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#exciteme
nhloracle · 2 years
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queen0fm0nsterz · 8 months
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I have listened to both episodes of the podcast: expect an analysis (again) soon enough
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the-furies · 3 months
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PAKIDGE
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T I N Y
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carlyraejepsans · 2 years
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I HAVE QUESTIONS
Do you like bugs? And if so, what are your favorite(s)?
Who do you think is the most underrated character from Undertale?
What is your opinion on vampires?
You are awesome.
Favorite snack(s)?
What is your favorite day of the week?
Any little tips for aspiring artists such as myself?
And finally, feel free to not answer any of the questions! Have a lovely day/night!
i am moderately intrigued by bugs, and i enjoy a nice beetle from time to time!
alphys, my girl has the best arc in the game and she gets snobbed all the time
they're neat and i don't have big feelings about them BUT i drew this little vampire lady to test some CSP watercolor brushes a few years ago and i still really like her. here u go
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thank u :'D
grab some greek yogurt. add in a spoonful of mixed berries jam. drizzle in some honey. oh also also it's not technically a snack because we only do it for christmas and it's technically an aperitif but my mother makes these little slices of buttered bread with bits of smoked salmon and a shake of pepper on em that i ADORE and every time they have to tie me to the bedpost in the other room so I don't eat all of them before dinner even starts
saturday because we post cats. but also thursdays, out of vibes alone
you don't have to learn the basics to start out drawing your blorbos, you go in there head first drawing your blorbos and ram against those beginner's mistakes as hard as you can and slowly. Slowly work your way up the skill tree so you can draw you little guy better. also if you look back on your art and it looks like shit rejoice!! it means you're wayy better than you were at that time. learn to appreciate the things you did right back then, kiss your old self on the mouth and get back to work so what you're doing now will look wonky to a better future you too.
oh and also if you do digital, fuck adobe. clip studio is better but also reminder that piracy is your best friend.
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shekiko · 1 month
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writerpetals · 3 months
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be with you | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
// i was editing this to repost, but sometimes i just like to keep writing onto things that were supposed to just be drabbles.... so i wrote more to this one to make detailed and spicy. hehe hope you like it <3
When the week has been long and the stresses that overwhelm him have taken their toll, he loves nothing more than coming home to see you dressed up in an outfit that leaves close to nothing to the imagination. Your body against the soft sheets of the bed, inviting him closer while he tugs on a tie that had suddenly begun to suffocate him at just the sight of you. Your half-lidded eyes beg him to join you, to allow you to love him, pamper him, tend to his needs as he settles against the bed with his head hanging low from exhaustion.
“Baby,” you coo, positioning yourself on your knees to ease closer, loving arms wrapping around his neck from behind. “Relax. I’ll take care of you.”
The words are what he needs to hear most, eyes closing while allowing you to caress his shoulders tense with the frustrations that have been piling up. You lean closer, mouth drawing near his ear to nip at the sensitive lobe playfully, earning a groan in return while the tie he has been fidgeting with slips to the floor.
“Sweetheart,” he exhales the sweet name in a raspy tone, gentle fingers gripping the wrist resting on his shoulder to pull you closer, turning his face to meet your eyes, “you’re too good to me.”
Hiding your grin becomes difficult when he offers such praise, taking the moment to instead press your lips to his own needing affection in the gentlest forms when stress fills him. Your mouth lingers against his, burning the feeling of his skin on yours in your mind for the time being, loving how soft he could feel against you when you need him just the same.
“You deserve it,” you admit honestly after pulling away, hand reaching to begin popping a few buttons of his dress shirt loose. Your words are true, remembering all the times he went out of his way to care for you, pamper you, spoil you senseless. Giving your all to someone that has given even more is never difficult. “You take care of me when I need it most, so tonight I’m going to care for you.”
He has no intentions to protest, knowing he desires your love just as much, allowing you to take your time unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his bare chest after a few moments. Reaching to touch, fingertips graze over his heart, soft skin against your own, down his chest, teasing his stomach, noticing his muscles tense beneath your flesh before you reach to tug on the buckle of his belt.
Naturally, he falls back, body hitting the softness of clean linens and inviting you to straddle him while focusing on your task. His hands run through his hair, eyes never leaving you while watching you undress him, taking in the sight of you pulling on his belt before fumbling with the buttons and zipper of his slacks. A soft groan here and there fills the room whenever your hands brush over his hardening length, his need for release evident in the reaction to your most simple of touches.
“I want to make you feel good,” you confess after positioning his clothing to where only his briefs cover the thick, needy arousal bulging through a flimsy fabric. “I waited all week to be able to show you just how much you mean to me.”
“Sweetheart,” he repeats, calling for you to crawl up his body to reach his awaiting lips. The feeling of his skin against yours once more as he shows his appreciation through soft kisses has a shiver crawling down your spine, goosebumps forming over your skin and an ache settling between your legs.
The way his hands find your thighs on each side of him, gripping you tight to claim what is his, causes moans and whimpers to release against his flesh, electrifying both of your bodies. Once your hips begin to rock against him, slow enough to draw out a groan from deep within his chest, it only adds to the bliss, the anticipation, the excitement of having one another again after such a long week.
Gaining confidence, your kisses trail from his mouth to his jaw, pressing your lips over and over until you lower to his neck. Teeth scraping softly against his skin work him up enough to begin pushing his hips into you, allowing you to feel between your thighs just how much his composure begins to wear thin. He needs this, and he needs you.
“Patience, baby,” you giggle between kisses down his chest, smirking against his skin. The words only earn another groan, the second time out of a pure need to have you. “I need to make sure I take my time and ease all of your worries, tension, and stress.” By the time you're finished, your hands end up on his stiff length, teasing him through cotton to receive a gentle buck of his hips.
“I want to feel you, sweetheart,” he mutters, eyes closing and head falling back against the bed, “I want you to ride me.”
His words cause your heart to pound twice as hard, stomach filling with butterflies at how much the man before you desires your attention. Carefully, you ease off the bed, earning his gaze once again from the lack of your presence, until his teeth sink into his plump, bottom lip once your fingers hook into the straps of your lacy panties.
“I know, baby,” you tell him, hips swaying from side to side, teasing him with the sight of you removing your risque attire you wore only for him. As your panties pool around your feet, you reach behind you, turning toward him the moment your fingers unhook the clasp of your bra, peeking over your shoulder at the way his eyes lower to study the curve of your ass. You couldn’t help but to giggle, enjoying putting on the playful striptease for the moment.
But you knew it wouldn’t take much for him to lose control after you slipped the fabric from your shoulders, dropping the bra to the floor with a flick of your wrist, only for him to grip you by the hips and pull you closer with a squeak from your lips. Even though him pulling you against his body on the bed catches you off guard, you can’t say you’re surprised when his fingertips begin to brush over every curve of bare skin, finally getting to experience how good you feel in his hands before you would ease the tension of a stressful week. 
Before you would love him, tend to his needs, and show him how much he means to you. There’s no better feeling than being needed by the one you need most. Being desired. Being craved.
He makes it clear as you ease down onto his length, slower than he would like because he’s already so worked up. Every inch further into your heat earns a breathy groan, but his eyes never leave your body. His gaze explores you just as his hands had. The pressure of feeling so full of him gets the better of you in an instant, bracing yourself with palms on his stomach. 
“Ride my cock, baby,” he growls, hands tightening at your waist, “use me to feel good.”
Heat barrels into your chest from below at his words. He’s still thinking of you even though this night was supposed to be for him, yet you do as he says. You ride him just how you like, hitting the spots that make your legs tremble and from the look in his eyes you’re confident he loves it just as much. Loves seeing you on top of him, loves seeing the way your face twists as the pleasure takes hold.
“God, you feel so good inside me.” You’re not shy to give it right back, loving the noises he makes at any mention of how good he can make you feel. You rock against him a little faster, creating a delicious friction of skin against skin that has heat engulfing your body. You begin to shake from how deep he feels in this position, almost too much to handle as he begins pushing his hips into you from below. 
The familiar tug and warmth begins to take hold of your body. Every motion euphoric as you ride him to bliss, so overwhelmed while he whispers encouragements beneath you. 
“That’s my girl,” he groans, thrusting into you to match your rhythm. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel it.”
His words mixed with the bliss have you crying out his name. The first wave of pleasure bursts through you without warning, body doubling over to fall right into his arms. He holds you tight as you ride out the high, whimpering softly through the bliss, hips slowing but still feeling his long, deep thrusts beneath you. You’re shaking in his hold as you begin to come down, knowing watching you get off was as needed to him as his own release. 
Panting against his skin while he massages your back softly, slowly, you recover from the pleasure in no time. Once he senses you’re coming down, he gently guides your body to the body to slip between your legs. 
“Use me,” you whisper while repeating his own words, watching the surprise in his eyes. “Use my body however you like, and then come inside me.”
His nostrils flare as a deep groan builds in his chest, jaw tightening like he’s been starved forever. While he’s taking in your words, you guide him back toward your sensitive, dripping pussy. Taking him by the base of his cock and the other hand on his hip, you ease the tip inside of you, rising until he pushes himself all the way in. A gasp fills the room, suddenly so full of him again and so tender from coming hard. 
“Fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, inviting him so delicately to take all his stress, worries, and tension out on you. “Please…”
“God, sweetheart,” he growls, thrusting into you with a snap of his hips to earn another gasp, “you don’t know what you do to me.”
He rolls his body into you, thrusting himself deep and hard into your aching pussy. Your hips match his motion, arms wrapping around him to pull him close. Flesh against flesh, he fucks you just like that, getting lost in the moment, rhythm growing faster, harder, faster… until you’re crying out from pleasure all over again. He grunts, and groans, and tells you how good it feels, how wet you are, how you are all his.
Until he suddenly pulls away from you, falling back on his knees with a grip on your hips. He pulls your body up, one leg resting against his chest, the other fallen to the bed to give him the perfect view of his cock soaked in your juices slipping in and out of your cunt. He watches himself ease into you, taking things slower, drawing out the moment, then pulling back out to where only the tip is still inside. 
“Fuck, baby,” he exhales, one hand coming down on your mouth while his thumb toys with your clit. “I want to see you come again.”
You shiver at his words, not sure if you’re capable considering how overwhelming your first orgasm was while riding him.
“I don’t think I can…” you tell him honestly. Neither of you have ever been scared to speak your minds when you’re together, always feeling so comfortable and safe with one another. Conversations in the bedroom come as naturally as if they were over dinner, and you know you never have to shy away from him. 
“You can give me another, sweetheart.” He speaks gently while rocking his hips so softly it eases you into complete relaxation. He glides into you with a slow motion, settling there for a few seconds before pulling away. The thumb against your clit already has your legs shaking, sensitivity turning into full blown need once again. “Relax, concentrate. Focus on my cock in your sweet little pussy, baby. Feel my playing with your clit. Doesn’t it feel good?”
“Y-Yes…” Your eyes close, doing as he says and only paying attention to the sensation of him filling you over and over, the way he plays with your clit, how he tenderly strokes your thigh with his free hand. “It always… feels this good.” Your body melts into the bed, loving his slow, deep strokes of his cock and the easy way he plays with your clit. He has you aching between your legs in no time, the desire for release building with every second that passes. 
“It looks so fucking hot, too,” he groans, watching himself disappear inside of you once again. “God, baby, you’re so wet and I’m so fucking hard right now for you. You’re so beautiful like this, all spread out just needing me to fuck you.”
A surge of warmth barrels through you. You react to his words by squeezing yourself around him, so turned on once again, so hot and ready to come. 
“I love my girl like this,” he continues, picking up the pace a little, thrusting a little harder, circling your clit a little faster. “You’re such a good girl, baby. Come for me again.”
You’re gone by the time he stops speaking. The heat floods your body from between your thighs, the tension he so carefully built with his words and snapping as you cry out for him. Your body shakes as the pleasure takes hold, barely feeling him come closer to press himself against you. You ride out the bliss as his hips snap quick, desperate thrusts into you, fucking you fast, and hard until you’re both panting and gasping.
You come undone in each other’s arms, moans and whimpers filling the space. He spills inside of you, another wave of heat rushing through you until you can no longer think straight. His forehead falls to your own, riding out the bliss together before your bodies slow and it all becomes too overwhelming.
He pulls away to catch his breath, but he doesn’t let you go. He guides you to curl up next to him a moment before you both shower and clean each other up. His arm wraps around your body with your head in his neck, listening to each other’s breaths until they return to normal. Your body is spent from getting off twice, and his eyes are heavy after finally letting off steam after a long week. 
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, turning to press his lips to your forehead, “you’re too good to me.”
His words make you smile, running a hand up and down his chest as you fit so perfectly against him. 
“You spoil me,” you reply, offering a tired giggle. Now he’s the one smiling, placing another kiss, but against your lips this time. “Spoil me in the shower?” you suggest, making a full blown laugh bellow from this chest this time. 
“Absolutely,” he agrees, and you know there’s nowhere you would rather be after a long week than with him.  
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crttvset · 2 years
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EVAN SMITH YEAH WOOHOO YEHA
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR ELEVEN
in which a line is crossed, and a lie is told.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, fingering, oral (m receiving, allusions to f receiving), p in v (be like eddie and r! use protection!), use of mean nicknames (slut), ass slapping, hair pulling, minors dni
→ wc: 7.5k+
→ a/n: the smut has arrived! shout out to @abibliophobiaa and @myosotisa my loves for helping me, but also horny hours in general haha. the pep talks were very much needed and very appreciated.
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
11:00 ──────ㅇ─────────── 24:00
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
A drink. What you need is a drink. 
The moment Robin and Steve brought up the small get together, you’d agreed instinctually. It had been a long month, hard and full of life throwing unexpected punches your way, and the only way you could think to soothe it was with terrible mixed drinks in your friend’s kitchen. 
First, it had been the tire on your bike popping. Which in itself wasn’t a catastrophe, but you realized very quickly that going out and about around campus was nearly impossible on foot. You’d shown up to most classes late, not adjusting for the fact you were far slower when walking across campus than you were riding. And then it was your classes; the teachers were already upset as it was in your smaller classes regarding your perpetual tardiness, but to top it all off, every assignment seemed to not be enough. No matter what you submitted, what changes you made to essays sent back to you, it was becoming more impossible to maintain a resemblance of a respectable GPA. You’d nearly flunked a test in your humanities class, when you’d asked for a professor to go back a slide for notes they’d glared and refused the reasonable request. When you’d not understood a question on your literature homework and sent an email plenty of days in advance, the teacher only got back to you once the due date had passed. 
And the dates. The terrible, terrible dates of the month. 
There was the first guy, who had been kind enough. A simple meeting over coffee and by the time the lattes were cold, you knew there’d be no second date. That was fine. You could live with that.
The second guy had more potential. A first date in a bar was almost a red flag, but after a fun game of pool, you’d agreed to meet again. The second date was at a restaurant that you learned he’d taken his ex-girlfriend to; actually, you’d learned a bit too much about his ex-girlfriend that night. She was the only thing he could talk about, and when you’d later explained that over text for being your reason against a third date, he’d called you every crude name in the book. 
And the final guy. A guy you’d really liked, that you’d been messaging back and forth since a month before. He was a busy guy, a bartender and full time student, and you understood – you really did. But he was charismatic and lured you in over the phone, and you hadn’t been so giddy for a date in a while. It felt like there were sparks, like he might be the one.
He didn’t show up. Last night, you’d sat like a fool at the restaurant you two agreed upon for two hours before realizing he wasn’t showing. Sipped your way through two ciders, even picked on an appetizer of fries, telling yourself he’d show up. He was just busy. He’d show up. 
He never showed up. He didn’t even text you. The waiter had waived your bill for the night, but his look of pity only made your stomach twist worse. 
Pathetic. You felt pathetic. 
“We’re all getting together at my place tonight,” Steve had whispered to you during class that morning as you two were packing up things as the lecture ended, “Everyone’s just going to hang out, drink, let loose. You should come.” 
And so you came, overly optimistic about the entire idea. You didn’t even think to ask if Eddie was going to be here – even he couldn’t dampen your excitement at a break after the month you’d had, even with his recent mean streak. 
Mean. You’d never thought after that first night you’d be able to describe him that way. Cold, sure. Callous, perhaps. Indifferent, of course. But mean? Mean didn’t seem like something others saw Eddie as genuinely capable of. Steve always ranted about how good of a guy he was, Robin would tell fun stories of nights out with him and how much of a good time he was, Nancy considered the guy her best friend. You knew your new friends, and you didn’t take them as being the type to befriend someone so unkind. 
But you didn’t see the good guy, the fun guy, the best friend. Whenever Eddie Munson was around you, his guard was up and his words were sharp. They cut through your unbridled disappointment with ease, reminding you that you were not his friend. You weren’t even sure if you were an acquaintance. 
And sure, you took it too far at the diner. You could admit that, even before Robin scolded you. But to see him sitting with someone not from your friend group, to see him being so kind and endearing to someone new, had burned you with fury like no other. If he could treat some blonde he’d surely matched with on a dating app so sweetly, why couldn’t he afford you the same warmth? Someone he saw nearly weekly? 
So you went for blood. Except, you were the only one wounded in the end, after the silent treatment you’d had to endure as you watched Eddie clench his jaw and pretend you didn’t exist. 
“What are you drinking tonight?” Steve smiles when you enter his kitchen, brows still furrowed in careful thought over your miserable month, “I’m guessing something strong?” 
“The strongest thing you’ve got, Harrington,” you reply, trying to shake back into excitement. It was going to be fun. You were going to drink with friends, partake in silly conversations no one would remember come morning, and you were going to have fun. 
Steve holds up a bottle of vodka, a name brand you don’t care to acknowledge, along with a 2-liter of Coke, “Think this’ll work?” 
You nod, and he pours. When he hands you the crystal cup reeking of overpoured alcohol, you take a sip and nod. 
Oh, yeah. Two of these and I won’t even remember Mr. Stood-Me-Up. 
“I heard about your date,” Steve means well, but the reminder is the exact opposite of what you want. You’re quick to glare at Robin, who throws her hands up in defense. 
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you quip, taking a larger second sip. If you weren’t trying to pace yourself, you’d probably chug the entire thing, “Not much to talk about, anyways. Got some free food and alcohol out of it, at least.” 
“That’s good! I bet you dodged a bullet.”
I probably didn’t. “We can only hope.” 
Steve pours himself a drink as well as Robin, and you can hear Nancy and Jonathan already chattering in the living room. No sign of Eddie so far. Maybe he wasn’t coming, and you’d finally caught a break. 
“To forgetting the names of men who suck,” Steve chides as he raises his glass, and Robin mirrors him. You hesitate for a moment, a fraction of a second.
You were starting to believe it wasn’t them, it was you. You were the common denominator of all the terrible dates. Did sparks not fly with the Coffee Boy because you dampened the fuse? Was two-date-chump only talking to you about his exes because you didn’t provide anything interesting enough to take his mind off them? Surely, it had to be your fault that you were stood up the night before. Surely. 
You pull from your pity party, and nimbly raise your glass. The rim hardly brushes that of your friends’ cups, but you all throw back your poisons of choice regardless. They don’t seem to notice the way you’ve begun to float within your head, the way you’re crashing through violent waves of pathetic self-hatred. 
It was you. You’re the problem, and you’re the only one who can solve it. Eventually. 
Robin is dramatically gagging on what you think might be redbull and vodka as Steve silently grimaces at his straight whiskey, clearing his throat before he says, “Okay, I know you don’t want to talk about last night, but Robin mentioned you’ve had a few dates this last month. Anything worth sharing? Any luck?” 
There’s a snappy remark of clearly not on the tip of your tongue when the doorbell rings down the hall, and the three of you all turn your heads as Nancy calls out that she’s got it. 
HOUR ELEVEN - 2:00 AM
Once Eddie starts kissing you, he can’t stop. 
It isn’t soft, nor caring – the moment his hands meet the flesh of your hips, it’s bruising. He doesn’t even break for air as he fumbles with the knob blindly, giving a final twist of his keys before the door swings open behind you and the two of you stumble backwards into the sanctuary of his apartment. It’s all teeth, it’s all desperation, it’s the accumulation of a year of snide remarks and low-blow insults all coming to head as he kicks the door shut behind you and spins so that your back meets the wood. 
Your hands are tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck and– oh God, when did you reach up and grab at his hair in the first place? 
He groans at the force of your fist, and it suddenly doesn’t matter. You don’t care how they got there – you only care to keep them there. 
He finally breaks the kiss, spit trailing between your lips as you both gasp out breaths, “You-” he dives back in, capturing your lips between his in a harsh and quick action before another break, “fucking-” another break, another gasp. He remains close enough that each harsh exhale flows right into your mouth, down your throat and into your lungs, “infuriate-” this time, he pauses, not moving back in for another kiss as his forehead is pressed hard against yours, eyes wide open and boring into yours, “me.” 
The venom that laces the words don’t scare you. It’s all verbal aposematism, rehearsed and practiced hatred that bears no weight, not anymore. Not as his hips are digging into yours and another tug of his hair has him putty in your hands. 
You know the dance well. You know the next step. 
“Good.” 
His next kiss is even more vicious, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and making you whine into him, one hand finally unraveling from his curls to find purchase in fisting the leather of his jacket. There’s a fine line that neither of you are daring to cross, only toeing as teeth and tongues clash. 
This time, when he pulls away, you’re the one chasing after him. You don’t care about breathing; you care about his lips on yours, sucking all the smoke and oxygen from your lungs. 
 He’s the one to finally cross the line. A hand comes up to your throat, not nearly as rough as it should be, as he keeps you in place with the back of your head pressed to his front door. A pleading mewl leaves your lips of its own accord.
 “Oh, sweetheart, don’t be so desperate.”
The line’s been crossed, the chords all snapping between you two. There are no invisible strings tying you to the man before you, the man that has you aching between your trembling thighs and erratic breaths. Only gravity.
“Me? Desperate?” your voice nearly fails you as you lean into his touch surrounding your throat, preening forward so that your lips brush his, “I’m not the one fucking off to porn magazines that look like you, pretty boy.” 
You’re both on the same side of the line now as you watch his eyes darken. It’s a sensitive topic, a bruise you’ve chosen to prod out in the hopes that he’ll break at the same alarming rate as you. 
You need him to fuck you. You need him to use you, to throw any caution or revelations to the wind. You want him to push you so far you can’t remember your own name, let alone all the emotions that travel the channels between you. 
“Think you can do any better than my hand, baby?” he questions as he buries his head into the crook of your shoulder, breath and lips leaving a buzz along the skin he comes in contact with. His fingers tighten ever so slightly, and your head rushes with a weightless bliss. 
Your pulse is against his thumb, drumming beneath the pressure of it as you reply, “Do you think you can do any better than mine?” 
A dozen insinuations layer the words, and he catches every single one. Your lashes flutter into your eyesight, lids growing heavy as he lifts his face from your shoulder and looks at you wickedly, grin spreading treacherously. 
“Are you trying to tell me you touch yourself to me?” he taunts, pressing closer, “You thinkin’ of me at night when you get lonely, all desperate and pathetic, wrapped up in your own sheets? Do you wish it was my fingers, and not yours?” 
Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. “In your dreams, Munson.” 
“Of course,” he chuckles, “I thought that was a given. Don’t tell me you’re so dumb you’ve figured out I get myself off to your lookalikes, but not that I dream about you, sweetheart.” 
The thought of it makes your stomach flutter, your thighs clench. He’s quick to shove his knee between your legs, letting you drop so that your crotch nearly brushes his thigh. But the distance remains and no relief from friction comes, he makes sure of it as his fingers finally lift slightly, letting the blood rush back to your head and into your cheeks. 
“Is that what you were thinking about in the bathroom?” 
His movements finally falter. You almost have the upperhand again, you almost have him back in your palms, back down to your height in cockiness. 
You take his silence in stride, a smirk gracing your own face, “Oh, you were, weren’t you?” you pause, and drop a hand to his torso, nails raking over his shirt and making him suck in a sharp breath, “You thought I wouldn’t hear? You were being so awfully loud, y’know. Surprised you didn’t say my name.”
He breathes back to life, hand unwrapping from your throat to grip your chin, his thumb just barely making contact with your bottom lip as he tugs softly, “You would have fuckin’ liked that, wouldn’t you? As if I didn’t feel you get so hot and bothered by me on the bike,” it’s your turn to freeze, realizing your fears were valid, and he laughs lowly, “Oh, yeah, baby. I felt that. Hard to miss when you were clinging to me like I was your goddamn savior. What were you thinking about, hm? I bet you were thinkin’ about just that – me moaning for you, cumming for you. I bet it drove you fucking crazy, didn’t it?” 
“What were you thinking about in the bathroom?” you whisper as his thumb presses harder into your lip, “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” 
Your hand finally drops to its destination, cupping him through his sweatpants, wrapping around his girth. 
He’s big. Bigger than you had expected, and he knows you’re shocked by the way you still once more, cocking his head at you with the utmost confidence. 
He’s fucking lucky to be packing. It’d be a shame to be such an asshole and not have the ability to back up all his talk. 
“You want me to be honest right now?” he asks, a thread of seriousness binding his words. You don’t hesitate to nod, even with his grip on your chin, “I was thinking about your mouth. Thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. I was thinking about you on your knees and those eyes looking up at me, all teary as I fucked your mouth.” 
Your grip on him tightens, and you make the daring move to suck the tip of his thumb into your mouth, making eye contact as your tongue swirls around it. 
“Fuck me,” he groans, throwing his head back, his grip immediately falling slack on your face. You see the opportunity and take it, surging forward to latch your lips onto his exposed neck. You start with light kisses, pressing them in rapid succession down the vein that lays poorly hidden by the stretched skin, pausing once you get closer to where the expanse meets his jaw.
“I’m trying to,” you taunt before sucking hard. 
He moans loudly, echoing off the walls of his apartment, the hand still on your waist turning into an even more impossibly tight grip. The hand that once held your face has come up to tangle in your hair, gripping you by the roots and pulling you away just as the blood vessels on the surface have burst and bloomed in full shades of red and pink. 
Your scalp burns as he pulls you to be face to face with him, eyes hard as you keep your hand on his clothed dick. You can feel him twitch as your palm at him, no longer caring about being desperate. You were desperate. You wanted him to give up the game, set aside the chase, and ruin you. You wanted his neighbors to hear as you chanted his name like a prayer, as every memory of every reason as to why you resented him fled your system with each thrust of his hips that could pin you to the wall. 
“Is that what you want?” he’s no longer teasing you, his tone sounding as if he were asking for permission now rather than taunting you any further, “You want me to ruin you, sweetheart?” 
The chase is nearing its end, and you nearly shatter with anticipation. 
With one last trick up your sleeve, one last attempt to break him, you shrug as if you aren’t flushed and terribly flustered to the point of no return, “I guess. That’s one way to pass the time.” 
When he breaks, it is sudden, and it is unkind. One moment, your break is aching from being pressed against wood, and your core is throbbing as you consider dropping to his thigh to find your own relief. The next, he’s throwing you around carelessly as his mouth slots to yours once more. 
Just as it doesn’t matter how your hands found their way into his hair, it doesn’t matter how he pulls you from the door and navigates you to his couch. Your mind isn’t focused on where your body ends up, it’s focused on the feeling of his lips, chapped and pressing to yours eagerly. It’s focused on the way that the weight of his hands pressed tightly to your lower back feels. It’s focused on the overwhelming spice of his cologne, the smell of the night air still clinging to his cheek, the taste of his salt water as you dive under and let yourself begin to drown. 
He’s consuming you, lungs and all. Limbs and all. Mind and all. 
It’s a bad decision. This is going to be both of your downfalls, and you should stop before it goes too far.
You don’t stop it. Neither does he. All he does is throw you down to sit on his couch as he falls to his knees in front of you, bringing a palm to each knee and spreading your legs as he settles between them.
He’s the prettiest you’ve seen him yet. Even prettier than the first night. His lips are swollen pink, puffy and still lingering with your spit. Your mark on him, the first of many you need to leave, right along with the bruise on his neck. You wonder how hard you’d have to bite to bring blood tonight, you wonder which other spots on his neck would make him melt against you as you explored him fervently and left a whole collection of bruises that spell out your message very clearly – he’s mine for tonight.
His chest heaves as his eyes stare up into yours, hands gripping each of your knees. Even through the cotton, your skin is burning from his touch, your wildfire still thriving as you navigate this ocean he’s thrown the two of you into. A man-made river, more like it. It was made by his hand, it was created treacherously and with purpose against you, and yet you’re still here wading in it, also by his hand. 
“Tell me to stop,” he begs, unexpected as his hands squeeze you, his eyes zeroing in on his palms as they travel up to your thighs, pulling you closer and making your back slide down the cushion from the position you’re seated in, “Tell me you hate me.” 
For a second, you almost tell him you can’t. You can’t tell him to stop. Not as your leg lifts and his shoulder fits perfectly into the ditch of your knee, not as his hands creep further up to the band of the borrowed sweatpants. And once his fingers curl into the waist, knuckles pressing to your soft skin, you know you won’t. 
“Don’t stop,” you whisper, making his eyes shoot up to meet yours again, “I hate you, but don’t you fucking dare stop.” 
Quickly, at an almost impossible rate of speed, he yanks the sweats down off of you. They’re tossed behind him into a pile on his living room floor, uncared for and quickly forgotten. 
Once your skin is exposed to him, he’s planting messy kisses linearly up your shin, over your inner knee, until he reaches your thighs. Marks are left in his wake, shades of deep maroon fading lilac as he nips and sucks against them just as you had to his neck. 
“Show me yours,” he mumbles into your skin, fingertips pressing indents as he openly mouths over the hickies left behind. 
“What?”
“I showed you mine, now show me yours,” he insists with wild eyes, hair hardly contained by the bun that once contained the curls, “When you touch yourself, what do you think about?” 
“You,” you sigh out as he presses another kiss to you, even higher up now, growing dangerously close to your cunt. 
“What about me?” he pushes, staring up as he removes contact, “Use your words, baby.” 
“I-” you can’t think clearly, mind muddled with smoke and the image of him there before you, on his knees, “I think about your fingers instead of mine. How thick they are, how they’d feel.” 
His smile shows little satiation, “Go on.”
You’re so focused on getting the words out, you nearly don’t notice a hand loosening its grip on your thigh, inching up to your panties, playing with the lace edges. 
“I think about how deep you’d go, how you’d curl your fingers just- fuck,” you cut off with a gasp when his fingers slide beneath cotton, brushing over your wet folds. 
“Just fuck?” he mimics, pouting slightly, “Afraid I’ve never heard that one before. Might need you to demonstrate for me. How do I curl my fingers just fuck?” 
“Fuck you,” you whine, writhing beneath his touch as your ankles lock behind his head. 
“I’m trying to,” he pitches his voice to mock your own, and you regret ever saying the words to him. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head, “God, you want me to fuck you so bad, it’s making you stupid.” 
His fingers stop teasing you as he finds your entrance, circling only the tip of his pointer finger to gather the slickness. Your hips buck, the desperation clawing its way through your entire body now, leaving ash and destruction in its path before Eddie brings an arm across your waist to hold you down to the couch firmly. 
“Beg for it,” he commands, voice shooting straight into your chest, “Be a good girl and say please, yeah?” 
His finger still circles your entrance, teasing but never quite pressing in, leaving you a whimpering mess. You begin to wonder if there will be any sign of how hard his forearm is pinned against you. 
A battle of both your prides. He can feel you burning up now, he sees the flames dancing and he’s willing to play with them rather than give in to you. 
You have to bite your lip to avoid letting the please on the tip of your tongue slip out for him. You’re still fighting him, still defying him. 
“I have been far nicer to you than you deserve,” he continues his taunts, a grin growing when he catches the way you’re physically holding back, “We both know it, so just say it. Say the word, and I’ll keep playing nice.” 
His finger breeches your entrance slightly, and you gasp, head thrown back immediately, “When have you ever been nice?” 
He tsks, removing the tip of his finger, letting it glide up between your folds before it stops just short of your clit, “Oh, I’m always nice. You just never seem to notice.” 
You think about it again. All the acts of kindness that went under the radar, all the times you’d buried in an effort to continue to harbor detestation for the man before you. He’s right – he probably doesn’t realize it, but he’s far more correct than you’d give him credit for at this moment. 
“Please fuck me,” you whisper to the ceiling, before swallowing hard and leaning your chin back down, looking him in his eyes as you decide to give him more than he asked for, “Please ruin me.” 
You’ve watched a mirage of emotions flush across his face on every possible occasion. Anger, distaste, aggression, laughter, annoyance. But you’ve never seen want quite like this grace his features. 
“Gladly.” 
His fingertip circles your clit, once, twice, three times, applying the perfect amount of pressure to have you crying out before he’s removing his forearm and nearly tearing your underwear to move it to the side and thrusting two fingers into your desperate cunt immediately. 
You sob out and nearly double over, the sting and stretch making you keen as he wastes no time. You’ve said the magic word, you’ve played his game, and now, he’s returning the favor. 
He’s playing nice. And, God, is nice quite the word to describe what he’s doing to you as he pumps his fingers into you, thrusting them in as deep as his knuckles allow before he curls them and brushes the spot that could make you scream with the right skill set.
He has the skill set. He notes your clenching on his fingers, and he curls again, with more intent this time. 
Maybe the thin walls only apply to the inside of his apartment, if you’re lucky. 
“Is this what you want?” he questions, leaning in so close to you that you feel his breath wash over you, “Is this what you meant by ruining you?” 
You nod, finding it becoming increasingly harder to speak as you gasp, “Y- Oh, fuck. Yes. Ple- fuck. Please.” 
He pauses, and you nearly scream out in frustration and protest before he rips your underwear off of you, dragging it down your legs and forcing your ankle to unlock from behind his head as he fights with the flimsy piece of cotton. You expect him to throw it, to let it join the sweats, but instead, he brings them to his face. He’s wolfish as he looks up at you, taking a deep breath in with the cotton pressed to his nose, not saying a word but watching you clench around nothing as he finally tosses the panties over his shoulder.
You see them catch on the coffee table, nowhere near the sweats. 
“Smell so sweet, baby,” he coos, bringing his fingers back to you, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips, “I might just have to tast-” 
A phone ringing cuts him off. The trill cuts through the silence, piercing both your ears, making you look at each other in fright. 
“Don’t answer it,” the words burst out before you think them over. You don’t care about your friends right now. You don’t care about the bet.
You care about his fingers back inside you, curling and hitting that spot you’ve spent endless nights fighting to find without success. You care about getting his clothes off of him, of your eyes tracing over his skin and the ink you’ve yet to see. You care about his cock, springing to attention, before he’s sheathing it inside of you and bringing you both to utter bliss. 
A phone call is at the bottom of your priorities right now. You just don’t care. 
“It’s your phone,” he counters, glancing behind the two of you to where your phone is buried in the heap of black clothing, “I’m not answering it. But…”
“I’m not answering it, either.” 
“If we don’t answer-”
“Eddie, I could fucking care less,” you sit up roughly, leaning in as close as you can in the compromising position, “We’re not answering it.”
The phone continues to ring, and he looks between you and it in clear confusion, “They’ll just keep calling-”
“Let them,” you insist, ���If you don’t get your dick in me within the next minute, I’ll call this entire thing off,” you add on the last part as you reach out and your legs fall off his shoulders, hands replacing where your knees once rested as you bring his lips into yours. 
Teeth, tongue, salt water, ash. It drowns out the final few rings as you continue to tug on Eddie feverishly, forcing him to rise from his position on the ground and kneel on the edge of the couch, a hand balancing him upright by gripping the back of the couch. Your kiss is all the convincing he needs. 
“Fuck, fine, fine, I-” he cuts off, removing himself from you long enough to shrug off his leather jacket, to reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, yanking it over his head. The bun has officially unraveled to completion, curls flowing down over his collarbones and shoulders. You can’t keep your hands off him, fingertips immediately pressing into the exposed skin, “Just give me a second.” 
He stands, and you whine, making him snicker as he kicks off the grey sweatpants.
“So impatient,” he teases, and you watch his face light up in delight as you can only bite your tongue in response. There’s something more there, something to be considered later. Later, when you aren’t aching for him. Later, when the moment of desperation has passed, when his waves retreat from your shores and you find yourself capable of breathing fresh air once more. 
Later is not now.
The moment he’s down to just his boxers, you’re done waiting, doing as he had for you and dropping your knees to the carpet below. 
“Hey, what are you doin-” he’s interrupted by you leaning forward, looking up at him intently as you kiss the tip of his dick through his boxers. Your lips come in contact with the wet spot clearly forming, and you can see the shiver roll down his spine, “Oh, fuck. What the Hell happened to me… me getting… me getting my dick in you…” He’s trailing off, unable to focus as your fingers slip beneath the waistband and tug down, his dick slapping against his exposed stomach.
“It still counts if you fuck my mouth,” is all you say as his boxers pool at his ankles, and you don’t even wait for him to step out of them. 
Your phone is ringing again. You can feel the vibrations through the floor as you wrap a hand around his base, as you lean forward and place a proper kiss to his leaking tip, swirling your tongue in the precum. 
This time, the two of you don’t argue about answering it. It’s hard to as your mouth is full of him, and his is full of curses.
“Jesus Christ, I- Fuck, right there,” he’s gasping as you wrap your lips around the tip fully, just as you’d done with his thumb, sucking gently and making his hand fly down to rest on the back of your head.
You bob down a few times, hollowing your cheeks and taking him deeper and deeper until your nose presses into the coarse hairs resting at the base. You pause, letting your nose press into him as you breathe deeply, feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water, just as he described, and you take pride in the way he can’t even look at you now. 
You pull back, letting him drop from your mouth, smiling widely, “Better than your hand, right?” 
“Fuck off,” his hand rest at the back of your head grips the hair there, tangling up as he shoots you a glare. 
“Say it’s better than your hand, and I’ll fuck you off,” you press, letting a hand travel to fondle his balls, pinching the skin delicately, watching his reaction roll through him like waves.
“I- Fucking obviously,” he hisses as you smile, leaning down and pressing kisses along the shaft, “God, of course your mouth is better than my fucking hand. Of course it fucking is.”
“It better be,” you goad before taking him back into your mouth. This time, you suck harder, and his grip on your hair is painful once more. 
“Shit.” 
He’s at a loss for words, devolving into guttural groans and babbling moans as you quicken your pace, determined now.
You wanted to ruin him. After a year of his bullshit, after suffering through every fight and every argument, every passive glare and every turbulent comment, you want to make them man standing over you crumble to pieces. 
Except he wasn’t just crumbling, he was shattering. Splintering apart as his hips started to thrust to meet your mouth, as you choked around him and refused to let up, resorting to stuttering inhales through your nose as you pressed your face back to his pubes, swallowing accidentally and making him nearly scream. 
“Shit. Shit- stop. I’m going to f-fucking cum, stop,” he’s pulling you off of him suddenly, gasping for breath, not letting you refuse and push him over the edge. 
You’re smug as you lean onto your heels, wiping your mouth clean of the spit that strings from your bottom lip to his red tip with the back of your hand. 
“I think I win,” you state plainly, as if you weren’t currently taking heaving breaths, desperate to catch your breath and have his hands back on you. 
“Win? Wh- It’s not a fucking competition,” he scowls, raking a hand down over his face, chest flush.
“It is, and I fucking won.”
“Yeah? You think you won, baby?”He recovers quickly, you’ll give him that. He goes from a complete mess to a force to be reckoned with in an absolute instant, stepping out of his boxers and kicking them from his warpath before he reaches down to tug you to your feet, “In that case, if this is a competition, I think I deserve a second chance.”
You open your mouth to be a smart ass, to say something cruel or something mean, but he steps back before you have the chance. 
The look of want has turned stormy, confident and eliciting. A hurricane beckoning to you as he snaps his fingers. 
“Take your fucking shirt off, and get on the couch, all fours.” 
“I-”
“Now.” 
There’s no more fires, no more oceans, and no more petty arguments left in you. You listen to him. 
You throw off the sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, as he goes to one of the tables beside the couch and opens a drawer roughly. 
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, unhooking your bra as well, fully naked and aware that his eyes weren’t on you yet, “You just keep fucking condoms in your living room?” 
“Who said I was looking for fucking condoms?”
“Oh, my bad. I just assumed. Should have known you were getting me naked just to go searching for fucking Narnia in your drawers.” 
You were wrong. He was looking at you, and you’re only made aware by the sharp slap across your bare ass at the comment. It makes you spin quickly, looking at him and his set jaw. 
“Couch. All fours. Now.” 
“You’re such a sore loser,” you snark, taking a few steps back, trying to ignore the way the sting on your backside has your clit throbbing. 
“You have no idea, baby,” he says without a hint of joking, looking back down into the drawer and continuing to dig as you turn away from him again. 
Despite feeling exposed, you do as you’re told – you get onto the couch on all fours as he requested, knees digging into a surprisingly soft cushion that surely hadn’t felt that way earlier in the night when you’d attempted to sleep on the piece of furniture. You don’t dare to glance back at him over your shoulder when the drawer finally slams shut, hearing his heavy breathing as he returns to you being enough to force you to shut your eyes and take in a sharp gasp. 
“Still feeling like a winner?” his voice winds around you, nearly choking you as you feel a feathering fingertip trail across your lower back. 
“Always,” you lie breathily, voice betraying you as it shakes. 
You feel the couch dip from behind you, legs spreading as Eddie fits himself between your calves, one hand latching onto your hip.
“God, I can’t wait to fuck the brat out of you.” 
Without warning, he’s lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in, taking all the breath from your lungs as you collapse down onto your elbows and your cheek brushes the cushion of the couch. 
It burns, his cock forcing you to stretch and accommodate you, filling you at an unbelievable rate. 
You knew he was fucking big, but you hadn’t considered the consequences until this moment, as he truly feels as if he’s just begun his ruining of you. 
“Fu-” the curse is lost in your throat, a small gasp as you press yourself down even further into the couch, mind swimming. 
“Oh, no,” he tuts, sounding completely unaffected until he leans down over you as he bottoms out. When he gets closer, you catch it – the hitch in his breath, the way he pauses before he can speak, “That won’t do, sweetheart.”
He brings a hand back to your throat, just as he had when you two first entered the apartment, when the fight for dominance first began. It’s more from the pressure of his forearm across your chest, but the pressure is still applied on both sides as he guides you to straighten up your body against him, making him hit new angles that have you hissing out. 
“I said on all fours, not just waving your ass in the air like some slut,” you clench around him at his words, and he chuckles breathlessly, “You like that, don’t you? You like being my fucking slut.” 
You can only moan in response as he slowly pulls back his hips, feeling every inch of him beginning to retreat from you at an agonizing pace. 
“You’re pitiful,” he groans into your ear, pressing his thumb further against your throat, cutting off the circulation for only a moment. Just long enough to send a rush to your head, “You say you hate me, say you can’t fucking stand me, but get cock drunk just from me putting it in. I’m only getting started and you’re speechless.” 
You can only continue your pathetic whimpers, reaching back to grasp onto him before he tuts once more. 
“Pathetic, baby.” 
He slams back in, letting you drop forward. This time, you keep yourself up on your hands, letting out more small gasps, all of the noises getting half stuck on your tongue. 
“But you’re winning, right?” he taunts, accentuating each word with a thrust as he begins to pick up his pace, “You’re the winner here, right?” 
You don’t answer him, nearly drooling when he reaches forward and grabs up your hair, curling it around his wrist carefully before he pulls. It hurts, it makes you clench down on him, it has you babbling out nonsense you’re completely unaware of. 
Each time he snaps his hips forward, his skin collides with yours, ricocheting off the walls around the two of you.  Your arms shake, but you stay steady, refusing to collapse beneath him and the euphoria that scathes you. 
He pulls your hair harder this time, making you arch your back into him, “Tell me you hate me.” 
You cry out, feeling him hit even deeper as his free hand forces your hips to meet every thrust. 
“Say it, baby. Tell me just how much you hate me,” he huffs out, clearly barrelling as quickly to his own release as you are, “Say you hate my guts,” another sharp thrust, and his balls slap against you, catching your clit and making your knees shake, “Say you can’t stand me. Go ahead, baby, say it.” 
“I hate you,” you weakly respond, eyes tearing up as you feel your gut twist. Your fire, your blooms, his ocean. He’s making good on his promise – he’s ruining you, and you’re reveling in the wake of it all. Embers char you from the inside out, and your brain fogs over in pleasure. 
“Say it like you mean it.”
“I m-mean it,” you gasp when he reaches around, chest pressing to your back, finger hovering over your clit, “Fuck, right there, please. I mean it. Please, please-”
“Say it again, like you really mean it this time, and I’ll let you cum.” 
He stills, deep inside you, waiting with bated breath as his chin ghosts over the back of your shoulder. You stare straight ahead. If you glance down, you’d find your hands turned to fists, his ring still glittering on your finger. 
He’s destroyed you. To unimaginable levels. You can’t comply with his request, not without becoming a liar, because it occurs to you that the man currently wrecking you is not a man you’re capable of hating. You hated the situation the two of you were in, you hated the year wasted, you hated the looming pressure of your friends awaiting a return call, you hated the words exchanged between the two of you with the intention of cutting deep. You hated many things surrounding him, but you didn’t hate him. 
At Eddie’s core, he is still the man you first met. He’s finally drowned you, dragged you to the bottom of his ocean, and you can see that now. The man that first reeled you in at the bar never left, simply shrank away, hid himself away from you for some unknown reason that you hate. The man that dazzled you, enticed you, provided you with the opportunity of safety still exists. 
“I hate you,” you grit out, fisting at the cover of the cushions, your entire body on edge. From him, from revelations, from a build of hate that had been misdirected for far too long. 
“Good,” he gasps out, mouth falling open and against your skin, teeth grazing you, “Then this changes nothing.” 
You don’t have time to ponder, or wonder why he didn’t mention the feeling being mutual. Once the words leave both of you, his finger connects with your clit, working an expert pattern that has you preening as his vigorous thrusting returns. It’s harsher than before, pain and pleasure blurring together as your scalp aches, your vines tighten, and your flames erupt. 
Your vision whites out, and you don’t hear your screams of relief as much as you feel them. Your throat is hoarse, tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and the tension vanishes from your muscles.
Your arms collapse finally, and you don’t fight the way your cheek presses against rough fabric as his hips begin to stutter, his own ecstasy flooding over him before he’s crashing with you.  
The two of you stay that way for a second, skin on skin, words lingering in the air, threatening to vanish. You don’t care – you match your breathing to his as he doesn’t pull out immediately. 
A vibrating comes from the floor amongst the shared bliss, both of you too fucked out to move to go answer the phone. The money doesn’t matter anymore, not to you. 
Everything aches. You come to realize just how rough the two of you had treated each other, pains ringing out from your throat, from your ass, from your abused cunt. Your knees are surely marked from the couch and floor alike, your scalp is screaming in relief without Eddie’s grip against it. 
You don’t regret it. You don’t regret any of it, except a singular lie.
I hate you. 
What a brilliant, foolish, laughable, bullshit attempt at a lie.
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hitomisuzuya · 1 year
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IMAGINE wanderer with breeding kink 😭😭😭 IM HFIWJDJW—
imagine a scenario where reader is super popular with guys because she is pretty (but she doesnt know that) and wanderer just gets possessive and once they get home, he bends her over the table and just keeps going no matter how much she cries that it was too much and he say something about how he should knock her up so everyone knows that she is his- 😩😩😩
Wanderer x fem! reader. Smut. Breeding kink. Praise. Usual insecurities about looks.
Tagging @xxventiswindblumexx @kichikichiko @that-one-gay-writer1227
Wanderer was disgusted with the sight unfolding in front of him. It was a common sight for him. There were two boys giving you sweets and declaring their love for you in a loud way to get your attention.
He supposed he couldn't blame them. He has done the exact same thing to you, except not in a gushy, puppy dog in love way. A very abrasive standoffish way. <3
They were pissing him off.
And so where you.
Because you said that thing. That thing he always hated.
"Guys, please. I'm flattered, but I don't even see why would say I'm pretty?" You were so polite about it, always not accepting their gifts and praise they practically puked all over you.
It made him sick.
Wanderer did what he always did. "What about my glare doesn't say fuck off and stop wasting your time," he snarled in a low, dangerous tone. He snatched the love letters and a box of candy from them.
The candy! He didn't know what was worse. You putting yourself down or the candy.
Wanderer's anger and jealousy seemed to dance and vibrate along your skin.
"Nahida is going to be so pissed at me. She already gave me two warnings for burning this shit right in the street," Wanderer grumbled, using Anemo in a way that always impressed you. He used the wind to fan the flames of the cooking pot outside of a cafe in Sumeru City to burn everything the boys had given you. You genuinely didn't think that was possible. He was so angry that the flames should've instantly extinguished.
Once he was done, Wanderer grabbed your hand and started the short journey back to your home. He didn't say one word to you. He slammed the door closed the behind him.
"It's okay, I didn't accept anything. I couldn't. And besies I'm not even--"
"Shut your mouth. Now," he growled. He knew exactly what was going to come out of your pretty mouth and he couldn't stand to hear it again.
He pushed you roughly against the wall, pouring passion into your mouth with deep, mouthed kisses. You shivered, breathless. It felt like he was kissing praise into you.
For what?
"You are so fucking beautiful. I practically fall on my knees everyday because of your beauty. Me. On my knees for someone? It's funny how the world works, isn't it?" he chuckled, tugging on your lower lip before sinking his teeth into your neck.
You hissed in softly in pain, but it was quickly soothed by heavy grinds of his teeth and sucking, nursing his tongue against your skin in a soothing way.
Again, it felt like it was drooling, sucking, and biting praise onto your skin.
Why?
"You taste so good I just can't help myself. I get drunk everytime." he babbled while he sucked, his hands tearing at your clothes and throwing them carelessly on the ground. "It's like the finest wine, the fruity flavored ones that you like but I hate."
He plunged two fingers inside of you, barely giving you time to adjust before he added a third finger, hooking it inside you. It made your body twitch with pleasure, making you moan and whine.
Wanderer only meant to finger you a little, just to make you cry and moan and plead. His fingers were pouring that praise again.
You thought you were beginning to understand why.
When Wanderer roughly gripped your hip to hold you still when you started bucking your hips into his fingers, crying out in the most delicious way.
He had a literal aha! moment. He tapped his fingers against your hip, burying his fingers inside of you with extra force to convey his excitement. It nearly made you cum on his fingers.
"I have an idea! It's one that will end all this drivel that spills from your mouth about your beauty." He was smirking intensely in excitement. He gripped your hip tightly for a moment, kneading his fingers into your skin. "You see I have always noticed something about these hips."
Turning you around so quick it stunned you. He bent you over the table. Licking up your neck, he gripped your hair, pulling your head back so that his lips were right next to your ear. "They are perfect for fucking our children into."
You gasped when Wanderer took out his cock and roughly snapped his hips as he thrust inside of you. He always liked to be naked while he fucked you, but he just couldn't wait to breed you. It was something he obsessed about actually.
"Ah! AH! Scara, please! I can hardly breathe!" You cried out, making him laugh.
"Ha, I don't want to hear it from you. Your hips were always begging me to fill you full. This is what you want to, isn't it?" He thrusts were relentless, your fingernails digging into the table to ground yourself, because his intensity made you dizzy. "Now use your words and tell me you want a family with me. Hurry up because I am almost close to filling you."
His hand reached around until he could feel something. He pressed on the bulge in your stomach. You screamed with pleasure.
"Say it! Say it!" Wanderer growled, using your hair as leverage to bury himself inside of you.
"Scara! Scara! Please! It feels so good my head to spinning!" You cried out, your walls clamping tighter the more he thrust.
Wanderer flipped your over so he could see the bulge poking in your stomach. It sent such a thrill through him. "Then say it!"
"Yes, Scara! Yes! It's what I want!" Your whole body shook as you climaxed, tears falling from your eyes.
"Now you understand," he groaned, cumming inside of you. He never stopped thrusting. "I hope you know that we are going for multiple rounds. You have a lesson to be fucked into you. Brace yourself while I make you a mother. We are going all night so I can do it right the first time!"
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celiastjamesoscar · 9 months
Text
Sweat and Serendipity
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: While working out at your local gym, you run into someone you haven’t seen before.
Warnings: R and Sam both being horn dogs
Word Count: 4.9K
AN: this was from a request a couple days ago and I hope you enjoy it! It’s a little bit shorter than my other work but I didn’t want to stray too far from the request
The upbeat melody of ‘Funky Town’ rang throughout the pitch-black room, causing Y/N to stir in her sleep. The woman groaned as she rolled over and fumbled around the end table by her bed before finally grabbing her phone. She shut off her alarm and then checked the time, 4:30 am. She let out another groan as she forced herself up in bed.
She stared blankly at the wall with a zombie-like expression on her face. She needed to go to the gym this morning, fearing she might break her cycle of going at the ass-crack of dawn. And she also knew that if she didn’t go just this one time, she would never go back again this early.
After a few minutes of blank staring, she swung her legs over to the side and pushed herself off the bed. Her bare feet met with the cold wooden floor, sending shivers up her spine. She stumbled into her bathroom and flicked on the lights, instantly shutting her eyes as she covered them while mumbling a curse word.
Once her eyes had adjusted to the blinding lights, she moved her hands and slowly opened her eyes. She looked just as she felt: a soldier who was returning half her weight, or much like a zombie who had been stuck in a mall listening to ‘Dance Monkey’ on repeat since the start of the apocalypse.
When she saw the bags under her eyes, the memories from last night flooded her mind.
She was staying at her friend Anika’s house, and they were celebrating the release of Speak Now (Taylor’s Version). The worst part about the night was that she was so wasted she couldn’t remember any songs from the album. Hell, she doesn’t even know how she got home. The few things she could recall were faint memories of Anika violently sobbing during ‘Last Kiss,’ and she also vaguely remembered herself talking about Rhea Ripley and wanting to get pinned by her.
Shaking off the bad memories, Y/N put in her contacts and brushed her teeth. When she finished up in the bathroom, she turned off the lights and went back into her room. She opened up a dresser drawer and grabbed a pair of socks and a sports bra, along with some shorts. She sat on her bed and put her socks on, then stood up and quickly changed into her shorts. She took off her shirt and put on her bra, and then put the shirt back on. She raised her left and smelled herself, “smells fine,” she mumbled as she packed her gym bag; it was just a spare change of clothes and some shampoo and condition. She hated showering at the gym, but she also hated driving home sweaty. She swung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed her phone and earbuds, and walked toward her bedroom door. She did one final sweep to make sure she didn’t forget anything before she left the room and shut her door.
Y/N made her way into the kitchen and grabbed her jug of water that she left on the island. She filled it with some ice and then filled it up with water. Once it was full, Y/N put the lid back on and grabbed a protein shake from the fridge. She made her way to the door with her water jug and her ‘breakfast’ drink in hand as she held her car keys and went out the door. Y/N locked the door and walked down the stairs into the lobby, and left the apartment building. She walked across the street to the parking garage, found her car, got in, and started it.
Y/N sat in her car for a few minutes, debating if she really wanted to go to the gym today, and decided that if she did go today, that would mean she could eat more cake at her cousin’s birthday party that was later today. Y/N smiled to herself at that thought, backing her car up and driving towards the gym, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel with excitement. She opened her protein shake and drank it throughout the drive as The Killers filled the silence. The sky was still dark with dusk hours, but Y/N appreciated the beauty of the early morning. The Big Apple was always hectic, but the morning hours always seemed peaceful.
As she pulled into the gym’s parking lot, she noticed a single car, and it immediately caught her attention. At most, there were three people at the gym this early; herself, a shy dude in his early twenties but shredded, and a decently attractive soccer mom. But this car didn’t belong to either of them, so that meant someone new was here, and it sparked her interest.
Frattini’s was a small gym and not a popular one at all, so the people that worked out there were either locals or people who hated crowded gyms. Y/N was the latter; she hated working out with many people around, and she also had a personal vendetta against Planet Fitness, but not that that mattered. The gym was an old one and had been around long before Y/N was born, but she loved it nonetheless. The building was old, and the metal roof sometimes leaked when it rained. The machines were old, and the padding was worn down on almost all of them, and sometimes the treadmills didn’t work, but Y/N would rather die a death by a thousand cuts than ever step inside a Planet Fitness or any other gym for that matter. This place was like Y/N’s second wife, falling short of Cate Blanchett, and she would never leave her for a younger, more modern gym, no way.
She finished off her shake, grabbed her bag along with her phone, water jug, and earbuds, stepped out of her car, and walked towards the doors. She used her green key fob to unlock the door and walked inside. She could hear the faint sound of Guns N Roses playing over the speakers as she walked up to the front desk and scanned her key fob again. Y/N didn’t know why she had to scan it-she believed it was a way of checking in-but she was a rule follower and did what she was supposed to.
After she checked in, Y/N walked past the desk and opened up the door to the actual gym. She didn’t see who was there with her, but she knew she would find them eventually. She walked about ten feet from the door and stopped before the red cubby holes. Y/N lightly laughed as she saw a light pink gym bag in a cubby towards the middle. She was slightly glad that the stranger didn’t take the one on the end of the right side, as that one was hers, and she hated it when someone would place their stuff in it. Well, it wasn’t technically hers, but everyone who came here throughout the day had their own personal cubby, so she naturally got defensive over it.
When Y/N walked past the door, to the left, there was a wall that was lined with treadmills, and that wall cut back into a smaller section of the gym that’s used for, well, Y/N didn’t quite know what that side was for, she just knew that the flooring was turf and it slightly agitated her. On the same wall that had the cubbies, it was lined up with three stair masters that Y/N hated, along with a pull-up machine, two different hip abduction machines, and some weird core machine you twisted on that scared Y/N. The second row included more machines; a couple of ellipticals, two bikes, a lat pulldown, one chest press, one tricep extension, and a bicep curl. There was a third row, but Y/N didn’t mess with that stuff too much except for the linear leg press. On the right wall was a full-length mirror that took up the entire width of the wall, with a rack of dumbbells toward the left side of the wall and leg machines with a squat rack towards the right. On the wall across the cubbies was the deadlift bar with another full-length mirror in front of it. And if Y/N walked to the left of the deadlift set, she would enter that turf area she hated.
Y/N placed her bag in her cubby and put her earbuds in as she walked over to the linear leg press with her water jug. She put the right amount of weighted plates on it and moved to lie down on the backrest. Y/N pushed the bars out that kept it locked, and when she brought it down and went to push up, her left eye caught something. She turned her head to see what had caught her eye, and her knees buckled, causing the leg press to come down quickly. Luckily, her legs didn’t go inward, and they just slammed into her chest, causing her to lose her breath.
Over on the turf was a captivating Latina doing pull-ups. She wore leggings with just a bra, and Y/N had to wipe the drool off her chin as her eyes ogled the woman’s back muscles. However, when her legs buckled, and the press came down on her, it caused a loud bang to echo throughout the vaguely empty gym, which caused the woman to drop down from the bar and face Y/N.
Y/N sent the woman an awkward smile followed by an awkward wave, and she mentally cursed herself for it. But she changed her mind when the woman let out a small laugh and wiggled her fingers at Y/N, giving her a playful wave before returning to her pull-ups.
When the woman turned around, a giant grin overtook Y/N’s face while she did a fist pump, clearly amazed at herself. Y/N then decided to continue her workout and began doing proper leg presses.
After she finished her first set, she started listening to music while subtly moving her eyes over to the turf side. She probably would have checked the woman out by now, but the turf also had mirrors on its wall that you could see the rest of the gym out of. So if Y/N had checked the woman out, the Latina would have seen Y/N nearly kill herself because she had tried to. The alluring woman had moved to cable rows, and Y/N had to pry her eyes away from the woman’s biceps, which were glistening with sweat.
‘I just wanna lick-ouch!’ Y/N thought as she continued her creepy staring but was cut off when her legs gave out again, causing the woman to look over at Y/N. This time, Y/N didn’t meet her gaze as she pushed up on the press and locked it. She got up from the seat and re-racked her weights. She refused to do leg stuff simply because she needed her leg strength to mow down children at her cousin’s birthday and not because the woman of her dreams kept making them weak.
Y/N grabbed her jug and phone and moved to the lat pull-down. She decided she would do her pull again, and also because she wanted her back to look good in case the beautiful woman decided to leave scratches on it.
Ten minutes had passed, and Y/N finally finished her set. She had started to work up a sweat and wiped it off with her shirt. Unbeknownst to her, the woman from earlier had caught the action and stared at Y/N’s abs. Sam felt she had looked at the stranger’s abs, but she couldn’t help. She thought the woman was a little awkward just based on their interaction from earlier, and against her better judgment, Sam wanted to know her better. She waited until Y/N moved to the chest press before walking toward her.
Y/N had been so focused on not embarrassing herself anymore that she didn’t see the woman approach her until she was standing in front of her. She took one earbud out to listen to the woman. “Are you done with this?” Aphrodite asked while gesturing to the lat pull-down machine. “Oh, yeah. Go ahead,” Y/N said while looking at the woman, “hey, I am sorry about earlier.”
Sam looked at Y/N with a raised eyebrow before she released what the woman was apologizing about. “Don’t worry about it; I’m just glad you aren’t hurt too bad,” Sam says in a gentle tone as she sits down on the seat of the machine. Y/N nods her head at Sam’s words and continues with her workout.
Twenty minutes had passed since their short conversion, and Y/N was done for the day. She was getting ready to leave when Sam asked her for help. “Would you mind spotting me?” Sam asked quietly, almost as if she was afraid to ask for help.
Y/N took a drink from her jug before nodding, “Of course.” She followed Sam to the bench press and stood at the head of the seat. She watched Sam add her plates to the bar and made a look of shock as she realized that Sam might be stronger than her, and she had to ignore the fire she felt in her core.
Sam lay on the bench and gripped the bar before slightly pushing it off the rack and bringing it down to her chest. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Sam push up on the bar like it was easy work, and she continued to do 12 reps. Y/N helped Sam re-rack the bar as she took a break and sat up. “I never got your name,” Sam stated breathlessly, but she couldn't tell if it was from the bench press or the attractive woman in front of her.
“Oh, I’m Y/N. It's nice to officially meet you,” Y/N says with a smile as she extends her hand toward Sam. Sam accepts Y/N’s hand and slides her own into the woman’s. Y/N nearly melted onto the floor at the feeling of Sam’s rough hand against hers and had to hold back her rated-R thoughts when Sam gave her hand a gentle yet firm shake.
On the other hand, Sam felt something she had never felt before when her skin had made contact with Y/N. She felt that spark you only hear about in movies or books, the type of spark you feel when you find the one, and it shocked her. Instead of being an asshole like she wanted, Sam gave Y/N’s hand a firm shake, not meaning to be gentle about it. “I’m Sam, and it's nice to meet you as well,” Sam replied with a smile as she dropped Y/N’s hand. She then moved to lie down on the bench again and finish out her sets.
After her third and final set, Y/N helped her re-rack the bar again and the weights. When Y/N looked at Sam, she finally noticed that she was a couple of inches shorter than her, and for some reason, it boosted Y/N’s confidence. But that confidence quickly died when Y/N saw a small bead of sweat trail down Sam’s abdomen. Her face became red, and her tongue dry as her mind was filled with raunchy thoughts again. So she pretended she wasn’t in the middle of a gay panic and drank some water, trying to calm herself down while keeping her tongue wet for talking purposes and no other reason.
The two walked together toward the cubbies and grabbed their things. Sam pretended to look for something when Y/N asked, “How come I’ve never seen you here before?”
Sam chuckled at the question and looked over her right shoulder, “I moved here a few months ago, and I decided I needed a good gym to work out at. I tried a few different ones, but none of them stuck,” Sam said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“So why give Frattini’s a try?” Y/N asked with a playful smile before adding, “Not that I’m complaining, though.”
Sam rolled her eyes at the comment but returned the playful smile, “I prefer quality over quantity; I’m not a fan of chain gyms, and I like supporting the smaller ones.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll find too much quality here, but it's a small gym, and everyone is nice here. And I also prefer smaller gyms,” Y/N said as she slung her bag over her shoulder. Sam copied the woman’s actions with her own bag and started walking toward the door with the woman. Y/N opened the door and held it for Sam, and Sam did the same thing with the front door.
The two walked out to their separate cars as the early morning sun barely peeked above the horizon. “I hope to see you around sometime, Sam,” Y/N said with a smile and hopeful eyes. She didn't know why, but she wanted to see Sam again soon.
“You will. And thank you for helping me, Y/N,” Sam replied as she opened her car door as well.
“Anytime,” Y/N said as she gave Sam one final smile before getting into her car and shutting the door. Sam smiled as she watched Y/N drive off before getting into her car, looking forward to seeing Y/N again soon.
Y/N shifted uncomfortably as she drove home; she regretted not showering, but again, she was glad she got to walk out with Sam. Her mind drifted off with thoughts of Sam, and she wondered when she would see the beautiful woman. She regretted not asking her for her number, but she felt that it might have been too forward.
When the next morning arrived, instead of moping around in bed, Y/N sprang out of bed with excitement. She quickly brushed her teeth and put in her contacts while she eagerly got dressed. She grabbed her phone, earbuds, and water jug before entering the kitchen. Y/N refilled her jug and put the lid back on as she moved toward the door. She grabbed her keys, locked the door, and basically skipped out to her car. She turned on her car and pulled out of the garage as excitement overtook her body.
Y/N knew it was crazy to be this excited at 4:45 in the morning, but she couldn’t help it. Her mind had been plagued with thoughts of Sam so much that during her cousin’s birthday party, she forgot to get a piece of cake she had worked so hard for.
As Y/N pulled up to the gym, she almost screamed with happiness; it would be just her and Sam again today. She parked her car, turned it off, and flew out of the car with all her things. She scanned her key fob twice and acted calm and collected as she placed her things in her cubby. Y/N never liked working on Saturdays, but she would force herself to like it if she got Sam all to herself. She walked over to the leg press and hoped she could get leg day in, but just as she laid down, Sam walked out of the bathroom and stopped right in front of Y/N. “Hey, sailor,” Sam said with a flirty tone, and Y/N almost did a repeat of yesterday morning, but she caught herself and started her workout.
“Missed me already?” Y/N questioned as she pushed up with her legs, trying her best to focus on building her leg strength and not the gorgeous woman currently towering over her. Sam wore the same outfit from yesterday but in a different color, and Y/N had to fight back a bark.
Sam scoffed at Y/N’s words, “Of course not; I just happened to see you struggling, and I decided to offer you my support.”
Y/N finished up her set and locked the machine before sitting up slightly. “You wound me, Sam,” Y/N said with a hurt expression that quickly turned into a playful one.
“Well, if I wound you so much, I guess you wouldn’t want to work out with me then,” Sam suggested with a sigh before she pretended to walk off.
When Y/N saw Sam turn away from her and begin to walk off, she quickly stood up. “I’d like to work out with you,” Y/N spewed out quickly, causing Sam to turn around and raise her eyes rows, “only if you want me to, though.”
Sam laughed at the woman’s nervousness as she walked toward the girl and gently slapped her arm, “come on, let’s do some legs.” Y/N smiled at Sam’s words and followed the Latina to the squat rack, her heartbeat picking up for an unknown reason.
Y/N helplessly watched as Sam added her weights to the bar and ducked under it, and stood up, resting it on her shoulders as she gripped the bar. “Spot me?” She asked, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts. She nodded her head as her hands ghosted over Sam’s hips. She knew this wasn’t the proper way to spot someone, but she saw an opportunity and took it.
Sam’s body heated up when she felt Y/N’s hands close to her hips. She knew that this wasn’t the correct way to have a spotter, but she enjoyed having Y/N’s hands on her hips and didn’t want to lose contact.
When Sam would squat down with the bar, Y/N slightly copied the woman’s movements, ensuring everything was appropriately aligned. Sam suddenly felt nervous when Y/N copied her moves, and when she stood back up, her eyes locked with Y/N’s in the mirror.
Y/N gave Sam a polite smile with her hands still resting on the woman’s hips. “Hi,” Y/N breathlessly said.
“Hi,” San replied with a faint smile. She couldn’t tell if her heartbeat was going a mile a minute because of the squats or if she was simply flustered due to the attractive woman standing behind her. She refused to believe it was the latter.
Sam continued the rest of her set, and when she was done, she and Y/N would trade places. Sam tried her best to make sure that Y/N’s legs didn’t dip inward, but she was too distracted. Every time Y/N would stand up, she would let out a small groan, and Sam hated the way it made her feel.
When the two finished with squats, they started on the leg press. Sam watched with hooded eyes as Y/N’s quads flexed every time the woman straightened her legs. By the time Y/N had finished all three of her sets, Sam had got speechless.
“Sam? You okay?” Y/N asked as she got up from the seat and stood before Sam, gently placing her hands on Sam’s forearms. The contact pulled Sam out of whatever trenches they were, and she shook her head, “No, yeah, I’m good. Sorry about that; I was just distracted.”
Y/N nodded at Sam’s words, gave the woman’s forearms a soft squeeze, and dropped her hands down to her sides. “Alright then, what next?” Y/N asked with a gentle smile.
Almost an hour later, the two women had completed their workout, and Sam somehow managed to avoid going into cardiac arrest. Y/N was glad she got to spend more time with the pretty woman. “So, do you work out on Sundays?” Y/N asked when they got to their cubbies. She was messing around with her bag and refused to look at Sam.
“No, that’s my only day off. Why do you ask?” Sam questioned as her heart thumped steadily against her ribcage; she hoped that Y/N would ask her out, either in a platonic or friendly way. She didn’t care which one it was; just as long as she was with Y/N, she was ecstatic.
Y/N stopped messing with her hand and turned to face Sam. Any previous nerves were gone, nowhere to be seen. The woman's confident smile lit up the gym, and her eyes danced across Sam’s body. On the other hand, Sam seemed to absorb Y/N’s nervousness; her face began to heat up, her palms started to sweat, and for the life of her, she could not look the taller woman directly in the eye.
“I was hoping you would want to do something with me tomorrow? You know, outside of the gym,” Y/N asked as she put her bag over her shoulder, getting ready to head to the showers.
“Why does it have to be tomorrow and not today?” Sam asked when she finally made eye contact with Y/N. She noticed how the woman’s cheeks pulled with her smile, indicating that her confidence was a facade to hide her nerves.
Y/N perked up when she heard Sam’s request, and she instantly beamed. “Oh, I didn’t know if you had plans for today. But if you don’t, I would love to go do something with you later,” Y/N said as she shuffled from one foot to another but maintained a smile.
“I don’t have anything else to do today, so I’m free whenever,” Sam responded while matching Y/N’s smile. She had just met the other girl yesterday, but she couldn’t help the gravitational pull she felt towards the taller woman.
Y/N nodded her head at Sam’s words and slightly pulled on the strap that was across her chest, “Sweet! I mean, okay. We can get breakfast or something once I finish my shower.”
A small laughter rang throughout the gym when Y/N mentioned her shower. “You’re seriously taking a shower here?” Sam asked with a small laugh.
“Of course, I can’t smell bad for our date,” Y/N replied but froze as she called it a date. She hadn’t meant to call it one, but she couldn’t help but yearn for a date with the beautiful woman before her. Y/N noticed how Sam caught her slip up and the way she froze, so she decided to direct the attention away from her. “Unless you would want to join me?” She asked with a smirk that surprised Sam.
The remark flew through Sam’s ear and out the other as embarrassment overtook her. She was never flustered easily, but there was something about Y/N that caused her entire body to act out of line. “You aren’t that slick, Y/N. I’ll just wait for you out here,” Sam said with a smile as she tried her best to hide her evident excitement. She would storm into heaven and hell if it meant she could see Y/N naked in her bed, but she kept those thoughts to herself. The last thing Y/N needed to know was that Sam had been thinking about fornicating with her since they started working out together.
“Are you sure? This is a once-in-a-lifetime offer, and it expires in ten seconds,” Y/N said as she walked backward to the showers, and both women ignored how she almost tripped.
“I’m sure, Y/N, you won’t win me over that easily. Just hurry up,” Sam replied with a small smile as she grabbed her things. She watched as Y/N asked again if she wanted to join her before the taller woman disappeared into the shower room.
Y/N practically ran into the closest shower and stripped in record time. She did a quick rinse with soap and water; Sam told her to be quick about it, and she listened. She finished up her shower and threw on her clothes, and calmly walked out of the shower room with a smile, but her grin dropped as she saw that Sam was nowhere to be seen.
She walked to the cubbies and saw that Sam’s bag was gone, but she found a small note in her own cubby.
‘My sister cut herself with a knife trying to cut an apple, and I have to take her to the hospital. I’m still looking forward to our breakfast later today. Call me!
Sam ;)
XXX-XXX-XXXX’
Y/N smiled at the note as she pushed the door to the lobby open with her back. She pulled out her phone and sent Sam a quick text message asking if her sister was alright, to which she got an immediate reply of a picture of Sam and her little sister sitting in her car together. The sister had her right hand wrapped in a bloody bandage resting in her lap while her left hand was flipping the camera off. She had no smile as opposed to her older sister, who had a giant one on her face and gave the camera a slight thumbs up.
She was going to ask if she needed to reschedule their date, but Y/N erased the message when Sam sent, ‘I’ll drop the child off at the ER, and we can eat shitty hospital food while she gets stitches, my treat!’ Y/N smiled at the message and returned a picture of herself with a thumbs up, eager to see Sam again, even if it was in an awful hospital cafeteria.
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yeeterthek33per · 9 months
Text
Here we go (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)
Very Adulty, Minors DNI, Do not read if you don't want anything 18+,
You'll bounce back, minor part two, was requested.
*I will mark the sentence with a star if you wanna only read up until the spicy point, though.
The cheers of the stadium were ruthless.
Deafening even.
But none of that bothered any of you. All you cared about was the roar of your own teammates as you ran to meet them on the pitch, jumping into the waiting excited arms of your adoptive older sister. (Unofficial, but your family ensured that it didn't matter after their blatant disinterest in your life.)
Charlie's just about screaming in your ear when you meet her in the air, and you match that.
They did it... they beat Canada. Four to nil at that. None of you had been expecting a blowout, not against the olympic champions.
But here you were, standing on the green pitch of the stadium in Melbourne, watching as your teammates, your real family, surround each other, screaming into the electrified air of AAMI Park.
As you drop from Charlie's grip and give her head a slight rub to make sure she still feels fine, your gaze turns to the Canadians, watching as Vanessa Gilles sobs into her teammates, an old friend of yours, having spent your days at Cincinnati together.
You jog over to her, finding Ellie beat you to her Lyon teammate, holding her and telling her how proud she is of the defender.
You grab the girl as soon as she let's go of the aussie defender, pulling her into you and she buries her face into your jersey, you can feel the tears pouring from her eyes as she shakes softly. "Hey Van, I'm so proud of you hun, you've done so well. You played so hard and did the best you could."
You hold her and rub her back for a bit, whispering (more like just saying with the volume of the crowd at this point) words of encouragement to her.
She nods slightly against your shoulder as you do so. She let's go of you after a quick kiss to the temple, and she goes off to find her other teammates in the lockers.
From there, you continue comforting what of the canadian players you can and turn to your teammates beginning to make their rounds around the pitch for the fans.
Each of them have their moment with the crowd, firing them up, throwing their arms in the air. You chuckle watching as Teagan and Sam take their turns, and you run over to the group, taking the opportunity to run into Charlies side, wrapping your arm around her neck and fulfilling that promise you made her a week ago.
She wacks at you and takes off running when you give chase, laughing the whole way. It only ends when one of the training staff grabs her to chastise her for running around while she's on concussion watch as it is.
You only feel a little guilty, though.
As all sisters do.
Mini gives you a slight shake of her head, though, which has you laughing harder, amused but disappointed with you as she walks beside you now.
The shorter woman wraps an arm around you as a wave to the fans, the noise growing louder with each passing acknowledgement.
You're surprised you haven't been defeaned given the level of noise. The support was something you'd never be able to forget. The turnout was amazing, and the warmth it spread through you to see so many people come to watch this game.
"Oi, y/nn, you gonna go see 'em yet?" Mini subsequently points to Steph and Caitlin as they walk just ahead of you, arms around shoulders. You shake your head. "I'll find them later. Let them have this."
She only raises a brow at you, and hip bumps you. You chuckle, but don't explain.
You'd let them have their moment. They spent the entire game on, this was their time, and you could congratulate them later.
Eventually, once you all round the pitch, you return to where the family section was, watching as Katrina climbs the barrier to go see Harper and her fiance, your impromptu second mom now, and Sam goes to pick up her nephew and throw him in the air in the excitement.
You join them in celebrating after a moment, hugging Clara as she cheers into your ear. You're joined by Cha Cha moments later, Harper very indignantly insisting she goes to her favourite player now. Charlie, of course, that is. You pout playfully and tickle her when she giggles at your expression.
She eventually does climb into your arms and gives you the biggest hug of the day, you hold her tight and proceed to blow raspberries into her cheek to which she squeals and holds out for Mum to take her from you. "Mummy, save me!"
Katrina just laughs, and you give Harps over with a grin. Katrina gives you a kiss on the temple when you lean down to hug them both.
Waving your temporary goodbyes with the family, you slip over to Sam and her nephew, giving Sam a playful whack to the butt as you pass by them.
"Oi! Watch it, missy, there are kids here!"
You laugh when she tries to flick you, dodging just out of reach before making grabby hands for the child nestled in her neck. He turns to you and does the same, leaving Sam with a playfully offended look on her face.
She reluctantly hands him over, and you hug him tight before giving him back to Sam's sibling.
You pat her on the back and eventually move to observe your teammates, watching on as they all celebrate with their families. Emily, with her fiance, Ellie, with her dad, Charlie, with her parents and brother.
You know you have the girls, they're your family, you have your girls, Steph and Caitlin, and they're your family too, but you can't help missing what it was like to have your biological parents cheering you on from the sidelines.
They would come to all of your games, and you'd swear they were always the loudest in the crowd, faces painted green and gold and screaming for you with every touch you made.
Too bad that had to end.
They'd stopped coming the moment you announced you were dating a girl. They stopped talking to you. Their last words to you were, "Get out."
You'd been kicked out, and from then, Katrina was very quick to take you in. When she was transferred to the swedish league along with the birth of Harper, the two of you became thick as thieves, soon joined by Charlie and eventually welcoming in Clara.
As much as you missed the cheering, adoring family you once had, you would never exchange it for the family you have now, the one that treats like you like a real human being, with respect and all the love in the world.
Your eyes water a little, overwhelmed by how far you'd come since then, ever glad to have found the family you'd finally been dealt.
You wipe any remnants away quickly, though, and by the time everyone's finished, you're all being urged to return to the changerooms. All haggard but buzzing nonetheless.
The celebrations are rapid to return in the changerooms, dancing around to what you assume is one players speakers blasting Christina Aguilera's "Feel this moment." Being careful not to test your ankle too much with the movement.
You shout out the lyrics alongside your best friend, arm in arm, as beers are passed around for an hour or so. Come time to leave, and everyone's packing up their gear, you hear Tony yell out. "Alright ladies, party hard, but we need you back tomorrow, ready for recovery and our session with cryo. Congratulations, and I'm so very proud of you all."
Whoops and cheers fill the air as you all file onto the bus. You sit next to Hayley, wanting the calmer aura around the winger, as the air around the bus still buzzes with life. You're met with victory chants. (Courteously led by one Lydia Williams herself) and you’re met with cheers and screams around the bus all the way back to the hotel.
__________(stop here for no 18+ stuff at all)
By the time you've all returned to the hotel, you're all more than a little exhausted and slightly buzzed, and yet the others all call out plans to head to one of the local clubs, ready to party further.
You're left with Steph, Caitlin, Katrina, Sam, and Emily, the only group not wanting to exhaust yourselves any more than necessary.
All of you make your way up to your rooms, and you take the opportunity to shower off fully and slip out into the hallway, making your way down to your girls' room.
You're surprised when you don't even have to knock on the door before you're pulled into the room by hands from both girls.
Steph and Caitlin don't waste any time pressing you between them. Steph takes your lips with her own, and you let out a surprised hum against her. The striker behind you has you gripped by the hips, pulling you back into her as she nips at the skin on your neck.
You moan softly, and Steph slips away from your lips and moves kisses down your jawline, down the column of your throat and nips at the skin of your collarbone, tugging softly.
Letting out a breathy groan, leaning back into Caitlin, "I'm so proud of both of you, my group champs." Caitlin's breathy chuckle in your ear sends shivers down your spine.
"I think a little midnight feast is in order, don't you, Stephy?"
The look in her eyes says all you need to know.
*((Smut ahead))
((Seriously, if you don't wanna read smut, don't read ahead, the story ends at the star))
The defender smirks against your neck, looking up into the eyes of the girl behind you before stepping back from you completely to bring her hand up to your chin to tilt your head back to face her, locking gazes with you directly.
"I think, since you've so eagerly suggested as such, you should go first, pretty girl."
Behind you, Caitlin cocks a brow at the suggestion, barely waiting a second before she tugs at the hem of your shirt with a purr.
"Don't mind if I do."
You whine when you don't feel the warmth of your girlfriend pressed against your back. Your shirt is slipped off, and you're pushed back onto the bed with a heavy layer of eagerness.
Caitlin is quick to press down onto you and push you towards the middle before Steph nudges you to lean down on her front as your legs hang from the end of the bed. The striker's knees are pressed on either side of your hips, pinning your lower half to the matress, and she leans down to hover over you.
Her breath fans your neck for a moment as she kisses a path up your throat and takes your bottom lip between her teeth, tugging lightly at it before letting it go. Your chest is almost heaving at this point.
There's a lightheaded buzzing behind your eyes and heat settling in your gut as she kisses you again, sucking at your bottom lip to soothe her earlier ministrations. She then leans up to press a kiss to your other girlfriends lips, and Steph grabs her by the neck to hold her in place for a minute, Caitlin's tongue giving a cheeky swipe at her own, dragging a small groan from the defender.
Caitlin pulls away with a mischievous grin as she keeps her gaze locked with Steph's. She moves down to the floor, knees resting on the carpet as she moves to tug at your training joggers.
You all too happily lift your hips to allow her access, and when you go to grab her to urge her to move closer, you're met with Steph pinning your wrists to the bed below you.
You whine looking up at the defender. She simply chuckles, using your current position to hold you in place, distracting you just long enough for Caitlin to have grabbed you by the thighs to hold you down.
Their hands are hot on your body, and you feel like you're gonna combust at any point.
"Patience sweets, let her take her time, she's earned this meal, don't you think?"
And you can only whimper in response. Although something along the lines of a plea does come through, you're not entirely sure.
Everything feels so fuzzy, but in an ecstatic way.
Steph's lips on yours are grounding, yet they make your head feel light as you're settled back down onto the mattress. Steph's now sitting back on her haunches, hands still tight on your wrists, leaning over you.
Another kiss to your lips is enough of a distraction that the moment Caitlin's tongue makes contact, it has you keening and begging. It's on the fabric of your underwear, but it still has you gasping into the older girl's mouth.
The girl below you loosens her hold on your thighs, running her fingers gently over the skin above the waistband. She slips the tips of her them under the elastic, letting it snap back into place. Once. Twice. Three times. Your hips cant slightly the third time.
"Hold still for me baby." You let out a high pitched whine but keep your lower half planted firmly. She brushes the skin on the inside of your thighs, sending goosebumps down both of them. Before she sits up fully and
"Up."
You do as your told with little fuss, lifting up to allow her to tug the fabric down.
"Cait, please." It's breathy. It's almost whimpered out, but it gets your point across. She chuckles, but relents and her thumb comes into contact with your clit, pressing enough to have you moaning out loud. Steph hushes you softly. "Shhh pretty girl, we don't wanna be too loud. Wouldn't want to draw attention, would we?"
You obediently bite down on your lip, but it's then Caitlin decides is the perfect moment to lick a stripe up your slit and your mouth drops open. Steph is quick to let go of your wrist to silence you. Leaving your left hand free, but you only grip onto the white sheets, fisting them tightly.
The moan reverberates from your throat, though, and almost echoes in the room.
The smirk on the strikers face tells Steph that was entirely intentional. Not that you're paying much attention to that at this point. You can only focus on the feeling of her arms pulling your legs over her shoulders, holding her head closer to your centre.
"Careful."
It's a light scold, but Caitlin raises a brow cheekily. It's when she dives straight into your wetness, lapping at you before sucking harshly at your clit, that you know she'll be in trouble later. You're preening under the heat of her tongue, and her teeth have you shuddering when she tugs gently.
The knot in your stomach twists in on itself almost immediately, leaving you embarrassingly close to the edge already. She could tell immediately after she slips two fingers into you, pressing inside you just right, leaving you almost fluttering around the digits. Your chest is heaving, breath hot and heavy coming from your nose and into the palm of Steph's hand, intermittent with occasional cries of pleasure.
It's in this moment you realise she's dead set on making you cum as quickly as possible, though that doesn't surprise you given she's always competing with the other girl on how quickly they can get you to finish. You'd never had the heart to tell them who was winning that competition, besides, it certainly didn't hurt when they got into a competitive mood like this, especially with such a big win.
With a particularly harsh suck, and a loud keening whine escapes your throat, you're sent over the edge as your heels dig into the clothed shoulder blades of the girl below you and your other hands fingers intertwine with Steph's. Your hips buck against Caitlin's mouth, and she has to pin your waist down with her other forearm to hold you still.
You're still trembling when you come down, legs shaky as she places one last kiss to your clit before she's being pulled up by Steph into a searing kiss above you. The defender almost growls into the kiss, tongue quickly finding its way into the younger of the two's mouth.
When she feels you nudge her by the hip and your hands slip up under her shirt from beneath her, she pulls away, hand gripping Caitlin by the throat, not quite gentle but enough to cut off air.
"Since pretty girl here wants us to make some noise, I think we can put that mouth to use again. What do you think, puddin'?"
You pull yourself out from under them, hands tugging at her shirt as an idea pops to mind. You chuckle darkly.
"How about we turn that mouth into a nice seat for you?"
Caitlin's pupils dilate a little as she's holding direct eye contact with Steph and Steph's eyes darken with grin.
"Perfect idea, baby girl, down on the bed, pretty girl."
Caitlin can barely get a word out before her shirt and bra are basically tugged from her, and she's pushed onto the bed with a rough grunt. Though she has complaints. Steph steps off the bed for a moment to strip completely before she's hovering over the striker, head near the side of the mattress.
Unbeknownst to her, you're currently knelt in front of her, Steph facing you, watching as you give a smirk, gently running your hands over the muscled thighs in front of you, making her jump at the touch.
However, She's quick to pull the blonde brunette down onto her mouth, diving straight in and not wasting any more time than necessary. Steph has to quickly slap a hand over her own mouth to cover a moan as she leans down on the other, which is placed on Caitlin's abs.
Your eyes are hazy watching the two, and when you blink back to, you slip a hand back up to her slit, running a single digit over it before slipping it into her. Caitlin whines below the defender at your touch, urging you on with a small jump of her hips. You abide and slip another in, her warmth clenching around your fingers as you slowly move them. Your mouth soon joins when Steph lets out soft curses and words of encouragement. Which gives you another moment of clarity.
The moment you can feel Caitlin start to tighten around, you slow your ministrations, making the girl on the bed protest.
"Ah ah." You scold lightly. "You don't cum until she does pretty girl."
Your words make Steph herself moan, and she's nearly thrown over the edge by that alone, Caitlin on the other hand, just about doubles her efforts, tongue flicking harshly and sucking on Steph's clit, and you have a smug look on your face as you return to a moderate pace.
It's when Steph has to steady herself as her thighs tighten around Caitlins head that you curl your fingers just enough in a way you know makes the girl finish every time, paired with a particularly sharp suck and both of them tip over the edge, Steph cumming just before the girl below her, hand tight over her mouth to cover any noises leaving her, Caitlin's own moans being muffled by the girl on top of her.
With a shaky breath, Steph carefully pulls away from Caitlin's head after a tap to the leg from the girl and leans back against the headboard as both of them try to catch their breath, Caitlin more so given she was nearly smothered.
You slip up onto the matress with them, kissing both of them, honestly ready to call it in, but Steph has other ideas.
"Not yet, puddin', I think you still have a couple more in you."
Caitlin sits up suddenly with a grin. She looks directly at Steph with a knowing look, and the girl nods at her.
The striker pushes you back down onto the bed. This time, your head lay on the pillows as the other crosses the room to her suitcase, pulling out a dark green and yellow pouch.
What she pulls out of it both almost makes you laugh and moan at the same time. "Really?" Is what comes out instead.
They both laugh, and Steph shakes her head, "I'm not the one who picked it, but I didn’t mind. We have one in Arsenal colours already anyway."
The strap in her hand is bottle green and sparkly gold striped, which looks ridiculous, but at the same time, you can't help the pride you feel when you see it.
"Touché."
You grin as you watch her step into it, the harness, tightening it around her waist and legs. Caitlin is about to slip a pillow under your hips when Steph then motions for you to turn over onto your stomach instead.
This sends you reeling back into a dazed state almost, breath hitching when you feel her spread your legs out against the pillow now under your hips, bent back at the knees.
She grips your hips, pulling you just back enough to lift you up enough off the bed to get access to you. She runs her fingers through your folds, dipping two finger into you before bringing them back to her mouth to suck off the juices with a small groan.
She grabs the bottle of lube Caitlin had pulled out of the pouch for her and douses the dildo and a little bit in you as well. She spreads it evenly before tossing the bottle back to the striker.
One hand splayed in the dip in your back, Steph guides the dildo into you with the other before sinking down to the hilt. You gasp and gulp, trying to take in air as she fills you with the silicone toy, your hands gripping at the sheets as your face is buried into the them as well before turning it to the side to look at the mirror attached to the wall.
You watch as her hips press into yours deliciously, holding there until you can give her the go-ahead to continue. You adjust a little to give her more room to move, and she takes it, pulling out slowly and pushing back in a little harsher, leaving you to pant out her name.
She does it again, and you cry out this time as she does it repeatedly before setting a rough pace. She sets herself on her knees as her hips thrust into you roughly, one hand holding you hips, pulling you into her, the other gripping the back of your neck, pushing you into the matress.
Your moans turn louder, and you find yourself chanting Steph's name paired with swears as you clench your eyes shut with a grit of your teeth.
Suddenly, she slows much to your disapproval, and with a tut, she turns your head back to face the mirror. "Watch me fuck you baby girl, or you dont get to come again."
You nod, and she picks up her pace again, pounding you into the pillow, your ass bouncing every time she thrusts into you. It throws you closer with every nudge of your g-spot and sends you gasping into the open air of the bedroom.
"F-fuck Steph!".
Meanwhile, you can see Caitlin in the mirror, pupils dilated as she watches the defender fuck a you shaped indent into the matress. However, she slips off the bed, and you find out why, snatching up the underwear she tossed earlier, she balls it up and uses it to muffle you.
Your eyes roll back when she does, and Steph has to hold back her own orgasm at the sight, feeling you tighten around the strap, starting to push back to meet her thrusts. You almost push up to your elbows, but she only doubles down on you, and you cry out into the soaked fabric, vision blurring, and your thighs clench around hers from the back as your orgasm rips through you, Steph soon joining you afterwards with a muffled cry of her own, hips shuddering as she slows her thrusts, a slew of curses and praises leaving you preening as you just manage to hear them over your heart beating into your ears.
Caitlins hand rests on the girl's back, rubbing gently as she unclips the strap from her hips suddenly.
You shiver when the strap is pulled from you, and Steph has to push herself up to go sit on the other bed. However, you nearly protest hearing the clips of the strap being clipped back in again, and she turns you over onto your back.
"Jesus baby, I don't think I can-." You're cut off by your own moan when she kneels down to lap at you for a few moments, as she raises s questioning brow at you.
"I- oh- for the love of- oh- okay! Okay!" You just about squeak out.
She chuckles and lines you back up, hands on your hips, thumbs dipping into your hips bones to pull you down onto the strap once again.
Not waiting a second longer, she's pounding into you with the same ferocity, panting into your neck as she settles on her feet and elbows. Your legs wrap around her waist as she fucks you. Your vision is already starting to blur again, only this time the sensitivity is higher, leaving you canting and bucking as she takes you.
Your hands grip onto her shoulder blades, fingers digging into the skin of her back, panties still settled between your teeth. Your nails bite into her back, and she has to hold back a growl of pleasure. She loves it when you and Steph mark her, leave bites and scratches in her skin when she fucks you both. Her ego is only boosted by the shouts of pleasure she draws out of you two.
To which, when she hears you cry out louder, she fastens her pace, doubling down and angling her hips slightly more up to hit your spot better. With that, your vision goes flash hot white as you release with a muffled scream.
Caitlin cries out with you, hips jutting, and she moans when she feels the mess you've left on the fronts of her hips and thighs and the sheets below you.
Slowly moving to bring you down, she stops and waits for your breathing to slow as she pulls out of you. You gasp, finally feeling empty as the strap is unclipped and tossed at the suitcase once again, the girl just about collapsing on top of you, still placed with your legs around her.
Steph gets up off her own bed with a slight wobble, and that's when you notice the lack of feeling in your trembling legs. You let out a laugh of disbelief, and Caitlin can only smugly grin, one at having made you squirt and two at having left you with jelly legs. It's only happened two other times, and they were both times done by Steph.
You yank the pillow from under you both and toss it at the doorway to sneak into the wash later.
Steph helps you onto your side, having grabbed a cloth from the bathroom and carefully wipes you down.
If it wasn't for the fact they were professional athletes on a high, you'd be amazed by the energy they still had in them after all of that and 90 minutes of gameplay. After that, both of them clean themselves with a relatively quick cloth bath and settle back into bed with you as you begin to doze slowly. Caitlin settles against your back, and Steph settles against your front.
They both wrap their arms around you, bringing the single bed sheet up to cover what they can of the three of you. Your breathing finally recovered. You press a deep but slow kiss to Steph's lips, and Caitlin sits up on her elbow, so you do the same with her. The mumble whispered words of affirmation against your skin.
"God I fucking love you both."
They both laugh, hands caressing your face, shoulder and hip. "We love you too baby girl."
_________
Breakfast the next morning is a shit show. Emily can't quite look you all in the eye, though she does poke fun at Steph, and Sam lets rip into you about keeping her up for three whole hours. Katrina just shakes her head, rubbing her temples, glad she remembered earplugs for Harper before she left sweden.
The other girls who were out had returned just an hour later to find a dead looking Sam, Mini, and Em, and they all nodded at Caitlin and Steph's door. Of course, they all then just layed into the three of you, teasing and pointing out visible hickeys, Charlie poking the most fun at you, with several hickeys now visble on your collarbone as you sit there with your face in your hands at the day ahead of you all.
"Y/L! CATLEY! FOORD!."
"Oh shit." Caitlin.
Steph just facepalms.
Sam looks vindicated but slightly scared for you at the same time.
All the other girls just ooh and whistle at you all.
Except for Mini, she just slaps you upside the head and glares as you all walk away in a way that only mothers can.
All you can mutter as you all skulk into the meeting room where a furious looking Gustafson is standing, is.
"Here we go."
*Oh my lord, and we're done folks, here you guys go.
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sardonic-the-writer · 3 months
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𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫
↳ warnings: mention of weapons
↳ song: smells blood—kensuke ushio
↳ notes: first hazbin one shot. reblogs are appreciated, and i love feedback
masterlist | commissions | carrd
You knew this had been coming for a while.
Angels had always been a problem for hell. The extermination was a day every sinner feared; the possibility that anyone could be singled out by those glowing white masks plagued the public's knowledge. And now that the time until the next one had been cut in half, windows were being boarded up tighter than usual.
No one knew what was waiting for them when they died a second time. Theories ran rampant—as they always did around this time. Talk of double hell or a void full of inky black circled around the pentagram city like water down a drain. Overloads and imps alike all locked their doors, somewhat content knowing that the possibility they would die was slim.
You, however, did not have that luxury.
Charlie Morningstar adjusted her amour awkwardly, standing in front of a sea of waiting eyes. Her knees felt like limp noodles, and she couldn’t stop sweating. The Hazbin Hotel behind her cast a looming presence over the small army she had gathered over the past few days, bathing sharp toothed grins in a giant shadow. You yourself were dressed for battle and standing next to the princess, and other members of the hotel stood in a loose line beside you, fanning out into a wonky semi-circle.
The gun in your hand gave a slight click as you messed with it, checking to make sure the chamber was loaded with enough ammunition. You gave a slight hum as the angelic bullets sparkled up at you from their place before you placing the magazine back in place. The discovery that the angels own weapons could kill them had been a bit ironic to you, and you had been the only one besides Alastor too laugh a little when you heard the news.
Charlie had begun a speech while you had been checking your gun. A small noise came from the back of your throat as you listened to it, occasionally giving her a slight smile when she’d lock eyes with you.
“Nervous?” You heard Angel whisper in the midst of Charlie detailing her gratitude. Glancing away from Charlie, only just now noticing that Vaggie had been keeping her hand on the small of her girlfriend’s back the entire time, you chuckled.
“Only about your questionable fashion statements.” You responded without much real emotion. Flicking at the top of Angels head, your finger came in contact with a little feather hat, and the spider caught it before it hit the ground. You just grinned as he gave you a mock glare.
“Hey! I’ll have you know that tiny hats are very in style!” His Brooklyn accent slurred his words comically.
“Sure thing.” You snickered, only quieting once Husk sent you a look from over Angel’s shoulder.
You yourself had forgone any niceties like Angel’s hat or Sir Pentious’s war uniform. You figured that if you died today, you’d want to do it how you always looked. With a reinforced chest plate curtesy of Carmilla Carmine, you supposed.
By the time you had finished, Charlies speech was wrapping up. Looking around, you noticed most of your companions had broken into soft smiles, shifting on their feet as Charlie addressed them specifically.
A cheer rose as she finished—from both the cannibals and hotel goers. You were among the latter, raising an arm with a yell as hats were tossed in the air in celebration. You must have been the only block in the entire city to be celebrating right now. In a weird way, that filled you with hope, although you’d never admit it.
“This better work.” Cherri Bomb scoffed. But she was smiling, and you noticed her arm was around Angels tall shoulders.
In fact, as you looked around, you noticed nearly everyone was glowing with anticipation. The stench of fear was prevalent as ever, but it was outmatched by friendly noogies and excited chatter. Nifty was bouncing around with a thin knife, cruel excitement filling her eye. Husk had a far away look in his eyes as he thumbed his deck of deadly cards, but it was a fond one. As if remembering a better time. Even you were more comfortable than usual, playing with the trigger on your gun as your eyes swept across everyone.
Alastor seemed to be the only one standing alone.
“Ready to face off against someone that’s an even bigger dick than you?” You asked him, referencing to the first man Adam with an appropriate amount of sarcasm.
The Radio Demon didn’t even so much as jump when you walked quietly up behind him. He instead rolled his shoulder back and twirled his cane around. You supposed he had heard you coming with those heightened deer ears of his—something you had pointed out as unfair multiple times. It’d come in handy today.
“My, such dirty language for this grave situation!” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Red eyes observed your every movement, and by now you had grown accustomed enough to his unsettling ways to return the look. You grinned at him mischievously, but only for a heartbeat.
“You sure your shield will work Alastor?” Your tone dipped into a lower tone of questioning now, testing the waters of how he was truly feeling. It was no secret to you that Alastor wore a smile to hide his true intentions, and it annoyed you how well it worked. So other methods had to be used in your favor. You found the most effective one was simply asking him what you wanted to know. Of course, he has lied to you plenty of time before, but you considered the situation unique enough for an honest answer
“Doubting me now of all times, dear?” He chuckled darkly. “A mistake I hope our enemies make.”
“Not in the least.” You looked away from his piercing gaze with the casualness of an old friend, and not someone that he could kill with a snap of his fingers. “Just cautious. Can’t be making mistakes today.”
Alastor said nothing more, but you had a feeling he agreed with you.
A sudden cry rolled through the crowed gathered in front of the hotel. You squared your shoulders as a call of ‘it’s coming!’ rang. From somewhere in the underfed of heads ready to dig into angelic flesh, you thought of Vaggie hugging her girlfriend one last time. You thought Sir Pentious nervously smiling at Cherrie Bomb, and you thought of Husk chuckling at Angel Dust’s antics. Even Alastor rose into the air from somewhere next to you, and onto the top of the hotel. A sign that it truly was about to begin.
With a cock of your gun and a tensing of your stance, you dug your heels into the dirt, looking up at the red clouds with a steely glint in your eye. You listened to the voices of friends and sinners and to the roaring in your ears. Memories of nights in your room here came to mind, and you held onto them like it was the last thing you’d ever do.
Then the sky opened up, and death itself poured from it.
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austinshotbutlers · 1 year
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The Wedding Date - Part Four
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner × Fem!BAU!Reader
Summary: Your sister's wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to you family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is... you don't have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?
Word count: 4.9K
TW: Smut (Hotch is a boob man at the start, semi-public sex? (they have a quickie in a bathroom), unprotected sex, vaginal fingering), swear words, violence.
A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Part four is finally here! I’m sorry it took so long and this part is also the longest one so far. I apologise for any mistakes, I don’t know how well I proofread it! But I hope you enjoy it, it’s fluffy, smutty and also a little bit angsty. Please let me know what you’d like to see in part 5!
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Being woken up by the bright sun shining through the gap in the curtains was not ideal when dealing with a hangover. Your head pounded as you buried it in the pillow, trying to remember just how much you had to drink at the party. You smiled to yourself as you replayed the events of last night in your brain; you couldn’t believe you and Aaron had sex. You couldn’t believe the two of you had admitted your love for one another.
You sat up slowly, expecting to see Aaron still asleep but there was no sign of him. You laid back against the headboard, chewing lightly on your thumbnail with a look of pure satisfaction on your face. You hadn’t slept with anyone in a long time and it had been an even longer time since anyone had left you feeling so satisfied, so loved. No man had ever made love to you the way Aaron did last night and it was just incredible.
Then, your bedroom door opened gently and Aaron walked in, carrying a tray of food and drink. He looked up and smiled when he saw you were awake.
“Morning.” He smiled, as he walked in and placed the tray down on your bedside cabinet. “I thought you might be hungover so I took the liberty to bring you Advil, water, black coffee, plain toast and a banana. Whatever might do the trick.”
Your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness and you immediately reached out for the pack of Advil and water. “Thank you so much.” You smiled, popping the Advil in your mouth and taking a huge sip of water.
Aaron sat down on the bed beside you and leaned forward for a kiss which you happily reciprocated, placing a soft kiss on his slightly chapped lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling Aaron in deeper and he adjusted your bodies so that you were back lying down. You both leaned in for another kiss but you bumped heads in eagerness and laughed but Aaron quickly captured your lips again.
“I’m still naked from last night.” You giggled and Aaron groaned into your ear.
“God you make me feel like a horny teenager again.” He murmured and you laughed, placing light kisses behind his ear. Aaron pulled the duvet down to reveal your breasts and you shuddered at the sudden loss of warmth the fabric was providing. Aaron spread kisses from you neck down to the valley of your breasts and you took a deep breath as his mouth fell to your right.
“Oh!” You managed to moan out as Aaron closed his mouth around your nipple, his tongue swirling while his other hand massaged your left. “That feels so good.” You mumble breathlessly, running your hand through his hair. The pleasure from Aaron’s tongue flicking and sucking on your nipple while his other hand kneaded your left breast made your brain foggy with rapture as the building pleasure settled in your lower abdomen.
Suddenly, your bedroom door creaked open and you could hear you mom chatting away as she was about to enter. You shoved Aaron off, who fell back against the mattress, and you frantically pulled the duvet back up to cover yourself.
“Oh my god mom! Have you ever heard of knocking!” You groaned frustratedly. “It’s like being 15 all over again.”
“Sorry, I forgot! It’s all the excitement of the rehearsal dinner tonight!” She said cheerily which told you she didn’t see anything, much to your relief. “How were the parties last night?” She asked as she wondered into your room, opening the curtains and the sun blinding you.
“Jesus mom.” You hissed and squinted your eyes. “Well the bachelorette was fun, you should have seen Sarah dancing.” You laughed.
“Well I heard you at 3 this morning.” Your mom said and you and Aaron threw each other a panicked look. Had your mom really heard you two have sex last night? “You slammed the front door so loud,” she went on to say. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake up your dad and Aaron as well.” And the two of you relaxed. “So! Tonight, we need to be heading to Thomas’ Parents’ house at around 4, guests will be arriving from 5 and I expect you not to drink so much tonight please Y/N. I do not want you hungover on your sister’s wedding day.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re making it sound like I have a problem but whatever, it all sounds good.” You said trying to get your mom to leave the two of you.
“Make sure you wear a nice dress and Aaron, I hope to see you in a suit again.” You mom winked to him and Aaron awkwardly chuckled.
“Of course Mrs Y/L/N.” He smiled politely.
“Great! I shall leave you two now. I can tell when my company is not wanted.” She joked and quickly walked out of your room, closing the door behind her.
“Well…” you sighed. “That killed the mood a bit didn’t it?”
“Just a little.” Aaron said, turning back to look at you.
You started to laugh. “The way we both looked at each other when my mom said she heard me come home last night.” You tried to catch your breath. “We really thought we had been caught! It’s like being a teenager again when I used to sneak my boyfriends in through the window in the bathroom and always being so scared my parents were gonna hear us.”
Aaron laughed. “You were quite the rebellious teen.”
“Weren’t we all? At least I didn’t have a punk phase like Emily did.” You giggled. “What were you like as a teenager?”
“While you may not have had a punk phase in high school, I hate to say that mine was in college.” Aaron said.
“Shut up! There is absolutely no way you were a punk. I couldn’t even imagine what you would have looked like.” You’re practically in hysterics now, trying to picture Aaron in college.
“When you come to my apartment, I’ll have to show you the photos.” He said, amused at how entertained you were by the thought of his, very awful attempt, at a punk phase.
***
“I miss you too buddy.” Aaron smiled into the phone “But I’ll be home in 3 days and you can tell me all about your museum trip with aunt Jessica as soon as I get back. I can’t wait to hear what you saw.”
You smiled from your place at the dressing table, listening to Aaron talk to Jack as you put mascara on your lashes.
“I love you too.” Aaron said. “Be good for Jessica. Yes I love you too Jack.” He chuckled. “Bye buddy.” And he hung up the phone.
“How is he?” You asked, turning to face Aaron.
“He’s good. He went to the museum today and bought a giant shark teddy.” He said.
“He’ll have to show it to me when I next see him.” You smiled , going back to finishing your makeup and Aaron’s heart swelled because Jack loved you. Whenever he would come to the BAU, he would always make a beeline for your desk knowing you would have a chocolate for him in your drawer and make him laugh with some silly story that he would then go home and tell Aaron about 15 times.
“He would love that.” Aaron smiled.
You stood up and turned to show Aaron your dress. “How do I look?”
Aaron felt like he’d stopped breathing as he took in the gorgeous dark green dress you had on. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating every curve and falling just above your knee.
“You look gorgeous.” He breathed out and walked over to you. “So, so gorgeous.” He whispered, leaning in and placing soft kisses behind your ear.
“If you keep that up, we’re going to be late to the dinner.” You mumbled breathlessly as Aaron continued to kiss your neck.
“I don’t care.” He said lowly against your skin.
“Neither do I but my mom will go pure psycho on us and the rest of the team will be coming to claim our dead bodies.” You joked and Aaron chuckled. “But I promise we can continue this later tonight.”
“Deal.” Aaron smirked as he pulled away, standing up straight to look at you. You reached up to tighten and straighten the silky red tie he was wearing and smoothed down his shirt.
“You look very handsome Agent Hotchner.” And you reached up to give him a peck on the lips. “We better get going before my mom starts hassling us.”
Aaron reached for his suit jacket and swiftly put it on before the two of you exited your bedroom and made your way down the stairs. Your mom came into view and she gasped when she saw you.
“Oh sweetheart! You look beautiful.” She smiled.
“Thanks mom.” You said smiling back.
Aaron placed his hand on your lower back and you both made your way to the car.
“So Aaron,” you dad started as he drove. “Have you enjoyed your time in LA?”
“Yes, very much Sir,” Aaron said. “It’s nice to be here for leisure and not dealing with a case.”
“Do you enjoy working for the BA…. Whatever it is?” Your mom asked.
“I do enjoy working at the BAU, my son thinks I’m a superhero.” Aaron chuckled.
“Oh you have a son?” Your mom questioned obnoxiously.
“Yes, his name is Jack. He’s almost 8 now.” He said with a smile and you placed your hand on Aaron’s thigh to apologise for your mom’s abruptness.
“Would you want anymore children?” She continued.
“Mom!” You called our frustratedly. “What kind of question is that?”
“It’s fine Y/N,” Aaron smiled to you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “I suppose I am open to more children but only if it feels right.”
The rest of the car ride went in a silence, your mom and dad occasionally exchanging a few words and sentences but you soon arrived at the house of you sister’s future in-laws. You took in the extravagant building.
“At least we know Sarah is going to be rich for the rest of her life.” You joked to Aaron and he chuckled.
“Oh shush!” Your mom reprimanded you and she knocked a few times on the door before Sarah excitedly ran to open it.
“Can you believe I’m getting married tomorrow!” She said excitedly.
You all made your way into the lavish home and were greeted by Thomas and his parents.
“Luke is here, he’s just in the dining room.” Thomas smiled as he shook your dad’s hand.
Anger flared in Aaron’s chest at the mention of Luke as their conversation from last night replayed in his head. You noticed Aaron tense up and placed your hand on his back, rubbing softly to help him relax.
***
The large party sat around the dining table as the second course had just been finished, chatter and laughter filling the room.
“Sarah and Y/N never used to get on! They hated each other growing up.” Your mom was telling the table.
“That’s because Y/N couldn’t stand the fact that I was more popular than her.” Sarah interjected. “She was far more interested in her boring criminology books.”
“We all know you were only popular because mom had to beg the coach to let you on the cheer squad.” You laughed and Sarah threw you a glare.
“Well at least you two girls get on together now.” Your dad said, trying to calm the conversation.
“Get on? No. Tolerate? Yes.” You said laughing and a few chuckles came from around the room.
Aaron looked around the large table at the guests and his eyes settled on Luke who was downing another drink, much to his girlfriend’s dismay. She was muttering something to him and he replied angrily. Always the gentleman.
“Do you want more wine?” Your voice drew Aaron from his thoughts and he turned to you.
“Please.” He smiled, holding out his glass as your poured. “Thank you.”
Aaron pulled his chair in closer so that he could rest his hand on your thigh and the small action sent instant waves of calmness through your body.
“So, Aaron and Y/N. Why don’t you tell us what it’s like working for the FBI.” Thomas said, everyone’s eyes falling onto the two of you.
“It’s hard work but we love it.” You said, looking up at Aaron with a smile.
“Tell us about the serial killers.” Thomas pleaded.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner talk honey.” Sarah said.
“I’d like to hear about it.” Your dad interjected.
“Maybe we should leave this talk until after the wedding.” Thomas’ mother said unimpressed.
You and Aaron looked at each other as everyone spoke over one another and laughed.
“We profile more than just serial killers.” You said.
“Have you ever shot anyone?” Thomas asked eagerly.
Aaron opened his mouth to respond but your mom’s desperate tone cut him off. “Why don’t we go back to talking about the wedding!”
You turned to Aaron and rolled your eyes before the excited chatter of the wedding filled the room again.
Eventually, the guests dispersed from the table, mingling around the grand house with one another. Your mom was excitedly chatting away with Sarah, Thomas and Thomas’ mom while your dad was talking to a couple of your great aunts. Luke was solemnly stood in the corner, sipping slowly at a large tumbler of whiskey. Aaron had his hand placed at the small of your back, holding you close as your cousin spoke.
“You should have seen your mom’s face when Thomas asked if you had ever shot anyone!” Liv laughed. “She looked absolutely horrified.”
“Well, you know better than anyone my mom hates my job.” You replied with an eye roll. “She never wanted me to take my job at the BAU.”
“I’m glad you did take it.” Aaron said, rubbing a circle on your back. “Or we never would have met.”
“Blah!” Liv said. “You guys are so in love it makes me sick. Where can I get myself an Aaron?” She joked.
“Join the FBI.” You replied with a laugh.
“I’m going to go and get another drink and consider your proposal.” Liv chuckled and walked off to the kitchen.
You looked up at Aaron with a smile and leaned in for a kiss which he happily reciprocated, placing a gentle peck on your lips. You leaned in for another but Aaron pulled away.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.” He mumbled into your ear. “You look so breathtaking in this dress.”
Heat rose to your cheeks and you smiled shyly into Aaron’s neck. “Keep talking like that and I won’t be able to control myself.” You replied and looked around the room. Everyone was occupied or engaged in conversation, all centred around Sarah and Thomas. “I don’t think anyone would notice if we disappeared.” You said and the implications in your tone told Aaron exactly what you were thinking.
“Are you sure?” He asked, his hands sliding to yours hips and you nodded eagerly.
The two of you quickly made your way down the long hall to the ostentatious bathroom and checked if anyone was around before you both stepped into the room, locking the door behind you. In an instant, Aaron’s lips were on yours, catching them in a hungry kiss and you stepped back, the back of your legs hitting the the bathroom counter. Aaron swiftly lifted you up and effortlessly placed you softly onto the counter. You parted your legs so Aaron could stand between them, letting him be closer to you as he kissed your jaw and you pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders.
“I never took you as a quickie in the bathroom kind of guy.” You joked breathlessly.
“Neither did I.” He said as lips trailed down to your collarbone. “But you can be quite persuasive Agent Y/L/N.”
You pushed your clothed centre into Aaron’s crotch and he groaned into your ear as you slid your body closer to his from your position on the counter. You could feel him getting harder as each second passed and your kiss grew rougher and more passionate.
“This dress is just so beautiful.” Aaron mumbled. “You are so beautiful.”
You kissed him again hard on the lips and began to unbuckle his belt.
“Eager?” He jokingly muttered as you unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them.
“We don’t have long until they realise we’ve disappeared.” You said. “And I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
Aaron pulled you closer to him and hastily hiked the skirt of your dress up. You could feel how hard he was through his pants and leaned into his ear.
“I need you.” You mumbled desperately.
He reached for his wallet out his back pocket and quickly ruffled through before muttering frustratedly.
“Fuck! I don’t have anything.” He said gruffly.
“It’s fine,” you mumbled as you pulled him back to you by his tie. “I’m on birth control.”
“Are you sure?” He asked. “It’s not always 100% effective…”
You cut him off with a kiss before reaching for his boxers, slipping your hand beneath the waistband and pulling his cock free. Aaron groaned as you took him in your hand and reached down to your panties, pushing the fabric to the side and sliding his fingers inside your slick folds.
“So wet already.” Aaron grumbled and you gasped as he began to pump his index and middle fingers in and out of you slowly.
“Please Aaron.” You pleaded and helped line his length up to your entrance.
Aaron pushed his cock inside you slowly and your hands grabbed onto the edge of the counter tightly. Once he was completely inside of you, he stilled and gave a moment for your body to adjust.
“You ok?” Aaron mumbled and you nodded.
“Yes!” You exhaled.
Aaron began slow thrusts, rocking back and forth, driving into you over and over again. Each thrust felt like ecstasy to him as your walls clenched around his length. It was enough to send him into overdrive. You moaned out quietly and bit your lips to stifle any noises.
“Feel so good.” Aaron grumbled into your neck as his pace picked up and his grip on your hips tightened.
“Aaron!” You moaned at the building pressure between your legs, your grip on the edge of the counter so tight as Aaron’s thrusts grew faster and harder. He placed soft kisses on your neck as he continued to fuck you against the counter and you felt as though you were about to crumble from the pleasure. “Fuck! Right there…” you gasped out as he hit the perfect spot and he positioned himself to make sure he continued hitting the right spot.
“Where do you want me to?…” Aaron began to ask but was cut off by a moan from himself as his own pleasure neared its climax.
“Inside.” You managed to mumble. “Aaron! I’m going to…” all brain function was clouded as your orgasm took over your body.
Aaron buried his head into your shoulder, his thrusts growing sloppy as his own climax neared. A soft moan from your lips was all he needed and he was tumbling over the edge and you gasped at the sudden hot sensation as he filled you up. Aaron continued rocking his hips as he rode out his orgasm. Then, the two of you froze as the doorknob began to aggressively twist as someone attempted to enter the bathroom.
“Occupied!” You managed to call out and you heard a gruff mumble reply from the other side of the door. “Quick, we should get cleaned up.” You whispered and Aaron nodded, pulling out of you slowly and reaching for several tissues from the countertop.
Once you were both cleaned up and looking much more presentable than you were a mere 5 minutes prior, you unlocked the door and quickly exited.
“Remember the quick fucks we used to have?” A voice mumbled from behind you as you and Aaron began to walk down the hall. You turned to see Luke standing against the wall, taking a large swig from his glass.
“I’m sorry?” You asked, taken aback by his abruptness.
“Don’t act dumb Y/N, we all know you two just fucked in the bathroom. We used to do it all the time.” Luke slurred as he walked towards you and Aaron. “I told you she was a good fuck didn’t I?”
“I don’t want any trouble Luke,” Aaron said sternly as he stepped in front of you, shielding you from Luke in a protective manner.
“Come on Aaron, admit it! You’re only with Y/N for the sex. God knows that’s the only reason I stayed with her for five years.”
Anger grew inside Aaron and he stepped forward to Luke. “Just go back to the party and stop bothering Y/N. I warned you last night to leave her alone.”
Luke stepped away and threw his hands up defensively. “Hey whatever! We’re cool man. I mean, I can’t say I envy you being stuck with the needy slut.”
Aaron didn’t even hesitate, his fist formed a ball and without a second thought, he threw a punch to Luke’s jaw and he fell to the floor from the impact. Everything happened so fast and you barely had time to process the situation but you were back at Aaron’s side in an instant and he wrapped his arms around you. Luke slowly stumbled upright as he found his feet, clinging onto his nose as bright red blood spilled over his suit.
“What the fuck! I think you broke my fucking nose!” Luke shouted.
All the commotion had drawn people’s attention from the party as they all made their way to the hallway to see what had happened.
“Oh my god! What have you done?” Sarah shrieked as she looked at the scene before her.
“Broke my fucking nose!” Luke responded angrily.
“It’s not broken.” Aaron rolled his eyes.
“You had to make this about you didn’t you?!” Sarah fumed, turning to you.
“Wh…what?” You fumbled in shock.
“You couldn’t stand the fact that this week was about me and you had to create a scene!”
You started to laugh at her preposterous suggestion. “Are you serious?”
“Girls! Let’s leave this argument until after the wedding.” Your mom said as she tried to intervene.
“You just can’t get over that I’m getting married first so you had to ruin it.” Sarah continued.
“No Sarah! I just couldn’t stand the fact that your let that,” you aggressively pointed at Luke who was now being fussed over by his girlfriend and Thomas. “Asshole to be a part of it.”
“He dumped you two years ago! Get over it.” Sarah replied angrily.
“Trust me Sarah, I’m fucking over it! And you know what? I’m over this wedding as well.” You exclaimed.
“Y/N!” Your mom hissed.
“She’s a fucking psycho mom!” Sarah said. “No wonder she catches them for a living.
Aaron’s grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to him, the tension in the room so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“Why don’t we all calm down and go back to the party?” You dad suggested as he tried to calm the situation.
“I think me and Aaron should go.” You muttered.
“Yes. I think you should.” Sarah said venomously.
“I’ll drive you home.” Your dad offered but you shook your head.
“We’ll just get a cab.” You replied and took Aaron’s hand in yours.
***
“I’m sorry.” Aaron said as the two of you walked into the deserted house.
“For what?” You asked, turning around to face him.
“I escalated the situation. I should have never punched Luke but I couldn’t stand listening to how he spoke about you.” He loosened his tie as he spoke.
“Don’t apologise.” You said sternly, walking over to him and intertwining your hands with his. “I’m lucky to have you defending my honour.” Your tried to joke and Aaron smiled.
“But you’re sister…” He began but you cut him off.
“Needs to realise that not everything is going to be perfectly smooth.” You rolled your eyes. “We’ll know in the morning if I’m still maid of honour. But, it’s going to be hilarious seeing Luke tomorrow standing at the end of the aisle with a broken nose.”
Aaron groaned and rolled his eyes. “I did not break it! It was just a light punch.”
“A light punch? You nearly killed him!” You laughed and Aaron sighed defeatedly despite the small smile on his lips. “But I must admit, it was very sexy.”
Aaron chuckled sheepishly and placed his hands on your hips, still in awe of your appearance and your dress. You leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Let’s go upstairs and pretend everything today didn’t happen.” You muttered against Aaron’s lips.
“Everything?” He quizzed, pulling away and raising an eyebrow which caused your to giggle.
“Ok, not everything.” You laughed and the two of you began to trek up the stairs to your bedroom.
When you entered your room, you immediately kicked off your heels and began to unzip your dress. Aaron followed closely behind, taking off his jacket and tie before sitting down on the bed to untie his shoes.
Soon, you and Aaron were sat in bed together, he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders while you nestled into his side. It felt so natural, so domestic. You could still smell Aaron’s cologne on his neck and it smelt like heaven, sending ripples of relaxation through your body.
“I could spend all day in your arms.” You mumbled into his chest.
“I’d love nothing better than to lay in bed with you all day.”Aaron replied.
“What will the team say when they find out about this?” You asked.
“They will definitely tease us. Dave would claim he’d always known we would get together.” Aaron scoffed. “He actually…” he paused, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. “He actually tried to get me to ask you out.”
“Really?” You asked surprise, sitting up straight so that you were facing him.
He chuckled nervously. “Yes. His voice kept circling my head that night I agreed to do this with you. I could hear Dave’s words repeating over and over.”
“What did he say to you?” You asked eagerly.
“He said ‘If you don’t tell Y/N how you feel, I’ll do it for you’ and I couldn’t stand the thought of you finding out how I felt about you from David Rossi of all people.” Aaron laughed.
You suddenly gasped. “Oh my god! Rossi is the reason you bought me those earrings for my birthday isn’t he?”
Heat rose to Aaron’s cheeks before he nodded slowly. “Dave saw you show a picture of them to Garcia and JJ and told me to get them for you. I rarely listen to Dave’s advice when it comes to relationships but this was the one time I listened to a suggestion from him.”
You leaned forward and kissed Aaron passionately, wrapping your arms round his neck. His hand instinctively went to your hips as he held you in place. You pulled away and looked deeply into his eyes.
“I love you.” You said breathlessly.
Aaron smiled brightly. “I love you too.” He said before leaning in to kiss you again.
***
“Did you go to that party with a plan to ruin your sister’s wedding?” Your mom shrieked as she burst into your room. You and Aaron jolted apart at her sudden entrance, her shrill voice piercing your ears.
“Mom, oh my god.” You sighed. “You made us jump!”
“You were very rude to your sister at her rehearsal dinner.” You mom continued, a sour look on her face. “She is downstairs so upset with what happened. You’re lucky she still wants you to be her maid of honour tomorrow.”
“I think you’re both being over dramatic. Luke got what he deserved.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s not my fault Sarah started an unnecessary argument.”
“Luke has got a potential broken nose! We don’t know of he’ll be able to go to the wedding tomorrow.”
“Would that really be so terrible?” You asked.
“Enough! Tomorrow is Sarah’s day, let the past with Luke go and try and behave for the wedding tomorrow.”
“Jesus mom, I’m not 5 anymore.” You huffed at her ridiculous words.
“In Y/N’s defence,” Aaron spoke from his position next to you on the bed. “Luke has said some disgusting things about Y/N this weekend. I don’t usually go round throwing punches but I couldn’t stand there and let him call my girlfriend, your daughter a slut.”
Your mom was taken aback by what Aaron said. She struggled to find the words she wanted to speak.
“Just make sure you apologise to Sarah in the morning, she’s staying here tonight. The night before her wedding and all that.” Your mom muttered and then swiftly exited your room, shutting the door behind her.
“Christ tomorrow is going to be painful.” You groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow.
***
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synthetickitsune · 1 year
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ateez + when they overhear you talking lovingly about them
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Hongjoong ❧ He’d never regret coming home to you, not at all, but as he drags his sluggish body from the elevator to the door… yeah, all he can think about is the chair in his studio and the many nights he’s spent there. But then he sees you, and you take over immediately. He can shut down and trust you to take care of him. You help him change into something comfortable, you set the alarm for him to wake up, take a shower and eat. He clings to you, always does when he’s this bone-tired. So you let him use you as a body pillow, his head on your chest and arms and legs thrown over your body. He’s asleep soon and is surprised to wake up before the alarm. He hears something. A soft, gentle voice speaking. It’s pure comfort, a dream come true. Telling him he did well, that he’s enough, that he’s loved, that that someone’s proud of him… it sounds like you. He nuzzles closer, melting into you as he falls asleep before he can fall apart. When the alarm wakes him, he still feels like he’s on a cloud. Mind a bit clearer, he realizes what he heard, and he smiles. He rolls on top of you, kissing you lazily and you hum in surprise. He begs for five more minutes with you. He almost never does, so you allow it. And as he lays on top of you, face buried in your neck, his brain works a mile a minute. He needs to show you he appreciates you. Tell you the things he never remembers to say in the rush of his busy days. But maybe for now it’ll be enough if he just stays with you like this. He can trust you to read between the lines, so he doesn’t let go of you for the rest of the evening.    
Seonghwa ❧ He’s promised himself he won’t cry in front of you, at least not so easily. And he doesn’t, he isn’t, it’s just the onions you’re cutting, preparing dinner for you both with your mother on speaker asking questions about him, your relationship, where you think things are going. Curiosity just got the better of him when he heard the anxiety in your voice. It’s the excited kind, not a worried one. The kind that tells him you can’t wait for a future with him, and it makes his heart full and his knees weak. You're smiling as you speak, he can tell, and a smile blooms on his lips too as he wipes away the one traitor tear and makes his way to you once your mother hangs up. He hugs you from behind, leaning your head against your instead of resting his chin on your shoulder like you expected him to. He plants kiss after kiss to the side of your face, cooing and praising you for every little thing. It gets annoying and you put down the knife. He doesn’t let you turn around in his arms, trapping you against the counter. He doesn’t trust his emotions not to overflow again. Instead he keeps whispering to you, voice getting weaker and shakier as he admits all the things he’s dreamed about. The family, or pets if that’s what you’d prefer, a shared home, warm dinner eaten curled up together. Comfort and love all around. Just you and him always. If you'll have him, if he isn't dreaming. He allows you to turn and kiss him this time.
Yunho ❧ He prides himself on the many times he’s been told by his friends that he’s the perfect material to show to his partner’s parents (if he ever gets one, they’d add). And now he’s happy to see that they were right - your parents love him, they fawn over him so much you’re embarrassed but he finds it reassuring. If your parents approve of him, then maybe he can start talking about the future with you, someday soon. There’s the question of whether you want any such thing as a future with him, but he gets his answer soon. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he was just lost in thought and then he was too stunned to speak. Talk about coincidences… He bites his lip to stifle a laugh when he hears what sounds like a competition between you and your father on the subject of who loves him more and why. When your father says that he’d readily accept him into the family, though, your excitement fades, cools down and he gets worried until he hears your quiet confession of I hope you’ll get to do it soon. He leans further into the wall, allowing himself a gentle smile before he clears his throat and joins you and your parents at the table again. He holds your hand throughout, under the table or for everyone to see, it doesn’t matter. He wants the world to know he’s serious about your relationship, you most of all. Still he protects you from your parents’ teasing, even if your blush is endearing, he wants you to feel comfortable and protected by his side. No matter who it is that stands against him. 
Yeosang ❧ He messed up and now he was in a rush. The practice drained him more than he expected and so he decided to have a quick nap, but now he only has like five minutes before you’ll arrive to clean his room. He puts away his clothes, straightens the sheets, picks up stray mess around the room and he’s good, but what he only learns as he steps through his door, phone in hand to call you, is that you’re already in. He hears your voice, whisper-shouting at someone, and the other person talking the same way. It’s Wooyoung, and Yeosang doesn’t like the tone his friend is using on his lover. But the closer he comes, the more heat rushes to his cheeks and his heartbeat picks up. While he still disapproves of his friend scolding you, interrogating you like you’re a criminal - do you treat him right? - he appreciates the sentiment. He likes your answer even more - he’s the love of my life, idiot. And you go on. Listing the little things you noticed and like about him, things he wasn’t aware of. He doesn’t know what to do. He peers from behind the corner and meets eyes with his friend, but you keep going. Until Woo jerks his head towards Yeosang. You’re both bright red, escaping into the safety of his room before the younger man can start his teasing. It’s quiet, and awkward. You’re looking everywhere but each other, until he makes the first step, unexpectedly. He pulls you into a tight hug, hiding his face into your hair, whispering a simple I love you. He doesn’t need to say more. His determination and feelings show through his actions. He dotes on you, and gets protective of you, holding you close any chance he gets. You’re his for life.
San ❧ He comes home just as your friend is putting on her shoes to leave. He doesn’t miss the way she looks at him, so intently he feels bare. He doesn’t like it, it makes him squirm for some reason. But then you’re saying goodbyes and you probably haven’t heard him coming back to hang his jacket that he forgot to take off in his rush to escape being observed by your friend, because when she asks you about the future, you don’t hesitate, chuckling quietly before spilling the beans. It’s a fight in his mind between sulking and melting on the spot, because you should be telling those things to him. But when you call him the one, the fight’s lost. How could he stay mad? And as suspicious as he was about your friend, he can’t help but smile at her quiet encouraging and approving words. His smile widens when you jump once you turn and see him. He’s swooning as he walks over to you and wraps you in a big, tight hug. He coos and purrs into your hair, telling you how cute and precious you are, and how precious you are to him. Be prepared for him clinging to you for the rest of the day at least, he can’t leave you alone. He’ll run you both a warm bubble bath so you don’t have to be separated by washing up either. Somewhere between bubbles and chuckles he’ll ask if you meant it, yet before you can even confirm it, he blurts out he feels the same. And then you’re pressed into his chest as he plants kisses all over your face.
Mingi ❧ Something fell into his eyes. He accidentally poked himself into one. There’s dust and sand in the air. There’s something in the air. If he was honest, he’d admit that the something were your words, sweet, loving, reassuring, just what he needed to hear after the day he had. Looking back, he was probably overthinking stuff, too tired from long hours of practicing to think clearly, but anyway, coming home to hear all this? He can’t cope. He quite literally can’t function, standing frozen in the hallway until you come out of the room and see your boyfriend having a lil’ bit emotional moment. He starts wiping at his cheeks and muttering what you realize are apologies for overhearing when you step closer. He’s cute, with his cautious look and hesitantly opened arms. You smile and shake your head as you hug him back, melting into him. You admit you’re actually glad he heard, because you wouldn’t have the confidence to tell him face to face anyway. The rest of the day is all soft touches and your favorite food eaten in comfortable silence with your favorite movie put on, and the night is quiet and gentle, but without any personal space. What’s new, though, is the way his hand stays on your waist or the small of your back when you’re out with friends, and the way he always, without fail, calls you his. His love, his darling, his sweetheart, his honey, his.
Wooyoung ❧ He panics, a little bit, not too much, definitely not too much. It’s all your fault anyway. He thought you were joking, teasing because you knew he could hear. If it wasn’t for the flash of that soft, fond smile on your face that he’s never seen before, he’d probably keep believing that. Now it’s stuck in his mind on loop. All your words, feelings poured out honestly without embarrassment, and that damned smile. It all runs through his head as he frantically runs around the store, picking your favorite snacks and drinks and yeeting them into the cart on top of the actual groceries you came to buy before your mother called. He throws in a cute plushie or two for good measure too. It’s a race against time to pay for all of it and bag it up before you notice you’ve lost him, but he succeeds. He even manages to get to the car and put the bags inside before you call him, asking him where he is between apologies. He runs to you, hugging you tight and spinning you around in his arms. You get suspicious immediately. Even more so when he refuses to tell you what’s up, pouting and swinging your interlocked hands. It only clicks when you get home and he sets one bag down in the kitchen and the other in front of you. He gets on his knees, holding your hands and promising you to be better for you, throwing in some teasing and his own confessions, until it’s so messy that you need to shut him up with a kiss.
Jongho ❧ He once again realizes just why he loves you so. He might not show it as much, what with his busy schedule and the shyness that still overcomes him when you look at him, but he truly does and he wrecks his brain for any way to show it. How is he supposed to think clearly, though, with your head in his lap, sleeping soundly as he runs his fingers over your scalp and plays with your hair? You were half out of it when he came in, exhausted after pulling an all-nighter to meet some stupid deadline. He’s sure you won’t remember the soft, love-filled words that you’ve mumbled in your sleepy daze. Nor the blush that crawled up his neck as you said them and clinged to him, refusing to let go until he promised he’d be back soon. And here he is, happy, his chest tight with feelings he doesn’t know how to deal with. Maybe he’ll try to cook for you. You always do it for him, despite insisting you’re no cook so perhaps that’s a way? But that doesn’t seem right. He should meet your genuine feelings with his own. So he waits until you wake up, and holds your hand any chance he gets before your delivery arrives. (He gave up on the idea of cooking, realizing he has no idea what to cook even if he wanted to.) You eye him suspiciously, but you seem to be happy about the affection. So he never lets go of your hand when you later sit on the couch, stomachs full and tv playing in the background, and he tells you how he feels about you and the future, where you’d be very much welcomed.
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baby-yongbok · 7 months
Text
Poetry
Chapter One - Last Copy
Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, the kind that makes you blush a little.
Word Count: 1,433
A/N: Hyunjin's airport outfit got me thinking so I just wrote this cute little thing real quick! I'm thinking about making it another mini series so let me know if you want a part two! I'm putting way too much on my plate but I can't help it 😭
Summary: You meet a cute stranger at your favorite bookstore cafe.
Part Two
✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧ ✧Main Masterlist✧
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You browsed the shelves for your favorite poet's new release. You were determined to buy it in both paperback and hardcover before it went flying off the shelves. You skim the spines of the many books searching for the poet’s name when you finally come across it. A wide smile paints your face as you reach for the final hardcover copy, that smile quickly drops when your hand collides with one of a stranger next to you. You must've been so focused that you hadn't noticed him. 
"Pardon me." He apologizes softly, slightly bowing his head towards you. 
"No no, it's alright. I should've been paying attention." The two of you stand there glancing between each other and the book for a second too long before he breaks the silence. 
"You reached for it three seconds before me so you should have it." The tall man grins down at you as he picks up the book and holds it out to you. "I can always get it online. "
"Oh no, it's fine! I can just buy the paperback." You give him a kind grin and his lips pull into a thin line. 
"Well then you really should take this then because I just picked up the last paperback." A quiet chuckle leaves his lips as he holds it up momentarily for you to see. You can't help but smile and giggle a bit as you push a strand of hair behind your ear. 
"Ah, okay, well in that case how could I turn down a hard cover of my favorite poet?" You take the book from him and start to study it immediately. You sigh happily as you run your fingers over the cover, taking in every detail. "I love their book design. Every single one is so unique and fresh, it really reflects their work perfectly." 
"I agree, I think that the use of abstract art on the cover is a beautiful touch." You smile up at him again and this time you take a moment to study his features. His jet black hair is in a half up half down style and his circle lens glasses compliment his shining eyes perfectly. Not to mention his pink lips and structured jaw which are the icing on a very handsome cake. You take in his black sweater and matching black pants, his style is very attractive and from the looks of his Versace necklace very expensive. 
"I think so too, it's one of the things that drew me to them." He grins down at you and shakes his head slightly. He tilts his head to the side a bit before letting the tip of his tongue dip out of his mouth and skate across his bottom lip. You notice his eyes wandering over your frame and for some reason the action is welcomed by you. You don't feel uncomfortable in the slightest. He catches himself staring and suddenly holds his hand out to you. 
"I'm Hyunjin by the way." You blush slightly as you grin up at him.
"Y/n" He smiles at your name and you can't help but to look down at your feet for a second. Your hands stay together in a handshake for a few seconds too long before you let go. 
"Well, Y/n, uh I was actually about to sit at the Cafe up front and get started on this book... Would you maybe want to sit with me? We can share our thoughts on it. That is if you aren't busy or anything." He pulls his lips into a thin line and the tips of his ears turn a bit red as his nerves start to get to him. You smile blushing a bit yourself. 
"I um.. I actually think that I'd like that a lot." He smiles as he pushes up his glasses and looks away towards the bookshelf for a second, most likely to stop himself from smiling like an idiot, not like it matters though, at this point the blush covering both of your cheeks is a dead give away to your excitement. 
"Great, after you." You shake your head and turn on your heels leading the way over to the Cafe where the two of you stare at the menu. "I don't know why I'm even looking, I get the same thing every time." 
You chuckle as your eyes land on exactly what you'd like. "What's that?" 
"An iced americano and a white cream latte." You furrow your brows towards him curiously. 
"Two coffees?" He blushes a bit, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and scratching softly 
"I may have a caffeine problem." He chuckles a bit and you follow suit. "What would you like? It's on me."
"Oh no, you don't have to."
"I insist." He smiles down at you with bright and excited eyes and you feel yourself melt a bit. 
"I suppose I can't turn down free refreshments" You step forward towards the cashier and start your order, once you're done Hyunjin adds his items and he reaches into his pocket to pull out his Versace wallet. Who exactly is this guy? He has very expensive taste. You watch as he skims the many cards in his wallet and your face heats up a bit when he pulls out a black card. Okay, no really who is this guy? 
"Wanna find us a table?" He asks as he stuffs his wallet back into his pocket. You nod in agreement and quickly retreat to your favorite table in the back corner of the cafe. You get comfortable, crossing your legs indian style and leaning back against the plush booth. You take your phone out of your purse to briefly check your messages but before you could reply to anyone Hyunjin approaches with a tray full of refreshments. 
"Here we go." He sits across from you, serving you your items from the tray. 
"Thank you very much." You smile as you take your mug and bring it up to your lips briefly, taking a sip. You smile to yourself as you let the warmth of your drink surge through you. 
"So, Y/n, do you come here often?" Hyunjin asks as he sips his Americano and you can't help but to chuckle
"Really? You used that line?" He grins slightly but it quickly turns into a smile and a quiet embarrassed laugh as his fingers caress the skin of his neck. 
"I'm sorry, I guess I’m a little rusty. I honestly don't talk to alluring women such as yourself often..I'm usually quite reserved? Kind of the shy type socially.”
You smile and you can feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks. " I could say the same.. I don't talk to alluring men very often. I only read about them."
Hyunjin smiles, his fingers interlacing as he brings them up towards his face and leans in towards you. "Call me crazy but I have a feeling that you'll be more interesting than any book I've ever read."
Okay, you're definitely blushing now. "Yeah? I think I could say the same about you." 
Hyunjin looks down at his lap with a wide smile, He licks his lips before grabbing his coffee and takes a long sip before looking back up at you with flushed cheeks. 
"So, do you come here often? Because if you do I will too." You tilt your head to the side slightly with a curious eyebrow raised. 
"Is that right?"
"I wouldn't lie to you." He mimics your curious demeanor. 
"I come here at least once a week." He shakes his head as he picks up his drink.
"Looks like I need to change my schedule." You smile as you take a piece of the cinnamon roll that you ordered with your tea. 
"Looks like you do." You both hold a smile as your eyes search each other's.
"So... this book, how about I read it to you?" 
"You want to read me poetry?" He nods confidently as he reaches for your copy of the book. "You just want to touch the hardcover."
"That is true, you caught me" a playful smile pulls at his lips and you smile back, crossing your arms as you lean forward and rest your elbows on the table. 
"Hm, fine but if you damage it you owe me a new copy."
"Deal." He smiles as he opens the book and you watch as his long slim fingers flip through the pages. "Alright, ready?"
You pick up your mug and take a sip before grinning and smiling towards him. 
"Ready"
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♡ Next Chapter ➟
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arctrooper69 · 1 year
Text
Born for This
This is my gift for @starborncyare-deactivated202303 as a part of the @cloneficgiftexchange (which you should go and check out bc there are a TON of amazing fic authors).
Prompt: "Cyar'ika no." // "But it followed me back to camp!"
P.S. Sorry for posting so late tonight. I meant to post it earlier but life got in the way. Hope you like it though!
Holy crap I tagged the wrong person 😱😱😱 I'm so sorry!
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Warnings: None?
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"Where in the kriffing galaxy have you be -" Kix stuttered, cutting himself off as you walked through the door holding what looked like a large bundle of towels. Whatever you were carrying barely fit in your arms. "Uh...what is that?"
Before you could respond, the bundle began to wiggle and two long angular ears popped out of the top.
Kix's look of concern flipped to one of disbelief in a matter of nanoseconds.
Oh Force, not again.
Jesse and Hardcase had brought him an injured tooka the week before and it had wrecked havoc in his med bay when it got loose. Kix desperately hoped this wouldn't be a repeat of that disaster.
Though, despite his initial worries, he had to smile. You did look awfully cute sporting that wide grin of yours. He loved how the tip of your nose crinkled when you were truly happy.
Kix took a step forward, curiously peering at the creature cocooned in your arms.
Oh. Kriff.
He almost wished it was a feral tooka.
He slid his hand down his face and took a deep breath as he stepped back. "Cyar'ika," he said evenly, keeping his voice as calm as he could muster. "Please tell me that isn't what I think it is."
You looked down as the creature in question poked his head out from beneath the towel, large yellow eyes curiously gazing around the room.
"This little guy?" You cooed at the large cub. He barely fit in your arms.
"Little!?" Kix almost yelled, shooting you an incredulous look. "That thing is a gundark and could very easily tear you apart!"
As if on cue, the cub let out a purring growl before yawning, displaying rows of razor sharp teeth.
You frowned. "His name is Tiny and I don't think he likes what you just said about him."
Kix pinched the bridge of his nose, not quite believing the scene before him.
"You named it!?"
You nodded enthusiastically.
"And....what made you decide to bring it here?"
The gundark whined, knocking his head against your shoulder, blinking up at you.
"He was wandering around just outside the base. I think there's something wrong with his paw. He was limping and I thought you could help him!"
"It is a gundark, cyar'ika. Please get it out of my med bay before it eats someone."
Your expression fell. "But he's hurt! He doesn't have a mom anymore! We have to keep him!"
"No. Absolutely not. Go outside. Put it down immediately and go wash your hands."
"But he followed me back to camp! I think he thinks I'm his mom now. Please at least just help me patch him up!"
Kix sighed. Part of him wanted to yell at you, tell you that the cub was dangerous, that it could seriously hurt you. Kix had seen brothers be torn to pieces by these creatures. He could still hear their screams as they were eaten alive. He wanted that danger as far away from you as possible.
On the other hand, the amount of compassion you displayed towards this injured animal was the same kindness he'd seen you show daily as you helped nurse his wounded brothers back to health. You were born for this - he saw it everyday. Watching you be so gentle towards such a bloodthirsty creature stirred something inside of him. You were strong, he knew that, and as much as he tried to keep you out of trouble, danger just followed along behind, but you faced it head on with such a genuine, loving thoughtfulness. It was part of who you were.
Maybe it was time to act on those feelings that had been growing stronger day by day.
Kix chuckled softly as his hand grazed your shoulder. He smiled warmly, latching onto that growing sparkle of dedicated excitement in your eyes.
"Alright, cyar'ika. Let's see what we're working with."
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