
His hands go to your hips and slightly grips them, something tells you he wants you to move faster. You plant your hands on his chest and move your clothed pussy against his hard bulge faster, you then moan at the way your clit was being simulated by the friction. It wasn't long until you and Jungkook both felt this feeling inside your stomachs, it was like a fire in your lower abdomen.. a good fire.
"Koo.. w-what is going on oh my god!" you screech as you felt yourself release some gooey liquid out of your pussy.
Jungkook saw the way you were slightly shaking on him, how your face twitched, how beautiful you looked when you reached your climax. Soon Jungkook felt himself cream in his pants, his eyes are teary at the pleasure. He sniffles as you wipe the tears off from his face.. he's so cute. At first he thought he pissed himself until he realized it was the same liquid that comes out when he thinks about you at night. What did they call it.. cum? He searched it up but he really didn't understand it much, maybe he'll ask you to look it up with him tomorrow.
"We should do that again" Jungkook says to you, you collapse by him and hug him from his side. He hugs you back, he feels so close to you.. like you two are one.
Your lips found their way back on his lips again, you then felt yourself rub against him again. Jungkook smiled to himself at how much you wanted to feel him, although he was a bit tired he'd put up with you on top of him again.
You and Jungkook were living in the moment you didn't realize 4 adults that happened to be your parents at you door.
"oh my goodness! Were you two.. oh my Jungkookie is all grown up now!" Your eyes widen along with Jungkooks as you both heard his mother's voice.
You look at your doorway and see your father, no emotion on his face.. he doesn't seem angry or sad he just seems unamused. Your mother had her hand over her mouth, Jungkooks father trying not to laugh and Jungkooks mother happy that her son is finally experiencing adulthood with a girl.
You'd expect scolding from both of your parents but really they knew this was going to happen between you two one day, they were childhood best friends themselves, they all used to be friends and now they're married with children.
It was safe to say, you'd be able to giving Jungkook kisses all over his face without hiding it from anyone
-
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🤍�� an: I had fun writing this, it was so cute!! I loved everything about it honestly, I wish I added more smut but also at the same time I wanted this to be very fluffy and cute. Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed!! If you did like and follow me if you feel like it, much love always ~.~
- belle 💋
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eddiernunson · 11 months
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Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+
Master List | Next Part
My best friend tells me that he's a keeper
I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad
I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)
Word Count: 7.5k
Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)
Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.
As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.
“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”
Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”
“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.
“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.
Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.
It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.
Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.
He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.
You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.
It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.
But the feeling just nagged at your skull.
For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.
The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.
“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.
You nod, gritting your teeth.
-
Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.
Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.
As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.
“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.
He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.
“What?”
“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.
You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.
(From what you’ve heard anyway)
Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.
“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”
Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.
“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”
“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”
This helps you very little.
Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.
Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.
“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.
You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.
You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.
“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.
Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.
He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.
“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.
“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.
“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.
“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.
“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.
He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”
You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”
“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.
He could spit on you, and you would thank him.
Oh. That’s…new.
That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.
“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.
“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”
Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.
“Yes.” You affirm.
“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.
“Oh, a mixer.”
“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.
You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.
Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now.  He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”
You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.
He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”
“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.
Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”
The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.
“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”
He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.
That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.
-
The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.
Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.
Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.
But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.
Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.
Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.  
Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.
Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.
You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.
You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”
The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.
“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”
The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.
This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.
Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like
If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.
-
“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.
You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.
When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.
“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.
“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”
“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”
You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.
Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.
You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.
You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”
He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.
“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”
Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.
You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.
“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.
“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.
Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.
Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”
“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”
“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”
His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”
-
Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.
The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.
A church mixer.
He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.
His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.
He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.
Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.
He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.
Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.
He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.
He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.
Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”
The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.
“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.
Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.
Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.
He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.
He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.
A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.
You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.
Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.
Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.
Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.
He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.
-
The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.
 To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.
As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.
Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.
You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.
He rejects it. “Not hungry.”
“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.
“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.
“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.
“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.
“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.
“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.
You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.
Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”
You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.
“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”
This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.
His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”
“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.
“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”
You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”
Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.
“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”
You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”
“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”
You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”
“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.
“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”
“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.
“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.
“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.
“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.
“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”
“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.
“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.
“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.
He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.
You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”
“I-I can’t—”
“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.
You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.
“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.
“Fuck—” you start to protest.
“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.
You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”
“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”
“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”
“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”
“All over your fingers.”
“You gonna lick em clean?”
“Can we share?”
Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”
The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”
Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”
Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.
Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.
As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”
You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.
Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.
“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.
“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.
“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.
Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.
It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.
“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”
“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.
“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”
“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.
“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”
“Gonna be a good slut for me?”
“Yes..I will I promise.”
He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.
Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.
“Move…please?”
“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.
“Fuck. Sorry.”
He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”
You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”
You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.
Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.
“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.
His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”
You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.
“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.
“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.
“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.
Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.
Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.
Eventually, a storm would hit.
But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.
-
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lovingmattysposts · 2 months
Text
Quiet 11
Tumblr media
P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10
pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo
summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk
warnings: mentions of being skinny/not eating, mentions of a drunk parent, fighting
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The worst part about hanging out with Matt was when I had to go home. I hated going home. Even with Matt being mad at me, it distracted me from what was going on at home. It gave me something else to worry about.
I shouldn't have to worry about it. I shouldn't have to worry about food on the table or if my dad would be living and breathing when I walked through the door. Everyday. And I was too scared to say anything.
I bent down and picked up Sparkle who was waiting at the front door for me like she always does. I keep her outside when I leave so my dad wouldn't know i'm now homing a cat. I tugged her to my chest as I pushed the door open. Immediately relief washing over me from her comfort.
My dad was already walking towards me.
" 'M going out" He mumbled as he placed his hand against the door frame. I just looked up at him. His eyes wobbled, like he was looking through me. My heart clenched and I held Sparkle closer.
"Fuck is that a cat?" He mumbled looking down at me. I looked down at the cat before placing her on the ground. "Yeah, it was outside and--"
"I don't want a fucking cat in my house Y/n. Get rid of it" He snapped down at me as he reached for the door handle. I blinked at him and my mouth spoke before my mind could catch up.
"Where are you going? It's late, dad" I mumbled. He turned and looked back at me as he opened the door. "I'm going out" He didn't clarify. I swallowed and looked down at Sparkle who looked up at me.
"Are you safe to go out? I-I don't think--"
"There's a bar just down the street i'll be f-fine" He grumbled. I swallowed and looked down at my feet.
"Is the job search going anywhere? I can help you look---"
"I don't need you to question me. I'm your father, you do not question me" He snapped making me close my eyes and step back. Silence came between us. I nodded and wrapped my arm around myself as I felt Sparkle rub against my leg.
I don’t know why I thought I should ask. My mouth always getting me into trouble.
"Did you pick up groceries?" I whispered. He sighed and looked down at Sparkle.
"I want that cat gone before I get back" He snapped looking down at the cat. I looked down at Sparkle. "Dad" I breathed feeling my heart clench. "I mean it Y/n" He stared down at me.
"Dad, I'm hungry" I whispered looking at him as my hands came down my arms. He blinked at me before taking in a breath.
"I'm going to the store tomorrow Y/n. There's something I need to take care of tonight I-I got people waiting on me" He shook his head. I nodded and looked down.
"Okay" I breathed thinking it was best not to push it, at least not right now. He sighed before he slammed the door. I looked down at Sparkle who looked up at me. I leaned against the cabnits before running my hand down her back.
"I'm sorry Sparkle. I can't keep you" I whispered at her. She just looked up at me. I sighed before laying my head against my knees.
When everything starts to feel okay again. There's another reminder waiting that it isn't, okay.
I stood up before picking up Sparkle and setting her back outside. She tilted her head in confusion. I stared down at the small kitten and her head went towards the bowl of water I’d left out for her.
It was empty.
I sighed before I swallowed and looked off towards the street.
-
I pushed the door open before Nick looked up at me. I smiled and set down his phone.
"Hey, Y/n" He sat up and smiled at me. The smile already making my heart pound in the worst way possible. I swallowed as I walked up and leaned against the counter to look at him.
"Come to steal something again?" He chuckled. I felt my stomach twist, and I didn't smile as I looked at him. His smiled altered from my lack of reaction as he stared back at me.
I felt horrible.
"You did?" He mumbled quieter. I sighed and hung my head and I tugged on my sweatshirt uncomfortably.
"Listen--I just need some cat food okay? I don't have any and I can't afford it. There’s this cat she’s—starving." I whispered as I looked down avoiding his eyes.
Silence came between and it let the feeling sink in of how horrible and humiliating this genuinely felt.
Nick stared at me blankly for a second before letting out a breath. I wanted to cry. To burst out into tears pathtically. But I couldn't get the look Sparkle gave me as I shut the door. She was starving. She was probably as hungry as I was.
No living thing deserved to be hungry.
"You'll steal food for a cat but not yourself?" He sighed. I didn't respond as I tucked my hands into my sweatshirt. I swallowed as he waited for an answer.
"I wouldn't do this if I wasn't desperate" I whispered as tears lined my eyes. Nick blinked at me and let out a breath. He sat up from the counter he was sitting behind and turned away.
"I'm going on break for about 10 minutes" He annoucned to me. Only then, did I look up at him. He glanced back at me.
"Please--" I spoke. He paused. "--don't tell Matt about this" I shook my head. The thought of the look on his face was enough to make me want to puke. Nick pursed his lips as he studied me. He looked down before speaking again.
"In the back--" He looked up. "There are some pre-made meals" He motioned to the back wall. "I won't say anything about this if you take something for yourself too" He breathed, his eyes scanning over my body. I felt the need to cover up.
I just nodded and then he gave me once last look before walking into the back of the store. I let out a breath as I walked down the aisles feeling sick to my stomach.
I found the cat food before grabbing as many cans as I could before shoving them into the pockets of my sweatshirt. I shoved in almost a weeks worth before I walked down where Nick pointed.
My eyes scanned the shelves before I picked up the first meal that seemed appetizing and put it under my sweatshirt, holding it to my body.
I felt my heart beat out of my chest as I walked towards the front doors of the stores. I hated doing this. I absolutely hated it.
It made me feel dirty. Like the scum of the earth. Like a dirty thief. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. I guess that’s what I was.
The doors were in sight before someone walked through making me pause.
He looked up at me his eyebrows furrowing.
"Y/n?"
I froze my eyes widening. Chris walked towards me and I stood frozen. "What are you doing here?" He asked slightly glaring at me. I looked down avoiding his eyes.
"Just....walking around. I don't know" Lame excuse, but I was nervous. I didn’t know what else to say. He stared at me and I glanced up at him.
"What are you doing?" I fired back. He looked off towards the counter.
"I visit Nick sometimes when I'm bored" He pointed off to where Nick is normally perched. I looked off and nodded. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Didn't you just leave my house?" He asked staring down at me.
"Yeah I just---came to look around" I mumbled shifting on my feet. He walked up to me and I looked up at him.
"You're not a good liar" He said staring down at me. My face lost color. "Matt sees it too, he just doesn't say anything about it--but he can see it" He stated. “—When you lie” He spoke. I looked off and bit down on my lip.
"You know Chris" I whispered. "You really can't make me feel more like shit, than I already make myself feel.��� I said staring up at him. His eyes softened and I shook my head before pushing away from him and walking out the doors of the store.
-
I leaned down and opened up a can before placing it in front of Sparkle. Her eyes wideneded and she immediatly went to devour it. I sighed as I leaned against my door and put my hand behind her ears. I closed my eyes as I felt tears start to run down my cheeks.
-
I let out a small half-laugh as I pushed the notebook back towards Matt. He smiled and added a small little hat to the figure I attempted to draw. It was suppose to be a cow but it came out looking more like a donkey.
I smiled over at him as he detailed in the hat, making my cow-donkey looking like shit. He pushed the notebook back over to me.
I sighed and I tapped my pencil against the page.
"Hey"
I looked up as Jake sat down next to me. I felt Matt stiffen beside me. I looked over as Nadia and Lacey sat down across from us. I looked up at Matt who seemed to have gone frozen, staring at them.
I closed my eyes mentally preparing for the damage.
"H-Hey what are you doing?" I whispered since we were in the library. He smiled and he wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me into him.
"What? I can't come say hi to you?"
And he kissed me.
Right in front of Matt. I froze as he pulled back. I didn't dare to look over at Matt's reaction. I let out a breath and looked down at the table trying to not show how much that shook me.
"No you can" I shook my head staring down at the notebook, not wanting to dissmiss him. Nadia leaned forward.
"You picked out what you're wearing on Friday?" She asked smiling at me. I subconsciously glanced over at Matt who watched me uncomfortably.
"N-No not yet" I shook my head staring down at the page as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. I felt Matt's gaze and I had a feeling he was going to bolt any second.
"What? You probably have a million things to wear" She said raising her eyesbrows.
"Yeah she's stick thin, she can probably wear anything" Lacey mumbled. I looked up at her and felt it like a shot to the gut. Matt shifted next to me and he fixed his eyes on Lacey.
"I just haven't looked yet" I mumbled as I picked up my pencil.
"Did you ask....him?" Jake leaned forward and looked at Matt. Matt turned to him and I looked between them. "No--I" I breathed. Lacey leaned forward.
"Friday. Jake's house. Party. You in quiet boy or not?" Lacey tilted her head at him. I realized how rude the words sounded coming from her lips. Quiet boy. A diss. To his face.
Matt opened his mouth before closing it and then just shrugged.
"He'll--think about it" I placed my hand on his shoulder. Lacey glanced over to me. "Do you always speak for him?" She asked raising her eyebrows. Matt looked down, defeat filing his face.
"No"
"Yeah whatever, kid doesn't talk. Listen, come to my car after the game tonight okay?" Jake shifted his attention to me as he stood up. I looked up at him.
"I--um okay" I breathed nodding. He smiled before leaning down and pressing his lips to my cheek and walking off, Nadia and Lacey following him.
"Please, text me what you're wearing" Nadia breathed looking down at me. I nodded up at her before she walked off with them.
I let go of a breath I was holding and I looked down at the page, but my pencil was frozen against the page.
Matt looked down at me. I closed my eyes.
"I'm sorry.....that they were rude" I swallowed not looking up at him, feeling as if those comments were my fault.
I knew it probably didn't feel good to be pointed out as being the kid who didn't speak more than once in a singular conversation. He smacked his lips and took in a breath.
He picked up his pen and wrote in my line of vision.
I stared at the page.
I didn't like the fact they commented on your weight.
I looked up at him and he stared at me, like he wasn't joking. I gave a sad smile and looked down at the words. Out of everything thrown at him in that conversation, Lacey's comment on my weight it was what stuck with him.
I shook my head as I smiled. I leaned over and leaned my head against his shoulder as I reached over and started to draw a bunny coming over the hat that was on the donkey-cow. He smiled as he watched me.
-
I didn't push Matt on the hockey game tonight after he said no. He didn't seem in the mood to be pushed today. It was a quick no and discomfort filled his face. That was that.
So I decided to go alone. Soon after I got to the rink, I realized why.
We were playing Sommervile. I froze when I saw Chris and Nick with "Sturniolo" plastered across their backs. Matt probably didn't want to watch his old team skate without him. He didn't want to be recongized.
I felt my stomach tug from the thought of Matt being home alone right now. I looked off towards the ice before seeing Jake. He smiled before skating to the side of the ice. I smiled and walked up to him.
"You made it" He smiled. I nodded and smiled. I looked behind him seeing Chris looking over at me, speaking with Nick, causing Nick to also look in my direction. I swallowed and directed my attention back to Jake.
"I hope you win" I smiled leaning on my arm. He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, well that's the goal" He smiled.
"Hey, I'm sorry if I offended you today with the comment about Mark--"
"Matt" I stared. He blinked. "Fuck--right. I'm sorry. I knew it didn't sit right with you. I shouldn't have said it" He shook his head. I sighed and nodded.
"It's okay, just....don't pry with him" I mumbled. He nodded and gripped his stick. “Okay” he breathed. And that was that.
He leaned forward before pressing his lips to mine. My eyes went wide. Still getting used to it.
"Come over after the game" He mumbled an inch from my face. I smiled and looked down.
"I'll think about it" I smiled.
"Andrews!"
He turned. "Fuck, I gotta go--" He pointed behind him. I nodded and waved him off before he skated off towards the rest of his team. I wrapped my arms over myself as I made my way to the bleachers so I could watch.
I sighed as I sat down and they started to skate. I watched as they fought for the puck. Over and over, slamming each other into the ice. I forced back a yawn. I wouldn't have come if I hadn't promised Jake.
I still think hockey is quite boring. I glanced over to the empty seat next to me. It was more fun when Matt came with me. I didn’t like sitting alone.
I watched as Nick and Chris skated. They were good. It made me wonder if Matt was as good as they are, if not better. I smiled to myself, but it fell when I realized why he stopped playing. I sighed and looked back up at the game.
I saw as Chris glanced up to me. I stared back at him. He held my gaze for a second before he looked back towards the game. I didn't have a good feeling in my stomach. I watched him as he started to skate.
Jake pushed one of the Sommervile players to take the puck. One second he was skating, the next he was slammed so harshly onto the ground--the entire bleachers full of people gasped.
The whistle blew.
I stood from the hit. It was harsh. Jake was against the ice, unable to get up. I pressed my hand to my chest as I watched him, my heart beating out of my chest. Nick reached over and pulled Chris's shoulder. Only then did I realized that Chris took that blow to Jake.
And it was intentional.
The ref’s shoved Chris back, yelling at him something I couldn't understand. Chris looked back up at me and I just looked at him, my mouth parted in shock. He turned back before he skated off the ice completely, ignoring the ref and his coach just to take the penalty.
I looked at Jake who was already receiving medical attention. He groaned against the ground. I clenched my jaw as I watched the door Chris had just walked through. I took in a breath as I rushed off the bleachers.
-
"Chris!"
"What?" He snapped turning around with his bag over his shoulder as he walked through the parking lot. I glared at him shaking my head as I approached him.
"What the fuck was that?" I screamed at him. He clenched his jaw as he looked away. I stopped in front of him. "You could have killed him!" I screamed. Chris looked down at me, he stepped forward making me stumbled back.
"He's fucking fine Y/n. I could have done alot more damage" He spoke harshly. I took in a breath. "I’m so sick and tired of you always giving me such--" I started as I grew more and more angry.
"Do you know Nick lost his job because of you?"
I froze as I looked up at Chris. He looked anything but sorry. I opened my mouth and shook my head.
"What-"
"His boss noticed the inventory didn't match the money in the register and he watched the security tapes. He saw him let you steal and he fired him. He had to pay back what you stole" He spat down at me.
Guilt rose in my stomach and I looked down at my feet, swallowing I didn't know--"
"Of course you didn't know Y/n. You only ever think about yourself" He shook his head. I felt my heart clench at the words. I shook my head. "
That's—That’s not true Chris" I whispered as tears lined my eyes. He scoffed.
"At least I don't go around fucking assulting people for no reason!" I spat back, growing angry again. He rolled his eyes. "At least i'm not a fucking thief" He snapped back. I glared at him.
"Why? What possessed you to do that? What did Jake do to you?" I asked throwing my arms up, my ears basically fuming. I had enough of his sly remarks, his bad attitude, and his utter rudeness.
I was about to explode
"I did what Matt couldn't" He breathed looking down at me. I dropped my arms and blinked at him. He stared down at me with a hard glare. I opened my mouth and shook my head.
"What are you talking about?" I breathed shaking my head. He let out a breath and licked his lips.
"Do you know what he said to me when he came home the other day?" Chris spoke harshly. I just watched him as he spoke.
"He said, Maybe If I was like him--" He pointed towards the gym we just exited. I knew he was talking about Jake. "Maybe if I was like him she would--"
"Chris"
We both turned. Nick stomped towards us. I felt the guilt rise in me again as he looked at me. He looked back at Chris.
"What the fuck man? You costed us the game" He shook his head. Chris looked down in silence.
"Nick" I breathed. He looked over at me. I shook my head. "Nick, I'm so sorry" I whispered. Nick looked over at Chris and then looked back at me.
"It's fine, Y/n. It's not that big of a deal" He mumbled as he walked up to Chris.
"No it actually is, try our only source of income" Chris glared down at me. Nick pushed him.
"You can get a job you hateful fuck" Nick snapped at his brother, his aggression clearly built up from the loss of the game.
"Our parent’s money is enough, I had the job for extra cash. It's fine" Nick shook his head. I felt my stomach twist. I stepped forward.
"I'll pay you back, I swear" I swallowed shaking my head. Nick sighed and closed his eyes. "I said it was fine Y/n. Just leave it alone” He mumbled as he grabbed Chris's arm and drug him towards the car.
Neither of them looked back at me as I stood there in the parking lot, alone.
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slasher-male-wife · 9 months
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Horror characters with an s/o who's love language is biting
So I'm sorry for barely posting anything in forever I've just been in a bit of a funk for awhile. Anyway @k1nn1e-0n-ma1n was super insistent I write this so shout out to him and his Bo Sinclair brain rot. This also was slightly inspired by @osirisisv RZ Michael Myers drawing.
Includes: Bo Sinclair, RZ Michael Myers, Otis Driftwood, and Doomhead
Warnings: Violence kind of, Bo and Otis being a perverts kind of
Bo Sinclair
Lester was a biter as a child and Bo has a very high pain tolerance so you biting him doesn't hurt it just surprises him. He honestly didn't know what you did until he looked over and saw you biting his hand.
"The fuck are ya doin'?" He'll ask verbatim. He's not mad, he's just confused as to why at 5:47 on a Tuesday during him watching reruns of some 80's show you decided to bite him.
When you say it's a love language he immediately thinks it's a sex thing. You will quickly shut that down and he'll get a little less excited.
"I still don't understand why ya did that darlin." He'll say before pulling you either on top of him or underneath him and just holding you so you can't bite him again.
On occasion he'll let you bite him again, but if you do it when he doesn't want you too he'll storm off to wherever and ignore you until you make it up to him.
RZ Michael Myers
He has a very high pain tolerance but when he feels you biting him he'll immediately push you off of him or put you in a headlock. He won't let you out either unless you beg him.
He is very confused as to why you bit him, because to his understanding you're not supposed to hurt the people you love.
He's going to probably disappear for a few days to think this over, and because he doesn't want you to bite him again for a little bit. But he'll come back more understanding.
You can bite him, but only when he's prepared and you're willing to 'play fight' because let's be honest, play fighting with Michael is basically him thinking he's playing and you fighting for you life. Could put you in head lock again.
He honestly might just roll up his sleeve and indirectly ask you to bite him. But this will happen after a lot of talking about how biting him means you're not trying to hurt him you just love him.
Otis Driftwood
"Did you just fucking bite me?" He asks you. And honestly no matter where you bite him it's a bad idea because he would taste like cigarettes, blood, and dirt.
Will be mad until you explain you do it because you love him and he'll laugh. Will also think it's a sex thing but you quickly shut that down. He's a little disappointed but doesn't mind too awfully much.
He doesn't mind as long as you give him a proper warning before you do it. If you catch him off guard he'll honestly pull his arm or whatever part of him you bit and leave you alone for a few hours at the least
Because he's a little freak he'll ask you to try and bite him harder than you normally do it to see how much pain he can handle. You can probably draw blood before he tells you to stop.
Overtime he learns to love it and honestly doesn't mind too much anymore. If a victim tries to or actually bites him he'll laugh and tell you about it later. "Don't worry honey, they weren't as good as you."
Doomhead
He’s not exactly lucid all the time so he might not realize you’re biting him at first. When he does realize it he pulls his hand away and laughs about it. "Do I taste good to you or something sweetheart?"
Will tease you about it non-stop. Brings it up all the time even if there's nothing to do with it currently. He'll have a hard time understanding that you're doing it "out of love".
He might honestly buy you a dog chew toy as a joke if you bite him often enough. Or like one of those baby teething toys. He will laugh so hard about it, especially if you get embarrassed about it.
That's not to say he doesn't like when you bite him. He can find the repetitive feeling calming and it honestly might make him feel more lucid at times. But he'd never ask you to do it. He might gives you hints though
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glitterquadricorn · 3 months
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Look What You Made Me Do - MV1
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+summary: The couple was once thought to be the modern-day Romeo and Juliet (minus the unaliving part). Where you saw her, Max was not too far behind and vice versa. And despite his father's insistence to stay from her, he simply couldn't. He was enthralled by her and her persistence on the track. Together, they rose through the ranks and found themselves to be teammates in Formula one. But their story turns sour when Max betrays her in the worst way possible. +pairing: Max Verstappen x F1!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions the p*quets, curse words, hate comments, poorly edited. If i missed something, let me know.
face claim: Florence Pugh
I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.
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Her phone constantly vibrated against the glass coffee table of Max and Her's home. People were mentioning her in a tweet made from one of those wag accounts saying that Max was spotted with another woman that wasn't her and that he could be cheating. 'Max wouldn't cheat on me, right?' she thought to herself. Although, she remembered he had been acting rather weird lately. But him acting weird could mean anything.
The sound of the front door opening and closing and keys hitting the ceramic bowl alerted her that Max was home. Her eyes went straight to the bright orange bag in his hand. The same bright orange bag from the picture in the tweet.
"What's going on in that head of yours, Schatz?" Max hugged her, kissing the top of her head. He smelled like her.
"Thinking about what to make for dinner. Anything in particular?"
"I was thinking we could get takeout."
"Sounds good." She watched as Max turned towards their bedroom and tucked neatly into the collar of his shirt, which was a redbull shirt no shock there, was a semi dark hickey. A hickey she knew she didn't put there. Maybe that one tweet was right.
Dinner that night was a silent affair. The question of rather or not he was actually cheating weighed heavily on her mind. One half of her was being completely ignorant and believing Max would never do such a thing. The other half, the rational half, are putting the pieces together and ringing the alarm bells and are practically shouting from the rooftops that he is most definitely cheating. It was getting to be too much for her.
"Are you cheating on me?"
Max began choking on the water in his mouth. "What? Are you crazy? Where are you even getting this from?"
"It's just- I kept getting tagged in that one tweet-"
"And you believe it? You know those kinds of accounts make stuff up."
"Never said I did, Max," she said. "But explain the orange shopping bag, or how you got that hickey on your neck, or how you smell like none of the perfumes I have."
"I don't have to deal with this." Max stood up from the table and y/n followed after him.
"So, they're true?"
"Y/n, I don't want to talk about this right now."
"Well, that's just too damn bad. We're talking about this now because If we don't it won't get talked about at all."
Max faced her, his body shaking with anger. "Fine! Yes, I did cheat on you. Is that what you wanted to hear? How you weren't good enough and will never be good enough for me? How you'll never be good enough for anyone? How sometimes I can't fucking stand you to be around you? You. are. insufferable."
Her eyes started to fill with tears. In all the years she's known Max, he's never not once gotten this mad nor has he ever been this hateful. As if he realized what he's said, he began to apologize profusely.
"I'm so, so sorry, Schatz." Max tried to come closer to comfort her, but she stepped away.
"Thanks for letting me know how you really feel about me, Max. I'll uh get out of your hair."
"Y/n, please-"
"No amount of apologizing will ever make me forget what you said. You were the love of my life, the man that I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with and have kids with."
"But we can still have that!"
"It's rather funny you're trying to save a relationship you destroyed," she chuckled loudly at Max's audacity. "Tell me, how long have you been cheating? And be honest, I deserve that much."
With his head hung low in shame, he mumbled, "Nearly a year."
"Unbelievable."
Before heading off to their bedroom to pack some clothes, she looked at the man she once loved. "You know, I've dealt with a lot in my life. I've traveled the world seeing it in a whole new light while doing what I loved, been in a crash or two that was painful, seen and experienced things I didn't think I'd be able to experience, but this... this hurts the most."
Once she left the house, she got in her car and tapped on her lawyer's number, texting him.
I don't care how you do it, but just get me out my redbull contract. DON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS.
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yourinstagram(left) and maxverstappen1(right) . 2hrs ago
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yourinstagram
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liked by taylorswift, lilymhe, pierregasly and 932,312 others.
yourinstagram: Mama Tay once said don't get sad, get even 💅🏻💋#newsponsor #newthingsarecoming
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taylorswift I taught you well young grasshopper. liked by yourinstagram
lilymhe where are you going dressed like that? cause damn. ⤷ yourinstagram sponsorship meeting with a new sponsor.
user1 you want to explain that second picture?
user2 looking respectfully.
user3 new things coming? what's that supposed to mean? ⤷ user4 she did say she got a new sponsor and I assume it's with Chanel. ⤷ user5 I can't help but think the whole new things coming means something else.
pierregasly 👀👀 ⤷ yourinstagram just taking lessons from you.
francisca.cgomes are you single? ⤷ yourinstagram why yes, I am. you asking me out on a date? ⤷ francisca.cgomes of course! ⤷ pierregasly I'm right here you know. ⤷ yourinstagram I'll make sure to have her home before midnight 😉
user6 not y/n flirting with pierre's girlfriend 🤣
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For half an hour, she sat on the couch listening to Lando, Logan, Charles and Pierre answer questions about their summer break, their hopes for the second half of the season and what they want for their teams/cars. Not one question came her way, and she was happy about that. She hated doing media with a passion. She could understand they had bills to pay, families to support, but if she could get away with not doing any kind of media without being fined for it, she'd happily do it.
Just when she thought she'd have an easy day, a reporter she was familiar with, one she has had problems with since her debut in 2021, raised her hand.
"Mackenzie Smith, Espn. I have a question for you, y/n," she smiled. "Over the summer break there was a rumor going around saying you were leaving redbull at the end of the season. Is that true? Can you maybe give some insight on that?"
It's an innocent question to ask, but knowing Mackenzie, she'll somehow go off topic and ask questions she has no business asking about.
"Accounts like that always make up some of the most ridiculous things for clicks. Unfortunately, people believe it and until me, or my agent confirms it, then it's just that. A rumor."
Mackenzie huffed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. But if there's something about Mackenzie everyone should know, is she has a habit of asking rather intrusive questions she has no business asking. "Your relationship with fellow driver, Max Verstappen, ended over the summer break as well."
"My relationship, or lack thereof, is not yours or anyone's business. End of discussion."
"But he-"
"Yeah, and I said end of discussion. What part of that did you not understand?" she paused. "Now, does anyone have any other questions? No? Okay."
She sat the microphone down beside her and walked out the room. Was she going to get lectured by her PR manager? Yeah. Was she going to be fined for walking out? Probably. But she didn't care and if there was one thing she knew she didn't have to sit there and be questioned about her personal life.
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porscheformula1team
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liked by yourinstagram, mickschumacher, and 1,253,549 others.
porscheformula1team: Come meet our drivers! Mick, who is returning to the f1 grid after missing out on the 2023 season and Y/n, who finished 2nd in the drivers' standings. The future for Porsche looks bright!
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yourinstagram Thank you for this amazing opportunity, Porsche. ⤷porscheformula1team: No, thank you for taking the risk and signing with us.
mickschumacher It's good to be back in formula one.
user7 while I am excited for Mick to be back, I just think y/n is a backstabber for leaving a team that pretty built her entire career. ⤷user6 did you honestly think y/n would stick around after Max cheated on her?
user8 this is the best thing to wake up to!
user9 redbull was holding y/n back, so it's a good thing she left.
user10 future wdc winners? liked by mickschumacher, yourinstagram,porscheformula1team
user11 best driver's pairing in f1 liked by porscheformula1team
user12 signing these two was the biggest mistake Porsche ever made. ⤷porscheformula1team we beg to differ. ⤷user13 Porsche defending mick and y/n 🥰🤗
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Max Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? When did you even sign with porsche?
Y/N Didn't know I was obligated to tell you I was leaving. I signed back in August after I got that Chanel sponsor.
Max YOU SIGNED BACK IN AUGUST?! WTF
Y/N I move fast just like you.
Max What's that supposed to mean?
Y/N It means you're okay with getting into a relationship with Kelly 2 weeks after we broke up.
Max You're being childish, y/n.
Y/N Did you really think I'd stay after you cheated? In 2024, you better get used to being behind me because that WDC is mine.
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Don't let this flop. I worked real hard on it.
ALL PICTURES ARE FROM PINTEREST AND CREDIT TO THE OWNERS.
Tagging:
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyberhacker @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee
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jazzsonly · 8 months
Text
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ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰꜰ
pairing(s): maddy perez x fem!reader (no pronouns used.)
warning(s): angst? arguing? none technically. old fic meaning old ass writing.
summary: you can't understand why Maddy won't save your failing relationship
part two. (coming soon!)
────────✬────────
you were laid against fezco's couch while you, him, and rue shared a blunt. tv on, with a random movie blaring from it. you don't know, you weren't really paying attention. maddy was clouding your mind as she usually did.
you had your sixth argument alone this week. you were tired—you couldn't understand. everything was fine. you were fine—more than fine, you were happy. so was maddy or at least you thought because all she seemed to do was start an argument lately. the weirdest part: she'd get even more mad when you tried to deescalate the situation and understand her.
"i think jules is cheating on me." rue announced, blowing smoke from her nose.
"oh word?" fezco let out while I was hummed in response.
was that it? was maddy cheating on you? no. you held her too high to think of her doing that.
"she’a been hanging with elliot a lottt." rue dragged her words.
"maybe you should ask her..." you trail off.
“you know, communicate.”
"yea’ that's word. communication is key." you both turn to fezco.
"when have you been in a relationship?" rue asked the question you were both thinking.
"don’t worry about me—I know a little some." you snort, you loved fez. you knew if you needed anything he had you.
"yo, there's this weird ass old guy out back." everyone looked at ashtray who held a shotgun in his hands.
"fuck, man."
fez stood and turned to both of you, "y'all should head out."
you didn't ask any questions, standing up you made your way to the door. rue behind you as well, grumbling about how she was comfortable.
"you need a ride?" you asked the Bennett.
"nah I got a bike."
maddy's house was on the way to yours so you figured why not stop by. you weren't in the mood to argue so you thought maybe you could get her relaxed and watch a movie.
you knocked on the door a totaled or three times before her mom open it,
"y/n?" she seemed oddly surprised to see you.
"hey mrs.perez, is maddy here?"
"yeah, she's in her room." she pointed to the familiar stairs, stepping aside to let you.
you followed the route upstairs, knocking on the bedroom door twice before peaking your head in. maddy on her bed, phone to her ear. her eyes met you face and she rolled her eyes before telling whoever (assumed Cassie) on the phone she'd call them later.
"hey—I was on my way home and wanted to stop by, hope you don't min—
"come here." you followed, closing the door behind you. surprisingly, she pulled you into a hug, after placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth.
"listen, I don't wanna argu—
"were you smoking?" she questioned, sniffing your shirt that had a light scent of weed.
"yeah, just a little." you mutter already having an idea where this was going.
"you've been doing it a lot—and you've been hanging with rue."
"i’m not on that shit, maddy. just some weed and light drinking. just to relax." you huff at her accusation.
"drinking too? what? you gonna end of like my dad AND rue?" here you go.
"maddy—"
"you’re so fucking selfish." here come the insults.
“i do it because of you!" you blurt of out, voice rising.
"me? no you do because you're fucking self and only think about yourself. god—i should've known when i found you were friends with rue and fez."
you perk up, pointing your finger. “they're good people. don’t you fucking look down on them."
you weren't normally defensive but you weren't gonna let her shit talk your people.
"look, maddy, i didn't come here for this shit. so call me when you get your head on right, bro." you stood, trying to exit of the door you came in but maddy’s hand caught your wrist.
"stay."
"i just—
"we can watch a movie." she gave you doe eyes and you contemplated for a second.
if you stay you know you'd probably argue again but there's also a chance you can be civil. but that was a 75 to 35 ratio
"please, baby."
you sigh, sitting back down.
━━━ 👩🏽‍💻
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sunkissed-zegras · 1 month
Note
Can you do a pt.2 of UConn wbb manager headcannon pleasee
𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER
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─ warnings | mentions of injuries, fluffy, nothing else?
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
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there are soooo many videos of manager getting upset over dumb calls that they make on the court
and people like read her lips and it's so funny because she'll just cuss them out not knowing there's a camera on her
like she gets pissed but since she can't get involved, she'll just talk to herself as she takes pictures
they become reaction pictures
the caption would be like "when my mom pisses me off but i can't let her hear" or something like that
there are a lot of videos of manager being really sassy but there are PLENTY of her being a sweetheart
especially to fans!!!!!!
not necessarily like clips or anything but anyone who's met her LOVES HER
she will gladly take pics of you and the player she's with, and not only that but baby girl will get ALL the angles
it's adorable
i feel everyone is very protective of manager but ESPECIALLY kk and paige because they're like her guard dogs
this may be like a really niche example but kinda like kiyoko in haikyuu??? yeah...
also NIKA
paige/kk get really protective over literally anything so it's just them tryna make you laugh when they're protective, but you/nika have a different dynamic where it's like
if anyone tries to disrespect you, not only will they have to deal with paige/kk but NIKA
and she's sm scarier than them no offense...
you know you've made into manager's heart when she starts to tease you because she's like... not being too professional with you anymore
especially like the freshman, ooo she loves teasing them
in this ask, where nonnie talks about how the team brings out manager's soft side is sooo true
like she may seem like a cold-stone bitch but in reality, she's NOT !! not even a tiny bit, poor girl just has the worst case of rbf EVER
her soft side comes out when any of the girls get injures, oh my gosh
she's the first to come to their aid and help them
and she's always there for them after the fact cus she knows how hard injuries can be when you play a support
she's there emotionally and talks them through it, makes sure that they know they're still part of the team injury or not, and of course that she loves them!!
AND she's very soft with the girls when they're going through stuff outside of basketball
relationship issues, family issues, drama within your friendgroup, baby girl is there to help them through it!!!!!
but she's not just like "therapist" friend, trust the team in return knows when theres something up w her and will do everything in their power to help her
and jump whoever hurt you
when manager gets her nails done, the team gets SOOO hurt bc they can't get theirs done bc of basketball so they get super mad at her (jokingly ofc)
so she just rubs it in their faces to get them angry LMAOOO, its very funny to witness
every once in a blue mood, manager will post a thrist trap and OH MY GOD
the entire team is in her comments hyping flirting with her up!!
and especially after uconn kinda blows up on tiktok, you bet those old thirst traps will make themselves into the damn edits
you and paige will hang out during that time and just look at edits while laughing your asses off (but paige is lowkey into yours cus she favorites them)
OOOO AND SHE FORGETS THAT THE EDITORS CAN SEE WHEN SHE SAVES THEM SO SHE JUST GETS EXPOSED AND EVERYONE'S JUST LIKE PAIGEEEE PLS 😭😭
i feel like there's def an edit with the audio "milkshake instrumental" bc everyone thinks u give off like... mean girl vibes
BUT EVERYONE FALLS IN LOVE WITH U BC OF IT, IF THAT MAKES IT???
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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emeraldkniight · 6 months
Text
𝓢𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 ୨ ໋ ˳ ⊹ eng. . . !
superman, wonder woman and batman x f!reader
WARNINGS: smut drabble, gang bang, some sexual degradation, masturbation, oral sex, p in v. Diana!bisexual.
COPYRIGHT: No copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.
LANGUAGE: English is not my first language and I am still studying to master it. It makes me insecure to write by myself in another language, so I used the translator. I apologize in advance for any mistakes. The original version is here.
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There was always something strange and unlikely about these three from the moment you met them.
They were all hiding secrets. According to you, hiding secrets was one of the most common parts of human nature. You were not interested in knowing what they were all hiding, but your curious mind was obsessed with knowing what the holy trinity of the Justice League was hiding beneath their sleek and sophisticated veneer of heroes; what no one would dare doubt or question.
The price of your curiosity was more costly than you could have ever imagined, a debt that would have to be repaid. Now you were part of this madness, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't escape.
The good news was that you didn't want to.
You knew that the moment you felt the three of them completely, you were content to belong.
It was just hard to think of anything else when you found yourself tied to a chair, completely naked and unable to move while three pairs of blue eyes analyzed you.
The beautiful princess of Themyscira had no shame in digging into your sweet crotch. Her fingers slid across your sodden vaginal lips with a sound so vulgarly obscene that it caused you to inadvertently stir in your chair.
You looked intently at the two male figures as you tried to get as close to Diana as your body would allow so you could kiss her and feel her fingers go deeper inside you.
But before you could reach her lips, you were brutally pushed away by the man of steel, who had the clear intention of tasting your mouth first. Not that you were complaining; Clark's tongue was heavenly. It had a strange but hot connection to your lips, so it made you a mess right away. Who would have thought that Superman's ultimate power would be to soak his victims so easily?
Still, you didn't deserve them to be nice to you. On the contrary, you should be punished for insubordination. What you did was unforgivable.
In your defense, you didn't know that you were exclusive to the trio and couldn't sleep with other people. The rules weren't very clear when you met them, or when they started their no-strings-attached sex adventures.
Of course, you were not exclusive to anyone, and you planned to make that clear in the future. Right now, you were too busy cumming on Diana's fingers drilling your pussy that you didn't have enough time to think about anything else.
The adoration the Bat had for the way your pussy enveloped him so warmly brought out the most dominant and morbid part of his inner self. The sight of his cock moving in and out of your little hole at the same time your mouth was happily eating Clark's erection and your fingers were eating Diana's clit was enough to bring you to the verge of orgasm.
You gagged as the tip brushed against your uvula. You couldn't even concentrate enough because of how hard he was penetrating you. The pleasure was embracing.
— Look at our little slut. She can't even concentrate on sucking a good cock while she's being fucked. - Wayne commented. He kept going right into her sweet spot; faster and faster, more and more precise.
— She was too bad. Should we give her a prize though? She always takes us so well. - Kent continues, asking. You're beginning to control the rhythm of your mouth, although it's still a little difficult in some ways.
— Oh, Hera! - moans the princess of Themyscira. - That feels so good. - Her fingers can't resist trying to help themselves so she can come on your hand.
This is definitely the best part of the day, the one you enjoyed the most. And of course that was the guilty pleasure that came with keeping a secret. The secret the four of you shared.
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quinnsadilla · 5 months
Text
fluff alphabet |clarisse la rue
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author's note: Hi lovelies, please send me requests! I don't know what gave me the confidence to think I can write, probably delusion. Also, this is according to my personal views of Clarisse so don't be mad if it's different from what you've imagined. Leave a comment, I love interacting with people, xx.
warnings: I tried my best to keep it gender/race/cabin neutral for the most part but there are still some feminine coded things here and there. English is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes.
A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
Starting off strong because with Clarisse sparring is a must. Although she doesn't like to think there will ever come a time in which she won't be there to protect you, it's still an essential part of life as a half-blood. And who better to train you than the daughter of war herself? And in case the apprentice becomes the master and you happen to beat her or pin her to the ground or even hold your dagger to her neck? Oh boy, she's done for. Actual heart eyes.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
She pretty much loves everything about you, she can't really just choose one aspect. Though, if she had to, she'd probably say she loves you for being supportive, understanding, and patient with her. You understand her better than anyone. That's what made her know you were the one for her. You can control her anger issues and calm her down when she's on the verge of exploding and she thinks that's beautiful.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc?
The art of intimacy or comfort never came easy to Clarisse. Her relationship with her mother isn't the best and hasn't been for a while now and her father is a grade A asshole. Her first instinct when you're feeling down is to fix it, to ask you who or what happened and give them a physical piece of her mind, but that's not always how it works. She'll pull you to her lap and hold you through the night or for as long as you need, wiping your tears and kissing your cheeks. She'll let you vent your heart out. You can tell her anything. Or nothing, if you prefer. She's not the best with words but her actions speak much louder.
D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
She's never thought that much ahead if she's being honest. Never allowed herself to daydream too much into the future, choosing to live off the present for now. Sometimes, however, she pictures what could be only described as an utopia; to go on such a fantastical quest that the gods can't help but grant the both of you immortality, that way you'd bask in the glory of your love forever and ever.
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
On the outside looking in it would seem Clarisse is the dominant one for sure. And in some ways she is; she likes that you can rely on her, she wants to provide for you, yearns to prove herself capable of such. Still, you're the one in charge. Clarisse is completely devoted to you, and your relationship means more to her than anything she's ever felt before. She cherishes it like no other, always at your beck and call.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
Clarisse is intense, that much we know. Her anger runs deep and her passion burns red. She's not perfect, and doesn't try to hide it either. She's hot-tempered, arrogant, she's got a short fuse and she holds grudges. Her fatal flaw is pride, which sometimes gets in the way of her good senses, so you'll most likely be the one apologizing first. Despite all that, she can't bear the thought of you being mad at her and absolutely hates fighting with you. It's like it's tearing her apart, especially if you're sad over something she said or did in the heat of the moment. Truth is, she is a fighter at heart so when all is said and done she'll try and make it up to you in some way, somehow.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
She is so appreciative of everything you do and are. As previously stated, Clarisse didn't get much love growing up so any semblance of that is something she clings hard to. She notices everything, every little thing you do for her and the underlying of your words. How you treat her and others is always stored in the back of her mind and she loves to be loved by you.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
Clarisse is a very closed off person in general, she doesn't like feeling exposed and being possibly seen as weak. She'll tell you things but there's still some matters you have to pick up on your own and know how to approach them, especially regarding her feelings and personal struggles. She's very honest though, she feels like she owns you that much and appreciates you if you do the same for her. The more your relationship progresses you'll notice being able to read her like an open book because although she does her very best to hide it there's an underlying vulnerability to her behavior in certain moments you'll take proper notice of the more you know her.
I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
Clarisse has definitely become more gentle since you. It still doesn't extend to your friends and family but more so how she behaves around you and knowing she doesn't have to put up that though front all the time. Her sense of self worth has improved as well, especially when you reassure her through her insecurities and doubts (never being the son her father wanted etc.)
J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
Oh, boy. Clarisse’s jealousy is very fuelled by… Well, anything really. She doesn't necessarily need a motive to go toe to toe with someone, just staring at you for a second longer than she deems them worthy of and she's ready for a fight. It's hard for anyone to get close enough to flirt with you because she's always there, by your side, kind of like a guard dog. But only because she knows how amazing you are and her insecurities do blurry some lines on what's acceptable. She's working on it though.
K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
Clarisse is definitely a good kisser. She doesn't have much experience, if any, but she's a natural. It sounds cheesy but the first time she kisses you was like butterflies and church bells dancing loudly in the wind. The way she cups your face so uncharacteristically soft and how she breaks off the kiss with a series of small pecks only to smile one of her beautiful smiles so close to each other's faces… Magical. It could be at the fireworks on the fourth of July or it could be in your favorite spot in the woods, soaked in lake water during a midnight swim or after a heated argument. No matter how many times Clarisse kisses you, she'll never not feel electricity similar to her spear’s sharp edge digging into her body and soul.
L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
Clarisse does not have a clue what she's doing. I feel like she'd say something in the heat of the moment; either confessing her true feelings or masking them by saying something hurtful she doesn't actually mean. In the latter scenario she'd storm off and berate herself over it but her pride and fear that you'd never look at her again made her put off her apology for some time and let it all sink in to talk to you when she's ready. That is until you start properly ignoring her and she nearly goes crazy with longing, just missing your overall presence and having her stomach turn to knots at the way things were left between you two. That's one of the few times Clarisse sucks it up and reaches for you. The apology is awkward but overwhelmingly honest and she tells you she's an idiot but you're content in forgiving her and giving her a second (actual first) chance.
M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
Again, Clarisse never thought she'd live to see the day she'd actually have a marriage prospect. Her life just doesn't seem complete without you anymore and the moment she realizes that she's done for. It would probably be while you're laying in bed together, your head on her chest while you play with her fingers. Your eyes are heavy with sleep but hers are wide open, thinking. “Will you marry me?” said while staring into the distance and you probably think she's joking except Clarisse is not one to joke about that sort of thing. “Not now. But eventually.” and whether you ask if she's serious or just accept it right away, she'd look at you seriously for a beat and then tackle you into a bear hug, crushing you underneath her. She doesn't see the point in a big wedding, but if that's what you're into, she won't mind.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
She is not immune to babe or baby but would still like to keep some variety. Things like sunshine, gorgeous, angel or others (I'm looking at you, person who created the “mama/s” HC). She does like your name very much, or probably a shortened version of it. Don't expect her to not tease you if any of these make you flustered.
O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
Clarisse likes to think she's good at hiding it when she's absolutely not. As Taylor Swift once said, you can hear it in the silence. Just the way her eyes soften when she's looking at you speaks millions, but people also get whiplash at how fast her mean attitude changes whenever you're around. Her love giving languages are probably acts of service and physical touch. She loves to do things for you, feeling all big and mighty whenever she can make your life just a little easier. Touching is also a must but we'll get to that in a second.
P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
Clarisse is not very comfortable with public displays of affection, because she is afraid of being judged or mocked by others for being weak or soft. She prefers to keep her relationship with you private and intimate, but doesn't mind the little things. She does gloat about being with you as well as showing you off, so that everyone on camp knows you're hers. She brags about you all the time and I mean, seriously, all the time. She's not a big hand holder but she almost over compensates by grabbing at your hips and thighs, throwing an arm over your shoulder or hiding her face in your neck. She especially loves bonfires when you sit on her lap and she can hold firmly onto your waist while she's talking to her siblings or just press her forehead against yours when her social battery is low.
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
She's very perceptive. She may not know what has changed right away but she's also persistent so she'll figure it out in an instant. If it's the way you did your hair or something that happened along your day, even if you change your usual greeting. She notices and she'll definitely ask you about it.
R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
Clarisse wants to be loved, that's all she’s ever wanted, and she has so much love to give, therefore I believe she'll do just about anything to make you happy. That includes being an absolute sap. She honestly doesn't mind how cliche it is, if it works on you, you bet she's using it. If anyone cares to say anything remotely negative about you or your relationship she will promptly glare them into oblivion or give them something to really worry about.
S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
She is your absolute biggest supporter. Especially if you don't believe in yourself, then she's trying even harder for you to see just how well you can do something if you put your mind to it. With something like sword training she is more than willing to help you, rewarding you with kisses and cursing you for distracting her with your pretty face.
T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
Clarisse doesn't mind change, she rolls with it. If you have a certain way of doing things, a routine you like to follow, that's fine by her. If you're unpredictable, even better. She just loves to see what comes next in terms of your relationship, not necessarily needing anything to amplify her love for you. It's already hardwired into her.
U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
She knows you like the back of her hand. Even the slightest furrow of your eyebrows or tilt of your head and she'll be there in a second asking what's wrong. She does learn to be more empathetic towards your own struggles, which was hard at first because she wasn't sure how to see things from someone else's point of view. Though road but you make it work.
V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
She doesn't have much to look forward to so Clarisse values her relationship with you very highly, as you are one of the few people who can see past her tough and aggressive exterior and appreciate her softer and more vulnerable side. She is fiercely loyal and protective of you, and would do anything to keep you safe and happy.
W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
I actually read this one on a Wattpad story a while ago so credit to the original creator but, Clarisse has a teddy bear named Mr. Muscles she's had since she was like, nine and she cherishes it like it's her most prized possession. When she introduced this piece of information to you, you just found her so incredibly adorable you couldn't contain the giggles and she gets so hot in the face she pushes you off her bed and it's honestly one of the most memorable moments in your relationship.
X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
I headcanon Clarisse as your personal furnace as well as a koala bear so kisses and cuddles are a must, especially if it's cold outside. She loves to take naps with you, it gets to the point where she has trouble sleeping without you (so you give her a vial of your perfume to spray on Mr. Muscles for when you're away).
Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
Clarisse with you: 🥰
Clarisse without you: 😡
She gets snappier than usual and easily annoyed but she'll also get really sad because she's never had to deal with being away from you. Her siblings try to cheer her up by shoving some kid's head into the toilet but she's so disinterested in anything that does not involve you she just goes about her days training until she can see you again and show off her muscles.
Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
The answer is yes, one hundred percent. “Touch her and you die” trope goes so hard. Not only that but she would willingly sacrifice the world and herself for you and your relationship. She would go out of her way to make sure you are okay, that you are fed and hydrated and well rested, even messing up her own sleeping schedule in order to take better care of you.
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talaok · 5 months
Text
The perfect bunny
Pairing: Joel Miller x ff!reader
Summary: Christmas with Joel and bunny (for context joel is the boss of a group of criminals in the Boston QZ, and you are his girl)
Warnings: rushed writing, unprotected p in v sex, and a whole lot of fluff
A/n: Happy holidays guys, I love you all so very very much❤️
This is part of a series but it can be read alone. If you wanna read more of Joel and bunny, click here
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He had done everything.
Everything you asked for, he had made come true.
Your house was filled with every Christmas decoration he had found in the whole QZ, garlands, mistletoe, little raindeers and Santa clauses overfilled your shelves, and then right there, in the middle of the living room, was the centerpiece... the tree, filled to the brim with ornaments you had put up together, as a family, because that's what you were, you and him, a family.
He even went as far as finding an old cd with christmas songs, all because you mentioned once how much you missed hearing them.
You'll never know what you did to deserve him, to deserve such unconditional, pure love, but what you didn't know is that he felt exactly the same, that the reason he did everything you asked, always, was because you had saved him in more ways he could have ever explained.
And now, now in a world gone to hell, in a world that in many ways wasn't even a world anymore, where people didn't live, but survived, thanks to him, and thanks to you, you were alive again, and you were celebrating Christmas in a way you thought had become unimaginable.
"this is for you" you grinned, handing him his neatly packaged present.
You were sat under the tree as you had insisted, having ignored his protests about his achy back.
"for me?" he asked, his excitement piercing through his tone.
He hadn't gotten a gift in years if he didn't count you, so of course he was happy.
"yes daddy, all for you" You nodded eagerly
"mhh" he hummed, unwrapping it with care, his lips splitting into one of those huge, almost childish smiles he didn't grant himself often enough.
"20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" he breathed, grasping the book as if it was the most precious treasure on this earth "Where did you even find this?"
You chuckled, leaning closer to him "You're not the only one who people answer to around here Miller"
"'s that right?" he smirked, amused
"damn right" you laughed, leaving a quick peck on his lips "You like it?"
"I love it bunny" he answered in a second, still smiling wholeheartedly "I can't believe you remembered, thank you"
"of course I remembered" you grinned, shaking your head before he brought his lips to yours again to show you just how grateful he was, which according to the way he didn't seem in any way willing to lean away, was a whole lot.
You giggled, breaking the kiss
"I've got you something too, baby"
Your eyes widened, every feature of yours brightening with glee.
"you did?" you smiled "I thought the ones you gave me this morning were my gifts" you murmured giddily.
"Not a chance bunny" he shook his head, stroking your cheek "Making you come is just as much your pleasure as it is mine"
You hummed in contentment, biting your bottom lip as he fished something out of his pajama pants, handing you a tiny wrapped something.
You took it in your hands, looking up at him with joy.
"I know the wrapping's not great," he said, a little self-conscious now that he saw what a gorgeous package you'd made him
"What are you talking about?" you reassured him "It's perfect, daddy"
You held your breath as you opened it, remaining immobilized at the sight before you once the paper was all gone.
It was a necklace. A tiny silver necklace, with the cutest bunny hanging at the bottom.
Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, your hands shaking ever so little.
"Joel" you whispered, at a loss for words "This is... this is beautiful" you breathed "H-how did you even get it?"
"had to make just a few people mad, but that's about it" he shrugged, relishing in the amazement on your face.
"A few people?" you couldn't help but laugh, a small tear fleeing your eye "I-I don't know what to say, baby, this is- this is gorgeous"
"you don't have to say anything" he promised, "c'mon, let's go to the mirror so I can put it on you"
And so, with wobbly legs, you followed him to the mirror a few feet away at the entrance of your home.
He stepped beside you, and you handed him the piece, watching as he put it on you with care, leaving a little kiss on your shoulder when he was done.
And of course, it sat perfectly right between your chest, a little piece of him to carry everywhere you went.
"Joel I love it" you whispered "It's-it's perfect"
He hummed contently, his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your reflection
"A perfect bunny for my perfect bunny"
A smile erupted on your face at his words, and you couldn't help but turn around, towards him, towards the love of your life.
"thank you" you murmured, your hands on each side of his face, "thank you so much"
And then again, you were kissing, kissing as if there was no tomorrow, your lungs burning from how much oxygen you were robbing them of.
"I love you bunny" he breathed, earning another kiss
"I love you too, Joel" you promised, looking into his loving eyes for another moment before deciding on something.
"sit down," you said
"sit down?" he frowned, watching you confusedly
"just do it daddy" you laughed, taking his hand and guiding him to the couch
he did as told, his legs spread open and his eyes trained on you.
You could feel his gaze burn a hole in the back of your head as you walked over to the stereo to turn the volume up, a Christmas song flowing through the room better now.
"whatcha doing bunny?" he asked "You sure as hell better not be planning on handcuffing me again"
You laughed at that, and at the memory of the despair in his eyes that night.
"I'm not, daddy, don't worry" You smiled walking up to him until you were right in front of him,
"no, then what are you doing darlin'?"
"I'm thanking you" you said sweetly, your hips starting to gently move in synch with the sound
"'s that right?" he murmured, his eyes falling to your chest as you started unbuttoning the falnnel oh his covering it "what for?"
"mh" you hummed, smiling as you let the shirt fall to the floor "for everything daddy" you explained, slowly turning around and shimmying your shorts off your legs, making a show of bending down to pick them up just to throw them to your left.
he groaned at the sight, and you couldn't help but giggle, spinning back around.
"goddamn bunny" he purred, taking in every inch of your body as you started playing with the straps of your bra, forcing them to fall off your shoulders painfully slowly.
You looked as he watched every movement of yours like a hawk, and you would have teased him further if it wasn't that you were supposed to be thanking him.
So without any further ado, you undid the clasp of your bra, and let it fall to your feet, a soft "fuck" escaping his throat.
Next came your panties.
Your hips were still moving to the music as your fingers seeped through the waistband, gripping at the edge of them and then slowly pulling down, until they pooled at your feet making Joel's cock feel a moment away from bursting.
You smiled, wordlessly placing a hand on his shoulders to prop yourself up as you straddled his lap, his mouth immediately finding yours.
"thank you daddy" you whispered, kissing his cheek "Thank you for the necklace" Another kiss, now on right below his ear "Thank you for the decorations" now down his neck, your breath tickling his skin "for sitting under the tree even if your back hurts" you couldn't resist the urge to chuckle, your hands now trailing to his pants "thank you for the cd" again, another kiss on his neck, before you freed his cock from his pants, and looked up at him "thank you for everything daddy"
His cock slipped into you with ease, and he groaned loudly as you started moving on top of him, a position he didn't get to feel much (by his own volition), and you moaned into his mouth as you kissed him.
"thank you daddy" you continued, your words messy and breathy as you picked up your pace "for everything you do for me everyday" you said, his cock feeling every bit as good as ever "for- for listening to me" you moaned "and taking care of me" his dick was so deep you could feel it in your belly, hitting your g-spot with each of your movements "and for letting me take care of you" you smiled, as he gripped your waist, savoring the sight before him "t-thank you so much daddy" you breathed, embarrassingly enough slowing down, your thighs on fire.
"you're tired" he murmured with amusement
"no 'm not" You shook your head, trying to pick up your pace and failing miserably
"no?" he asked, smirking like a bastard
"no" you denied again, smiling a little at your obvious lie
"lay down bunny" he tried to persuade you
"no way" you protested "I'm supposed to be treating you daddy, to be thanking you"
"trust me this pussy of yours is enough of a thank you for a million lives"
"daddy..." you pouted, trying to convince him
"what if I just help out a bit, hm?" he asked, watching your eyes brighten
"just a bit" you accepted, and in a moment, he was thrusting up into you, and only a moment later, you were moaning loudly at the feeling, the thought of doing all the work well out the window.
"thank you daddy" you cried, "I love you so much" you promised, your orgasm taking over you
"thank you babygirl" he grunted "for being in my life" he said, his words falling into your gaped mouth "for making everything better"
"for being you" he breathed, watching as you came all over his cock "for being the best thing that ever happened to me, bunny"
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seungkw1 · 15 days
Text
sketchbook — xmh
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♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none
“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”
you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.
“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.
“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”
“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”
“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.
“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.
“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”
he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.
“wait! i like this one.”
you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.
“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”
minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”
“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”
“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”
you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”
“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 
you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”
“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”
you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”
“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”
you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.
“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”
“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”
one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 
“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”
“well, what do you want to improve the most?”
you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”
“sure, why not?”
“because that’s weird!”
“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”
“you?? right now?”
“yeah.”
you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 
you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”
minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 
you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 
you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 
you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.
as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.
“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.
“you hate it.”
minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”
“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”
he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”
you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 
“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.
“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”
he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.
“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”
“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”
“you’re the best.”
“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 
another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.
you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 
you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.
delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.
“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.
you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 
“nothing, just…”
he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.
“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”
“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.
“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”
“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 
minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 
you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 
you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 
just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 
but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 
you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 
“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 
“i…” 
you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.
you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”
he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”
minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 
“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 
“y/n…”
you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 
he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 
your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.
“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”
“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”
you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 
“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 
“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”
he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”
he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 
“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 
you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.
“starving, actually,” he admits.
“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”
he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”
“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 
you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.
“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.
you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.
“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.
“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.
he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”
“um… i-”
“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”
“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.
his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 
“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 
“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”
your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 
“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 
suddenly, he kisses you. 
he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 
electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 
and it's all for you. 
a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 
“hao…” you start.
he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 
“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 
“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 
you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 
“and why didn't you tell me?”
he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”
you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 
finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 
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beomboomboom · 2 months
Text
Important
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genre: fluff, angst, established relationship
pairing: idol!Jihoon x reader
summary: Jihoon is a busy guy, everyone knows that. But why does it hurt so much when he can't even make time for his own girlfriend? All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so difficult?
warnings: a bit of swearing
note: This fic includes some lyrics from the song All My Love by SEVENTEEN (If you haven't heard this song, I strongly recommend you listen to it. It's such a good song!!) I hope you enjoy reading the fic <33
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"Am I really that important to you?"
There's tears in your eyes when you ask Jihoon the question you've been wondering about for the past few weeks.
Part of you knows you're just being irrational. Jihoon has other things he needs to focus on. He's an idol and a producer for fucks sake, it's practically guaranteed that he's going to be busy with work 24/7. So it's unrealistic for you to expect him to be able to make time for you whenever you feel the need for some company.
But the other part of you feels lonely. Coming home everyday to the sight of an empty apartment without Jihoon isn't exactly the most uplifting sight to see. And even when Jihoon on the rare occasion, does come home, all you are able to see is his passed out figure before he leaves in the morning while you still sleep.
All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so hard?
You receive your answer to that very question in the way Jihoon sits in a distracted silence when he hears your question. His eyes looking at his computer in a daze, too busy thinking up of ideas for new songs to produce rather than looking at the way you're about to burst into tears.
"Fine. If you can't even give me one second of your time and focus I'm going to leave," you yell angrily as more tears spring into your eyes. You quickly stand up from your position on Jihoon's couch and exit his studio, slamming the door behind you.
"WAI-" Jihoon starts to shout, finally finding his voice. His eyes widen while his hand is outstretched toward the direction of his door as if it's going to make you come back.
But it's too late.
You're gone.
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Jihoon knows he fucked up.
More than that actually.
He knows that it's his fault your relationship with him feels so one-sided. He has a habit of overworking himself. Oftentimes minutes in the studio turning into hours before turning into days of being cooped up producing songs, causing him to neglect the very people he wants to spend all his time with.
Jihoon wishes he could tell you how much he loves you, that he's not trying to neglect you on purpose. He just sometimes gets caught up in his work and doesn't realize when it's time to take a break. He wishes he could tell you that he misses you as much as you miss him, even though he doesn't show it.
But now he has no idea what he could possibly do to solve the predicament he's in. Jihoon could talk with you, but he knows he's not the best with confrontation. Jihoon could give you a few days of space, but he knows that it's probably not the best choice since the whole reason you got mad was because Jihoon wasn't around you enough.
So, Jihoon turns to what he's best at doing. What he does when he doesn't have a clue on what to do.
Songwriting.
Sometimes he'll write songs for his members, comforting them through his lyrics. Other times he'll write songs for Carats, wanting to share with them some encouraging and happy tunes.
But this time, he's writing a song for you.
Jihoon knows that writing a song for you won't make you forgive him instantly, but the most he can do is try to make things better a little bit at a time.
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It's 3 in the morning when you hear a knock at your front door. As the rain falls softly on your window, the only question that on your mind is, who the heck is outside your house at such an ungodly hour?
Feet shuffling along the cold floor, you sleepily walk over to your door and open it. Your sleepy eyes are still trying to make sense of the situation when Jihoon stands outside your apartment door.
In front of you stands a drenched Jihoon with puffy red eyes carrying his signature black backpack that is absolutely ginormous on him.
"Jihoon? What are you doing here?"
Mumbling something incoherently, you watch, still half-awake, as Jihoon slowly walks up to you and gently wraps his arms around you.
As you feel the wetness from Jihoon's shirt begin to seep into your own shirt, you try to softly push Jihoon away. But that only makes Jihoon hug you tighter. "Don't go...,"you hear him mumble as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, and that's when you realize that Jihoon is crying.
You're torn.
Seeing your boyfriend cry is a rare occurence and as much as you want to hug him tightly and kiss away all his tears, you want to run away because how can he come back to your apartment as if nothing had happened in these past few months.
"I'm sorry," Jihoon says, his voice cracking and mouth quivering, as he cries, letting his tears drop messily into the fabric of your shirt.
Taking Jihoon's face in your hands, you quietly rub away his tears which only makes him cry harder. Leaning into your touch, he takes hold of your wrist and gently rubs it. "I-I'm really sorry. You don't deserve a terrible boyfriend like me."
"No, don't say that. You know what, how about I get you a towel so that you can dry yourself off and then we can talk more, okay?
"Okay"
By the time you return from the bathroom, towel in hand, Jihoon is sitting on the couch and pulling his computer out of his bag. "oh...are you going to be working more?"
He can hear the disappointment in your voice when you ask the question, you're so used to him working all the time that you're not even angry ... you're just disappointed. Jihoon feels a wave of guilt wash over him as he realizes that all the things you said to him before were true, he was just too busy to realize it.
"Ah, no. I have something to show you," Jihoon says with a tired smile as he pats the seat on the couch beside him, inviting you to sit.
Hesitant, you take a seat next to your boyfriend and look at his computer screen where you can see him open a file. You then watch as Jihoon pulls out a pair of earphones and plugs them into the computer.
Putting the earbuds into your ears, Jihoon presses play as his eyes shake, nervously watching your face for any kind of reaction.
The second the melody of the song plays into your ears, you feel like crying out of disbelief. "You made a song for me?" you ask, suprise etched all over your face, as you look towards Jihoon's direction.
Nodding with a small but nervous smile, Jihoon then motions for you to continue listening.
And it's when you reach the part of the song where you can hear the lyrics sung by the sweet honey voice of your boyfriend, when you begin to cry.
Just likе a pouring meteor shower Please be the light in the dark sky I can do everything for you For you I just want to give you everything And that makes me feel small, a fool who only accepts It suddenly makes me hate myself And makes me feel sorrier towards you
"Oh- Jihoon-," you start to say with tears in your eyes as you close the gap between you and Jihoon and give him a tight hug, your face pressed against his chest. "This is beautiful," you continue on to say sincerely.
Blushing, Jihoon quietly mutters with a nervous laugh, "you haven't even finished the song, listen to what i'm trying to say."
Following Jihoon's instructions, you lean on him and quickly refocus your attention back on the song.
Though it was hard writing my feelings down And all I have is this song and these lyrics For you, for you, for you, for you I sing this song for you tonight So I can get closer to your love
My love only amounts to this But my feelings will never change, for you baby Even if my love only amounts to this I'll be your umbrella in the rain I'll protect you on all your days
By the time you finish listening to Jihoon's song for you, you're in shambles. "fuck- Jihoon, I love you so much you know? I'm still mad at you but I still love you so much," you say as tears roll down your cheeks. Pressing your forehead against Jihoon's, you lean in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.
Jihoon freezes for a moment before immediately tugging you closer to his body and reciprocating your kiss. "I don't deserve someone as precious as you,"he whispers before devouring your lips into another kiss.
When both you and Jihoon finally break away from each other to get some oxygen into your lungs, Jihoon gently takes your hands into his own. "I-I'm really sorry though. I was a terrible boyfriend these past few months, but I'm going to work on trying to improve myself. Even though I'll probably be busy with producing songs, i'll try to make time for you."
You let out a relived smile when you hear Jihoon's sincere words. "Okay, and I understand if you need time for other things too."
Jihoon gives you a small nod and a smile. "And to answer your previous question, of course you're important to me. For fucks sake you're my girlfriend, you're one of the most important people in my life. How can you not be important to me?" Jihoon says while cupping your face before continuing on to say," just because I don't show it, doesn't mean I don't feel it."
"I love you," he finally whispers with a smile as he places a small peck on your lips.
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