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#So you know what kind of fics are coming out of this
horrorartsworld · 1 day
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Hey!! A mutual just sent me your fic "A manspreading man" and gosh,,,definitely one of the best steamy Alastor x reader I've read 😩❤ If you're okay with it, could I request an Alastor x shy!reader where a cozy night when neither of them can sleep so they stay up, maybe having tea together too but, they end up getting steamy with each other?,, 😳 Love your work!! ❤❤
𝓉𝑒𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹
alastor/shy f!reader
warnings: smut w/ a lil fluffies. pet names. kind of primal alastor. p in v. fingering. dub con. not proofread.
aww thank you nonnie baby!! tbh manspreading man was one of my favorites to write so i’m very glad to hear that you liked it so much to request something this lovely & spicy 🤭 got me going back to my roots with writing for al lol, i hope u enjoy <3
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For some odd reason you couldn’t fall asleep. Not that the noises of constant terrors outside and the old sounds of the hotel didn’t have you usually sleeping like a baby it’s just that tonight of all nights seemed different.
Having you tossing and turning like a flopping fish, moments of just staring at the empty ceiling, or throwing a pillow over your face in hopes that you might suffocate yourself to sleep, but none of those seemed to help your ongoing sleep deprivation.
Finally after the last toss you turned you end up throwing yourself out of bed with a huff and your feet seem to oddly enough lead you to none of than Alastor’s quarters right across from your room. The door being slightly cracked enough to let you peak inside, hearing the inviting soft crackly of a jazz record playing and seeing the flicker of a candle going on an end table. Though it seemed very inviting you couldn’t help the sudden nervousness you felt wash over you when you went to approach the door, hugging the blanket you dragged along the way for some kind of support in this. Since you did have a crush on the deer fellow after all and everytime he would come around you would loose all your senses and look like an utter idiot when you’d scurry away from him to save face. In which you were completely committed to doing right now until the door suddenly swung open and you were met with Alastor’s elegantly tall stature.
“Oh!- Well hello my dear..” He speaks surprised to see you standing there holding your blanket in hand, hearing the static in his voice instantly turning your cheeks pink. “What brings you to my door at this hour.?”
You shift on your feet fiddling with your hands in the blanket before speaking, “m’ sorry a-alastor i-i just couldn’t sleep..i’ll be going now..” Your eyes trained on the buttons of his blazer, never meeting his gaze in knowing you’d blush more if you did while you spoke, quickly turning on your heel to make your way back to your room though his clawed hand grabbed your wrist before you could completely make your getaway.
Then you were pulled back to face him, his other hand coming up to your chin to make you look up at him, your cheeks instantly warming up more like you knew they would. “Can’t sleep? You poor thing..I actually have quite the remedy for such things..” He hums, then suddenly letting go of you to grab something from a cupboard leaving you standing there in his doorway.
After a second or two he turns his head to see you standing there sheepishly earning a soft chuckle from him. “Come sit dear..it’ll just be a moment.” He says nodding over to an antique arm chair that sat next to an intricate round table with a matching chair on the other side to go with it.
You shimmy yourself over to it making yourself comfortable on the chair, seeming to feel a bit more relaxed now that you were seated. Alastor then comes to sit down across from you holding two warm teacups that you were sure he used his demon magic to conjure to a certain temp, gesturing it out to you to take. “It’s Chamomile Tea…should do the trick for your sleeplessness..” He says taking his own sip before you did, letting the cup warm up your hands until you tasted it yourself feeling instantly at ease when it went down your throat.
“Wow…that’s good! Thank you Al!” You say with a soft hum and a smile causing Alastor’s smile to look more gentle though something was silently brewing behind those mischievous dial eyes.
“My pleasure my dear…my pleasure indeed..” He takes another sip as there’s a long pause between the two of you. Seeing his gaze over the rim of the cup had wandered down your chest to your hips in an indiscreet way, making your breath slightly falter at the sight.
“S-so…what’re you doing up so late as well?” Your gentle voice hardly above a whisper when you stammer out the question.
“Well I hardly ever sleep..too much to do..and too many folks out there trying to put my head on a mount..” He says nonchalantly in which you nod knowing this was very true with his background, but it was hard to even focus on a simple conversation like this one when his gaze continued its improper cycle along your body.
“Um A-alastor?” You tilt your head down trying to catch his eyes in attempt at getting his attention back by making him realize what he was doing though he already was very much aware what he was doing.
“Hmm? Oh sorry dear, it’s just that…fuck..” He unexpectedly cruses causing your thighs to staple shut when a warmth radiates through your core. Your eyes widening at his outburst, taking note that his chest was rising and falling rather quickly. “W-what’s the matter?” You mutter out confused, big doe eyes searching for some kind of answer on his unreadable face.
A tension brews as a low crackly chuckle escapes from his lips, “You like me don’t you little fawn?”
The unexpected question making a lump form in your throat. Why was he asking this? Were you that obvious? “Going quiet on me now?” His voice rippling through your thoughts with a sense of mocking in his tone. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of darling…” He trails off then getting up from his chair with a creak from its old legs, rounding the small table to come and tower over you, microphone buzzing when he sets it beside him as he leaned into you very close with ether hands at the sides of you clutching the arms of your chair. “..I’m quite fond of you myself..” He husks, his once static voice turning to his normal one as he leaned into your ear to utter those words.
“Y-you are?” You manage to find your voice again, feeling as if the chamomile tea had already kicked in and you were in a surreal dream.
“Mmm yess..” He practically purrs while he toys with the hem of your sleep shorts before riding it up so he can peer down at your plush thighs that were trembling so desperately to try and keep them sealed shut. Then thumbing over the sensitive flesh there he forces them open with his claws digging into them so he could hoist you up and wrap your legs around his hips to bring you to bed and once he has you there he lays you down with him on top but keeping your legs secured around him. “..Feel how much i yearn for you,” he says almost like a question as you then feel him grind his hard on into your clothed warmth. Your face burning as you nod. “Good girl..Shall I show you what I want to do to you?” once more nodding your head he can’t help the low growl admitting from the back of his throat when he slides a finger under the hem of your shorts and pulls them down towards the floor, primal eyes locking onto the wetness of your panties. The sight making his smile enlarged.
“My, My...so soaked just from that?” He couldn’t help but tease, in one single motion ripping your panties off, discarding them just like the shorts.
A low humming buzz is heard when Alastor gets a full view of your needy slick. Pretty pussy, all puffy and red, begging for a good fuck. You couldn’t help instinctively attempt at closing your legs once more with how vulnerable you were infront of him, but he holds them open forcefully with his hands. “Sweetheart..no need to shy away from me…i’m gonna make you feel so good..” you whimper softly just by those cooed words alone, along with the two fingers that were now invading your entrance. The sensation making your body shake as he did it without warning, moving in slow in and out strokes with his fingers, making wet sloshy noises with the air with your hushed whimpers. His fingers feeling like they were so far inside that they’ve reached max capacity…Was his fingers always this long?
“Al-al!..” You whine breathlessly, an all too familiar feeling stirring beneath your tummy with your cunt clenching around his fingers, but he immediately stops just before you could fully come undone.
“Not yet...” He hums with a knowing smile, gently patting your cheek with the other hand. You pout at this though that was quickly replaced when his fingers come in contact with his mouth, softly slurping up the left slick on his fingers, before he crashes his lips on yours, long tongue invading your space making you taste the tangy yet neutral flavor of your own arousal, all while your hips rut against his own in hopes to get that feeling back of your lost euphoria.
Finally getting the hint from your movements he pulls back and takes out his cock, tantalizing tapping it against your aching slit before fully pressing it into your already awaiting pussy. A loud enough cry following with his cock stretching you out with it’s full enough size, reaching much farther lengths then his fingers did. “Such a snug little thing you are,” He hisses while rutting into you, your body bouncing and recoiling with every thrust.
Your head falls back into the mattress, mumbling curses under your breath as the feeling was driving you mad, making him chuckle as you seem to squeeze him in tighter. “You like that..the way my cock just goes in…and out..” He groans as he emphasizes the in and out part by going slow and hard, his cock hitting the wall of your cervix even when he goes slow. “Hey..let me see those pretty fucked out eyes..” he growls lowly, “Atta girl..,” his finger leaning your chin down to look at him, the sight of him so sinful it almost made you come undone on the spot.
His ears flat amongst his head, eyes low and focused and his lip curled almost in a smirk with sweat lining his forehead. You wanted that imagine burned in your brain, which you couldn’t help but admit in your slur of babbles passing from your lips, which only made him fuck you even harder. “Mphmm, yeah? Burned in your brain huh..? That can be arranged..” He snickers genuinely considering haunting you with this imagine from time to time just to make you squirm.
Soon enough, the tightening of your tummy comes back once more and your walls contracts around Alastor’s cock harder then you’d expect. The cum creaming down his cock and dripping onto his sheets beneath you though his pace and speed never lets up. If anything it becomes more impactful as he works up his own orgasm, with you feeling overly sensitive.
His claws dig into your hips as his own snaps ferociously against yours and your post-cumming expression floating in your big eyes was enough to have him over the edge. “I’m gonna make you feel nice and full okay sweetheart?” He seethes out as his hips sputter and he spills his load into your spent little womb.
Slowly pulling out and away, he makes a towel appear in his hand to help you clean up. A soft whimper making its way out at the hollowness you now felt inside, but you were starting to feel sleepy with a small yawn coming after your whimper. “That’s it’s darling…you can sleep now..” He then tucks you under the covers gently with a soft kiss to your forehead seeing your eyes fluttering gently into slumber, completely spent with the workout he just gave you.
After he cleans himself and gets dressed he walks over to the abounded teacups eyeing his own carefully, when he realizes in the murky brew that he accidentally spiked his own somehow, chuckling at his own mix up that ether way seemed to do the trick for your tiresome night.
“No wonder the tea’s gone cold..”
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genderlessdude92 · 2 days
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PRECIOUS
SMALL LIL’ ANGST—>FLUFF FIC
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PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader
SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!
WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3
NOTICE: please don't steal/copy/translate my work. But thanks for liking it, though!! ^^
WORDS: 1.7k
Enjoy!!~
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“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.
Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!
Which made you really, really paranoid.
“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.
Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.
“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.
“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.
Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.
You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”
Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”
You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.
“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”
“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)
“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”
“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.
You felt like nothing.
Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.
His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.
You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.
***
It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.
It had also been a week since you came out of your office.
You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?
Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.
You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.
You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.
***
Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.
An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.
But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.
But, now he was confused.
What happened with Y/N?
He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.
He was starting to miss her.
…he needed to give her an apology.
But he knew he wasn’t good with words.
So, he brainstormed.
“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”
He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.
“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”
He sat there for a while longer, thinking.
Then it hit him.
***
You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.
The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.
You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.
“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”
You just stared at him, saying nothing
‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”
“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”
“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.
“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.
You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.
Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.
“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.
“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.
You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”
Alastor knew exactly why, as well.
He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.
“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.
You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.
He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.
***
You and Alastor missed this.
Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.
Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.
You were still crying.
He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”
You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.
He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.
You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.
He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.
You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.
He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.
You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.
Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.
“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.
“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”
You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.
“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,
“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.
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NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!
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my heart over yours; part two | j.fleming x reader
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prompt: your attention is suddenly not fully on jessie and she's not taking it well.
author notes: here's the part two y'all wanted 🥳 thanks for all the love on the first part like i swear i seen everything, just too nervous to say anything back lmaoo. regardless i hope this meets expectations 💗 enjoy! p.s. i swear the fic reads better while listening to the song...
contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, jealous!jessie, jeffery is trying to not tweak out 💔 #failed, reader is sorta of a bad gf/about to be gf to blondie, slight guilt tripping (?) not on purpose, spelling / grammatical issues maybe ignore them, jessie is sorta mean in this..
part one
playing been away by brent faiyaz 🎵
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you don't answer jessie's question right away. easily being able to spot the badly hidden irritation in her voice, she could never hide her emotions from you. your heartbeat picks up as you look away from your screen. your eyes landing on your wall before you say anything. jessie asks something else before you can even answer her first question; "what did you say?"
"jess, what do you mean what did i say? if i said i forgot.. and.." you try to figure out what to say but can't find the words to tell your bestfriend that you forgot her game and technically can't make it because of a date with some girl you hardly know from class. jessie stays silent as she gets up out of the hotel bed. leaving her phone on the bed, her camera just facing the ceiling. you narrow your eyes in confusion, but before you could even say anything jessie comes back into the frame.
she grabs her phone then sets it up against something on the nightstand next to the bed. your confusion worsens as you notice some type of shirt in her hands as she walks back a little so that most of her is in the frame; now that you can fully see her you notice that she's wearing your plaid pajama shorts and your hoodie.
"so that's where my clothes went?" you say in a joking tone, trying to lighten the mood. you smile once you see jessie let out a soft giggle. she shakes her head before holding up the shirt; showing off the backside that has your last name on it. now that you can see what the shirt actually is you can see it's a national canadian team jersey. you let out a loud laugh of disbelief, not expecting to see your name on the back in of a national team jersey ever. "jessie..what..?" you say, a smile on your lips.
jessie holds up the jersey for a few minutes before moving out of frame to go put it back near her bag on the other side of the room. she comes back to the phone, picks it up, and lays down on her bed.
"all of the team said we should get you this since you're always at every game.. sometimes.." you giggle hearing jessie say sometimes, she gives you a little eye roll before continuing, "and we were going to surprise you with it this weekend but.."
her trailing off makes you frown. guilt rushes into your mind. you have been to a majority of the canadian national team's games especially if they happened in canada; it just felt natural to support jessie and pretty soon after attending your fifth game, you weren't just attending for jessie. you went to the games to see the other national team players as well. with the whole team becoming close to you just as they are close to jessie. you're basically a honorary player.
"god, jessie-" again you try to explain yourself more, but she cuts you off again. "sorry i just keep not letting you talk, but, god.. you don't have to come if you don't want to. it's not like i want to guilt you into doing something. never that," jessie says softly. you let out a sigh at how kind-hearted jessie can really be. she was a true sweetheart.
you go silent for a few moments. thinking about the current situation and how you could possibly not hurt anyone's feelings in the process. jessie was your top priority, but sasha didn't deserve to just be blown off. she wasn't too bad; she was really a good person too. it didn't feel fair to just drop her. you let out a soft gasp when an idea comes to your mind. jessie furrows her brows as you say, "i'll come but i have to talk to sasha first. you know about the date. don't wanna just blow her off."
"oh, okay. yeah that's.. whatever," the freckled woman tries to hide the irritation that's back in her tone. why did you have to talk to sasha about anything? especially something pertaining to you and jessie, not sasha. you hardly knew the girl and now you needed her opinion on decisions that frankly don't have nothing to do with her? it was slowly pissing jessie off. she fights off to urge to say that you actually don't have to talk to sasha first and you could just get on the first flight to san diego instead of wasting your time on some blonde chick who doesn't even know you; well, doesn't know you like how jessie knows you.
she wasn't even your girlfriend, just some date. hardly that, more like a project partner.
you can hear the irritation in her voice easily, again, jessie couldn't hide her emotions around you to save her life but you don't address it. reminding yourself to talk to her about it when you come down to san diego for the game.
soon enough the conversation moves away from anything sasha related with you not wanting to annoy jessie any further. she rambles to you about this show she's been watching throughout camp and how when she went to the beach she got thrown in the water and also how she saw this shop that she thinks you would like and so much more. that short time period where it felt like you two hardly talked really took it's toll on her, who else could she talk to about anything and everything? no one else. that period of time took it's toll on you too. you didn't realize how much you missed jessie until you talked to her for hours.
that night she refused to let you hang up, not that you were going to. asking (pouting at you) for you to fall asleep on facetime with her. you obviously agreed; falling asleep first. once you fully fell asleep, jessie took a few facetime photos. putting them in her folder in her gallery that she has for you. eventually she drifts off to sleep too. sasha long forgotten.
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in the morning you're the one who hangs up first at the dismay of jessie. the canadian player tried her hardest to get you to stay on the phone until she had to go training which was in two hours. unfortunately, you had a morning class and felt weird about staying on the phone while in a classroom of nearly hundred people.
"i'll be silent, c'mon," jessie pouts. her hair is an absolute mess, stray hairs flying everywhere out of her loosely tied ponytail. she's still so tired. you can tell by how she's trying to keep her eyes open; her tired voice makes you smile.
"no, jess, you c'mon. you are so noisy when you're getting ready," you say. jessie lets out a groan before shaking her head, "no i'm not. i think you confused yourself with me because that's all you."
"stop lying to yourself, freckles."
"whatever, whatever. go ahead and leave me here.. all alone.." you roll your eyes at jessie's dramatics. she groans again when even her dramatics don't work. you finally hang up after promising her that you would call her tonight. she texts you hardly a minute after you hanged up,
freckles 💗
you woke me up, left, and now i can't sleep 😐
you
that's not even my fault
blame ucla
freckles 💗
im not saying you should have skipped class for your long term bestfriend..
but im not saying you shouldn't have
you
did someone replace my bestfriend?
my jess always forced me to go to class so..
freckles 💗
👎👎👎
not replaced it's called upgraded
you send a few texts back before slipping your phone into your bag. it seems that jessie falls back to sleep as you don't feel no vibrations from your phone as you walk to your first class.
the day passes by slowly as you bounce from class to class. why did you pick this major again? you can't even remember at this point. jessie sent you a few photos of her eating breakfast earlier. those made you smile and feel a little less exhausted. if only she was here. the day continues on and eventually you reach the class where sasha is in.
you two haven't talked since she asked you out yesterday. you were busy talking to jessie and you guess sasha had other things to do as well. now she's sitting next to you in class. sasha's playing with your fingers while telling you about how she struggled to cook dinner last night. you make a few jokes about how she could probably burn water if she had the chance which makes her give you a playful push to the shoulder.
"uh, sash. can i call you that?" you ask softly, unsure about giving her a nickname. sasha smiles, "of course you can. it's better than blondie, you know."
"who calls you that?"
"idiots who don't know me," she gives you a cheeky smile before shrugging, "but you do know me so don't call me blondie. alright?"
you give her a nod while smiling. the woman has a good sense of humor, you won't deny it. not like jessie's but funny. you mentally scold yourself for comparing the two; they are two different people, obviously they won't act the same.
"alright. anyways, i have something to ask you," your eyes glance over to the door of the classroom where your professor now comes though, "after though. our professor finally decided to show up." sasha giggles at your jab before nodding, pulling away from touching your hand.
the lecture lasts for nearly three hours. with the professor at the end reminding everyone to turn in their projects next week. good thing you and sasha finished that huge hunk of work earlier in the week; you didn't feel like stressing about that while down in san diego. sasha holds onto your arm as you two walk out of class then towards her dorm. "i didn't know rather your question was something important, so i wanted to give us some privacy. you know," sasha smiles as she lets your arm go.
"yeah, i get it," you walk into the vaguely familiar space after she unlocks the door. dropping your bag onto the floor next to her bed before sitting on it. you watch sasha slip her shoes off before joining you on the bed; shoulder to shoulder. for some reason you shift away, not out of rudeness. you just didn't want to be that close right now. if sasha cared she didn't say anything.
"okay, so, do you know about the usa vs canada friendly that's happening in san diego over the weekend, right?" you say, remembering how sasha and you talked about soccer sometime ago.
"yeah. what about it?"
"you know my bestfriend, jessie?" you don't notice how sasha purses her lips hearing you say jessie's name, you continue, "she plays for canada and i always go to her games. i been missing her and her entire team, so i planned to go to the game this weekend and forgot to tell you. i don't regret saying yes to the date, but i was thinking.. instead of going on the date you could come with me to the game? it would be so fun, i swear!"
sasha was feeling conflicted at first. she wanted to spend time one on one with you, so you two could possibly further this relationship between you but having the opportunity to go to an international friendly wasn't usually given to her. "yeah! okay, let's go. i been wanting to see the usa play for so long anyways," she gives you one of her usual bright smiles. seeing that smile calms your nerves. now you just had to tell jessie.
you spend almost ten minutes in sasha's dorm. just playing around and talking before you notice how it's starting to get late. sasha walks you all the way out of her dorm building, telling you to sleep well as you leave. you give her a smile before continuing to walk away.
the moment you get into jessie and yours dorm, you text her.
you
i asked sash if she wanted to come to the game
she said yes
can you get her a ticket pleasee. all the good ones sold out
freckles 💗
who is sash??
you
sasha..??
jessie just came back from training, already having taken her after practice shower and changed into some sweatpants and a hoodie. she wanted to be ready to facetime all night, no interruptions. she wasn't expecting you to text her about sasha; at least not like that. after last night, jessie almost prayed for you to text her the next day that you were coming alone. she didn't expect you to text that you invited sasha to her game. and now you're giving this blonde chick nicknames? all jessie can do is roll her eyes. she fights the urge to lie and say that she couldn't get any tickets; that the game is fully sold out, but she knows you would catch that lie easily. while jessie's thinking about it, her phone vibrates with another text from you.
you
im going to get in the shower
text me yes or no
if yes send the ticket 🙏 ur a lifesaver if yes
your text makes jessie sigh. she doesn't want to disappoint you even if it kills her. around ten minutes after you sent that text, she starts to ask around if she could get a ticket for the game. claiming it was for "a friend" she cringed saying that, but regardless. it wasn't hard to get a ticket, she is a player after all.
you get out of the shower an hour later. you're drying your hair as you move over to your bed to grab your phone; noticing a text from jessie. you smile as you read,
freckles 💗
i got one
*photo attachment sent*
you can give it to her when she comes down with you i guess
i'll just give it to you
you click on the photo, zooming in to see what seat sasha will be sitting at. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you realize the seat on her ticket is on the other side of the stadium, away from you.
you
bro jess
that ticket isn't even near me 😭
freckles 💗
you didn't say anything about wanting the ticket to be near you
be clearer next time what 👎👎
you
be so serious..
jessie facetimes you and obviously you answer. now sitting down on your bed, your phone propped up against a plushie near your pillow. you sitting slightly to the side, trying to braid your hair. once jessie phone connects, she's pouting, "i can't see your face."
"yes you can, jess," you giggle. jessie pouts gets worse, "hardly.."
"you're such a baby," you look at the screen to see jessie resting her face against one of the hotel bed pillows, her hair a little messy and out of a ponytail. the sight makes you giggle again; how she's looking is just proving your point. jessie is a baby.
"i'm not a baby. just miss you..wanna see you," she says softly. being away from you without talking much was already tiring her out. she wasn't used to it, if you two could be on the phone all day she would. the second you step foot into san diego, you aren't getting rid of her. irritation bothers her mind again as jessie remembers that you invited that blonde to come see the game. she smiles when you say, "miss you more. i feel so bad. it's my fault we haven't been talking and seeing eachother as much."
"blame ucla, isn't that what you said earlier?" jessie jokes, "no but seriously, it's not your fault. you're just so hardworking. it's admirable"
"i know jessie fleming isn't calling someone else hardworking," you joke back. trying to hide how jessie's compliment makes you smile so hard; it's her favorite thing to tease you about. she was addicted to complimenting you it seemed. the canadian always had something good to say about you, it's a habit she gained back when you two became friends in elementary.
she scoffs, "i swear you work harder than me." right after saying that she yawns. you don't even try to argue with her. knowing how stubborn jessie can be sometimes. you yawn too, the day was tiring enough and seeing jessie makes you even sleepier. you read somewhere about how people get all sleepy around others who make them feel safe? yeah, that's what's going on here. too bad you weren't in her arms right now, instead talking to a screen. you get up out of bed, going out of the frame to go cut off the light before coming back to lay on your bed. shifting to be in a similar position as jessie.
"god, now you're copying me? you're obsessed," she jokes, making you roll your eyes. "be so serious with yourself. you are the one always wearing my clothes."
"alright. i can't argue against that," jessie yawns again. you decide this is the best time to talk about the ticket situation before jessie ends up dozing off like she always does. you shift again, pressing your face against your pillow as you pull up the cover; making your lips slightly pouty. jessie smiles seeing you all pouty and sleepy. she couldn't wait to see you in person. too bad that smile doesn't last long as you say, "why would you get sash seats so far away from me? that woman is going to be so lost."
the canadian scoffs, not wanting to talk about this right now or talk about sasha in general, ever. she curses how kind you are; why can't you just not care about this blonde girl? like you don't even know her truly. "that's the ticket they gave me when i asked. don't blame me, all the seats around you were sold out," she pushes away your concern nonchalantly.
"and since when was blondie, sash?" she asks. it's your turn to scoff, remembering how sasha said only people who don't know her called her blondie, you say, "since today. and why do you call her blondie?"
"because i don't know her name."
"you literally called her sasha the other night."
"not my fault that it's forgettable. it's not like she's my friend," jessie says, not adding in how sasha isn't your friend either. you stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her childishness. it was funny and adorable, but slightly annoying.
"ugh, alright, freckles. i'll drop it before i annoy you to death," you roll your eyes once jessie smiles. she thanks you before the conversation falls into talking about how she failed a push-up contest earlier.
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you and sasha fly out to san diego the day of the match. unfortunately college made it a little hard to come out earlier than saturday with you having an exam on thursday, but still you two make it.
checking into the same hotel as the canada national team at around six, an hour before the game. getting from the airport to the hotel was easy but the traffic was not fun. at least it wasn't as bad as la traffic, but still horrible.
you're standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of your shared hotel room with sasha. you texted jessie earlier before you boarded the plane that you would be there with her text back a quick okay since she was busy preparing for the game. there wasn't a need to text her that you were here, it's not like she would be able to answer it.
"wow, you betrayed me. canada really?" sasha playfully says as she walks into the bathroom. wearing a usa jersey that has s.mewis on the back while you're wearing your usual fleming canada jersey. you smile as you tease back, "i'm canadian. what did you expect? you betrayed me actually. really, usa?"
sasha shrugs, leaning against the bathroom counter, "gotta support the fellow tall blonde. sammy is a total beast." you just smile and don't argue back. what could say? sam mewis is a force on the pitch. it's been years since you played and even you knew that.
you finish getting ready after almost fifteen minutes. with sasha coming in and out of the bathroom while explaining that she actually really enjoyed the usa when they played, but is just a casual fan. you two leave out of the hotel room with just enough time to grab a drink before going to the stadium.
"sorry that your ticket is like so far from me. jessie couldn't get one closer," you say to sasha as you sit beside her in y'all's uber. the blonde woman takes it well, just saying that she will catch you after the game. you explain to her that you two are going to go down on the pitch after, so she shouldn't leave and go back to the hotel.
"forgot your bestie was a bigshot," she says when you two reach the stadium. shutting the car door after you get out of the backseat. "yeah. freckles is just that good," you smile, pulling sasha along to one of the entrances. once you two go inside, y'all split up. sasha joking that she'll see you on the other side which makes you laugh.
when you reach your seat, you get comfortable. sipping on your strawberry drink as you wait for the match to get started. the stadium has a nice amount of fans, with you even noticing that some seats around you are empty. shaking your head as you think about jessie's excuse last night; all the seats around you were sold out? as if. speaking of jessie, you spot her on the pitch. she waves once you two's eyes meet. quinn, who's beside her, waves as well. giving you a heart gesture that you return.
soon enough the game starts. it's fast and intense with players on both sides being aggressive in their own right. jessie even scores a goal for canada which makes you scream. she gives you a smug smile when she passes by where you are in the stands, making you roll your eyes. the match continues on with you screaming a bit more everytime things got too intense. the score line ends up being seven to six; the usa scoring a last minute goal to secure the win. your eyes look at the usa players fall into a group hug before looking around the pitch at the canadian players who obviously didn't look as overjoyed.
fans start to leave the stadium after some of the players walked around to interact. jessie is still far off somewhere on the pitch while you get out of your seat and walk over to the stairs of your part of the stands. leaning against the railing, trying to look around if you can see a certain tall blonde in the rapidly emptying stadium. you don't notice when she comes up to you. she playfully pushes your arm as she says, "told you the usa would win."
"yeah, whatever. canada is going to get y'all back next time," you tease back. you two stand near the bottom of the stairs, right where the pitch meets the tunnel. it takes a bit but jessie starts to make her way over to you. a bright smile on her lips. you can tell how excited the freckled woman is by her fast walking, making you giggle. when she gets close enough you walk onto the pitch to meet her. pulling her into a hug, your arms wrapping around her neck. sasha walks onto the pitch behind you but stays a few steps back.
"god, missed you," jessie's words come out half muffled as she nuzzles her face into your neck. her hands holding onto your waist. you sway a little, saying, "missed you more." soon jessie pulls her face out of your neck, still hugging you as she rests her head onto your shoulder. sasha and her eyes meet; jessie's hands moving lower onto your lower back, rubbing at the skin there with one of her hands going underneath the fabric of the fleming jersey you have on. the other resting on top of it.
"ew, your hand is all sweaty.." you mumble against her ear. jessie just chuckles, partially at your small disgust and partially at how sasha's eyes glance from where jessie's hands are on your body then back to meeting the canadian's eyes. the soccer player gives sasha a smug smile right before you pull away from the hug. you don't stray too far though, interlocking your hand with jessie's afterwards.
you pull jessie closer to sasha. smiling as you say, "sorry sash. we haven't seen each other in a while, so i got distracted." sasha nods, a small smile on her lips that don't really meet her eyes. she's about to speak when jessie cuts her off, "yeah, sorry.. savannah..? we just get carried away sometimes. i just been missing my bestfriend so much." you gently smack jessie's arm which makes her let out a soft ow. she looks at you and you look back.
while you and jessie are looking at each other, having a silent conversation with just eyes alone, sasha is looking at how you two's hands are interlocked. the way your thumb is rubbing on one of jessie's fingers; the way jessie gives your hand a light squeeze. her eyes look back up when jessie speaks, "sorry for forgetting your name. with the game and all, i'm just so tired."
"oh no, it's fine. we haven't even met really so i get it," sasha says. you let out a sigh of relief. just thankful sasha didn't take any offense; being rude to the only person in your entire lecture who actually talks to you would not be a good outcome. the conversation soon falls away into something else, with everyone wanting to move away from the awkward interaction.
eventually it's time to head to the bus to get back to the hotel. jessie doesn't let go of your hand once as she walks with you to the bus. sasha trailing behind. jessie stops next to the bus, glancing at sasha before saying to you, "are you going to come on the bus with me? everyone wants to see you and we were going to stop by this donut shop nearby that i know you'll like, i don't know where we're going to park such a huge bus, but we'll make it work i guess?"
you let out a giggle at her last sentence before considering jessie's question for a moment. stopping yourself from saying yes right away; jessie and donuts? you wanted to say yes badly, but then you looked behind you to see sasha and remembered that you didn't come to san diego alone.
"can't, jess. i don't want to let sasha take an uber alone. it's evening time," you explain. the blonde woman smiles hearing how you are so considerate. jessie wants to pull that smile off her face; what is she even smiling for? it wasn't some over romantic gesture. you're just a nice person. that's why blondie is here anyways because you want to be nice to people who frankly don't even hold value to you. jessie pushes away her annoyance, just saying, "okay. better come to my hotel room the moment i get to there, you have to get your donut." you smile and nod, pulling jessie into a hug before letting her go onto the bus.
sasha and you walk back to one of the entrances of the stadium. waiting for around five minutes for an uber, you hold the door open for sasha to let her in first and then you get in after.
the ride back to the hotel is awkward, but alright. you wanted to apologize for basically leaving sasha out the moment jessie appeared, but you thought that bringing it up would make everything else worse. while in the uber, sasha asks you a question, "there's this pizza place near the hotel that i been wanting to go to. never had the chance, college and all but i was wondering if you wanted to go. like tonight."
"tonight?" you look at sasha, seeing a hopeful look in her eyes. that look sealed your fate the moment you saw it; you been blowing her off all day, she deserves this one thing, right?
"yeah, sure."
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you two reach the hotel before the canadian national team bus does. after going to y'all's hotel room and changing out of your match outfits. you slip into one of jessie's t-shirts and some jeans. while sasha is changing in the bathroom into a yellow sundress. while you're sitting on your bed, waiting for sasha, you get a text from jessie that the team is back at the hotel.
"i'm going to go see jessie! she's here! i'll be back soon though, i swear," you shout out towards the bathroom before leaving out of the hotel room quickly. not even catching sasha's response. you find jessie's room, the freckled woman standing there next to her door. she must have put her bag inside of her room because it wasn't anywhere near her. she's holding two donuts, smiling when she sees you walking towards her, "gotchu your favorite. had to fight off ashley for it."
"you could've let her take it. we could have shared," you take your donut, taking a small bite. you enjoy it for a moment before remembering you have come here on a mission. "okay, jessie, listen.." by your tone jessie can already tell you're about to say something she wasn't going to like.
"sasha asked to go to this pizza shop that she's been wanting to go to for so long and i have been ignoring basically all day and i feel so bad, so i'm going to go with her but once i get back, i'm sleeping in your hotel room," you say. jessie lets out a soft groan at hearing that you were going to technically blow her off for blondie. that tall chick couldn't have to want to go to that place that bad. she does smile hearing you say that you'll come sleep in her room after, but still, she wanted you for the whole night. not as some afterthought.
jessie shakes her head before saying, "i don't wanna impose but can i come along? you know i'm always hungry after games." that sentence wasn't even a lie she made up to join in on your little pizza date. you knew how hungry jessie got after every game especially if she was a starter.
"your appetite can never be squashed. whatever, c'mon," you laugh, pulling on her arm to bring her along with you down the hall.
"i haven't even eaten my donut yet and neither have you!"
"we'll snack on the way to the room!"
"what about my clothes? i have to change, i don't even have my hoodie on anymore."
"god jessie, you steal my clothes any other time. just borrow again."
you two bicker like usual all the way on the walk to the hotel room. the donuts are half gone by the time you two reach it. "so is sasha like in the room on the left or right of yours?" jessie asks. you give her a look, about to tell her that actually sasha and you got a joint room, but you don't even have to as sasha opens the door.
jessie stares blankly from sasha to you to sasha to you and finally landing her glance on you.
"what..?" jessie doesn't even hide the irritation in her voice, this was really starting to piss her off now.
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author notes: woww another cliffhanger 😱😱 i hope y'all liked it because i enjoyed writing it, tell me your thoughts about it too 💔💔 all the engagement was fun last time
© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN
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dreamauri · 16 hours
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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”
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“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed. 
“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!” 
Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk. 
“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way. 
“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”
The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.
“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!” 
“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.
He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.
Just two people . . . being people.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.” 
It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.
You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.
Surely people make close friends online all the time. 
You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.
“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were. 
Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . .  not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.
“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”
“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,” 
“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone. 
“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!” 
“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.
Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt. 
Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend? 
“You do know what my job is, right, La?”
“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is. 
Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Hey um, million?” 
“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own. 
“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out. 
“Yeah?”
 “Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,” 
The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!” 
“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.
“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you. 
“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.
Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.
“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest. 
“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.
He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.
It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’
“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.
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proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3
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privitivium · 10 hours
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ok but how about a dom reader whos always busy (workaholic and shi) x an always clingy n touchy sub yan.
like. reader is never at home. and when he finally come back ends up doesn't paying that much attention to yan, sayin 'im too tired' or going to his home office. eventually being followed by yan cause omfg poor boy is basically starving for a little bit of attention. he still declines yan's pleadings tho
then one day this man shows up earlier and completely EAGER for his yan. idk what more can i say. breeding? degradation? daddy kink? dumbification? what could happen when theyre feeling so fucking needy for each other?
(also i love your writing so so much!!!!!!! <3
workaholic male reader, clingy sub yandere ^ rambles. euugh
dumbification works w either imo, reader fucking lover til hes stupid while simultaneously fucking his lover stupid?!
amab//domtop reader/subbot yandere, cw;; breeding, daddy kink, dumbification xd wanna rework this into a more ,,, eloquent fic. soon. have been busy. i really liked this idea so. will do on my own soon.
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workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!
all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ
"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...
there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.” expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,
you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.
your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!
and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,
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sjyluv · 1 day
Text
in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you
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genres! fluff?, angst, celebrity x celebrity, ex-lovers
word count! 1380
warnings! mention of breakup, heartbreak
synopsis! in another life, you and park sunghoon are lovers, just not in this one
mimi’s note! this fic was inspired by a quote from the movie ‘everything everywhere all at once’ also I'm not very good at writing angst because I hate it but I did my best
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“Congrats, big shot,” a familiar voice says from behind you, and you can hear the teasing smile in his tone, “actress of the year award, you're in the big leagues now.”
You turn around to face Park Sunghoon, a renowned figure skater and your ex-boyfriend. You haven't seen each other in almost a year but the sight of him still has the same effect on you it did all those years ago.
He's hauntingly beautiful and you're a house of horrors.
You offer a polite smile, but it's bittersweet as if you were greeting death itself.
“Congratulations to you too, you're becoming a bit of an A-list yourself since you won the Olympics.” you quip, and you both know what kind of game you're going to play tonight.
It’s the same one you always play, the one where he pretends you didn’t break his heart and you pretend everything is fine.
Sunghoon smiles at you too, like you're everything he's ever had and everything he's ever lost.
“Maybe we should exchange autographs like middle schoolers trade Pokémon cards,” he says, and you both chuckle.
“Hmm, I have a feeling mines will be more valuable.”
He playfully puts a hand over his heart. “That’s hurtful, y/n, but I can’t deny that it’s also true.”
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The gala was still roaring with life when you stepped out for some fresh air, you sat on concrete stairs, not caring if you got your 20,000-dollar dress dirty. You couldn't care about a lot of things lately.
You and Sunghoon had long parted ways, the conversation only lasted about five minutes before you were seated at your respective tables, you didn't see him again after that.
You’ve gotten everything you ever dreamed of at this point in your career, and you accomplished all your goals, in the beginning, it all seemed so impossible, but now that you're here and you've done it, you’re not so sure what's left anymore.
The sound of the door opening catches your attention, a tall, pale figure steps out, dressed in a purely black suit, and you recognize him instantly.
“Following me?” you prop your chin in your palm as your elbow rests on your knee, carrying the weight of your head as you tilt it playfully.
He’s not startled by the suddenness of your voice, which tells you, yes, he was looking for you.
He smiled. “Maybe.”
He sat next to you on the stairs, not caring if his 5,000-dollar suit got dirty, though it wasn't actually because he didn't care about the suit, but because he just wanted to be close to you.
You're both silent for a while, simply appreciating being in each other's presence after so long.
Or maybe it's because you don't know what to say and he has too much to say, so you settle for the piercing silence of unsaid words.
Sunghoon has been silent his whole life, but he promised himself tonight he wouldn't be.
“Was it worth it?”
Ah. There it is.
You think as the corners of your lips curl upward, you knew this question was coming, you sensed it the moment you saw him again.
If he had asked you that a year ago you would’ve said yes, no hesitation, no second thoughts, just a straight-up yes, and you would have meant it too.
Suddenly the silk fabric of your dress starts to itch your skin, your diamond embroidered heels start to hurt your feet, and your pearl jewelry feels too heavy.
In only a single minute, Park Sunghoon has stripped you of your persona, called you out for the fraud you are, and seen the real you.
And he accepted you.
You lie to save your pride, it's a habit of yours that he knows all too well.
He doesn't think you're perfect, but you would never have to be for him to love you.
“Sometimes,” you say.
You don't bother lying, he’ll know.
You had always been a good liar until Sunghoon came into your life.
He gently nods in understanding at your response, “Do you ever think about it? About us?”
With a chuckle, you reply, “Of course I do.”
It's true that sometimes leaving him is worth the life you're living now, but there are fragments of times when you imagine what your life could've been with him.
In another life, you never left Sunghoon, you got married, bought a home together, adopted a dog, and had a child.
On the surface that sounds nice, but in another life, you are a housewife with broken dreams, you bought a home together but it wasn't the one you always dreamed of because you had to compromise with Sunghoon, you adopted a dog but you were never really an animal person, and you had a child but motherhood was never for you.
In another life, you are happy to be a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought your dream home together, you adopted a dog that you both love, you had a child and you are the most loving mother.
In another life, you are not a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought a home even better than your dream home, you adopted a dog but you're more of a cat person, and you never had a child but you always wanted to be a mother.
In another life, you and Sunghoon work from home, you bought a decent home together, and although it's not your dream one, it's good enough, you adopted a cat, and you never had a child but because that's the way you liked things.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are divorced, the home you bought together is just walls and a roof with painful memories, you don't adopt any pets, and you never had a child.
In another life, Sunghoon is a househusband, you don't care about having a dream home because any place is home with him, you adopted a dog and a cat, and you had a child who has everything they could ever want.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are teenagers again falling in love for the very first time, and you have no idea what the future holds for you.
In another life, you and Sunghoon are just a little bit younger than you are now, in the kitchen of your shared apartment, and you are trying to figure out how to do laundry so all your clothes don’t turn blue again and how to properly calculate your taxes so you don’t go to prison for tax fraud.
In another life, you and Sunghoon have grown old together, and you are experts at doing laundry and taxes.
In another life, you are the bottles of salt and pepper on the table of a random diner and things are entirely less complicated.
In another life, you never meet Park Sunghoon.
The possibilities are endless, and the truth is, you never know what will happen in your life, and that's scary, but you hope in another life you learn to accept the bad just as easily as you accept the good.
“What does it look like?” he asks.
“Laundry and taxes,” you shrug.
You both laugh at that.
“What about you?” you ask.
“Taxes and laundry,” he smiles.
You both laugh again.
The party inside is completely forgotten about as you and Sunghoon spend what feels like hours just sitting and talking, until the realization that it’s time to go home dawns on you.
Sunghoon gets up first, holding his hand out for you to take, and you do, but when he helps you to your feet he doesn't let go just yet, instead, he looks into your eyes and you feel his thumb caress your knuckles.
“It was nice to see you again, y/n.”
“It was good to see you again too, Sunghoon.”
He finally lets you go and you already miss his warmth.
He almost walks away but turns to face you one last time.
With a hint of a smile on his lips, he says, “You know, in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”
And then Park Sunghoon walks out of your life forever, and you let him.
In another life, things didn't end that way.
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© 2024 sjyluv, all rights reserved | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
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koinotame · 2 days
Text
quick apology fic to xiao for missing his bday </3 which doubles as a character study of xiao and an exploration of how you as the player interact with the self aware characters in self aware au
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it’s been a couple of weeks since you last used him.
or has it only been several days? whether it’s days or years, it all feels like the blink of an eye to him. the flow of time is somewhat of a nebulous concept for someone like him, especially since you first appeared.
it doesn’t matter. however long you take to come back, xiao will wait dutifully for you.
he spends most of his time when you’re not making use of him subjugating threats around liyue and fighting off any unwanted foes. perhaps you’ll come back faster if the area is freer of enemies. you’re kind, after all. you seem much happier when it’s peaceful.
lately, when there’s no demons for him to quell, he’s found himself returning to the same spot on wangshu inn’s upper balcony. it’s the spot you always drop him off at before disappearing. it’s not the place at the top of the inn’s roof he’d pick on his own, though you do sometimes take him up there as well.
you’re not actually there, but if he closes his eyes it almost feels like you are.
his birthday was a couple days ago. as usual, the traveller had suggested he write you a letter. as usual, he wasn’t sure what he could possibly convey to you that you would be happy to receive.
the traveller insisted anything from him would make you happy, but xiao doubts that.
it’s easier when you’re here. it’s easier when you’re here and he can submit himself entirely to you and doesn’t have to think for himself.
he’s been dreaming more lately, particularly of you. he doesn’t know what you look like, and after he wakes up he can never quite remember what you looked like in his dreams.
waking up after dreaming of you is always hard for xiao. it’s shameful how badly he wants to go back to dreaming of doing such mundane things with you, and it’s disgraceful how long it takes him to pick himself back up afterwards.
he wonders if you’d like doing dull things like that with someone like him.
he wonders if he deserves that.
probably not.
he left the letter at the railing of that same—your—spot, along with a serving of his almond tofu (he might not like dreaming, but he hopes your dreams are as sweet as his have been lately), some dream solvent (the traveller had mentioned you seemed to want more) and a small bundle of qixing (you frequently go out of your way to collect it).
you never touch it.
…after a couple days, he decided to move the offering to his room. it stays there, on his windowsill where the sun touches it in a way that reminds him of your warmth, untouched.
it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. he’ll wait for you for as long as you want. even if another thousand years pass before you appear again, he’ll continue his duty and wait.
and then he blinks and suddenly finds himself in front of the adventurer’s guild in the court of fontaine.
another blink and he’s back at wangshu inn, this time heading towards the kitchen. the familiar aura of your possession fills him with a warmth he doesn’t think exists outside of you. he zones out for what feels no longer than a couple seconds, and suddenly there’s thirty servings of almond tofu in front of him.
your mood drops.
dissatisfaction seeps through you and into him. something deep in his gut squirms.
you set a large amount of sweet flowers to boil, then seem to fuss with something he can’t quite see or grasp. smiley yanxiao gives him a curious look, but doesn’t (cannot) comment any further.
in another couple of seconds—your teleportation hardly fazed him when you first started using him, let alone now when he’s so used to your presence—he’s in front of the liyuean general goods store. you buy up the entire stock of milk, and only milk.
your mood hasn’t improved. if anything, you seem even more downcast.
the milk dissipates as soon as it’s been bought, safely held in your near infinite storage.
he’s behind mondstadt’s hotel next, jumping down the railing and towards the local general goods store. again, you buy up all the milk. next you head for the good hunter (is that what it’s called? he thinks that’s what the traveller called it some time ago) and purchase as much of their sugar as you can.
tendrils of something truly unpleasant move upwards and wrap around his neck.
he finds himself in wangshu inn’s kitchen again. barely any of the sweet flowers have been processed, but you take the two packs of sugar anyway. you put him to work immediately.
usually, he finds the process of cooking much to tedious and drawn out. with you, he doesn’t mind.
you seem a bit more satisfied this time, and xiao finds himself ashamed of having made a few more of his specialty dish instead of only regular almond tofu like you’d wanted him to.
while you seem a bit happier now, he still finds himself in front of inazuma’s goods store. again, you buy all the milk. you talk to the restaurant owner up the stairs afterwards. some confusion creeps into him through you, but it doesn’t last long.
he’s in sumeru next. more milk makes its way into your inventory, and you visit the local tavern for good measure, though this time you don’t buy anything at all.
exiting the building, you seem to notice there’s a stove just outside of it and walk over in excitement… and straight into the clay oven.
a sharp pang of panic shoots through him and he jerks backwards. it takes him a second to realise it’s your panic.
immediately, you pull the astrologer from mondstadt out and have her set down her little hydro puppet. you then walk him through it, which does absolutely nothing except soak his clothes.
your panic doesn’t subside.
i’m sorry.
he blinks and finds himself in front of dihua marsh’s statue of the seven, the fire and the tinge it brought with it disappearing in seconds.
it’s rare to be able to make out what you’re actually saying as opposed to just feeling your vague emotions and intentions. are you that worried about him not performing up to standard with this little damage?
he’s yours to use. a little singe like that would never hold him back.
you don’t bother with fontaine.
something like shame curls up his body and makes a home near his ears.
soon after, he’s back at the inn’s kitchen again. yanxiao doesn’t even look in his direction this time as he gets back to work under your guidance, making even more almond tofu. he makes sure to take greater care to avoid displeasing you again.
your mood doesn’t pick up this time, but you seem to have calmed down a little. he’s not sure why (or what use you could possibly have for so much almond tofu), but it’s a small comfort.
part of him wishes he could be there with you properly to comfort you, but he knows better.
he might be your formidable weapon, but that’s all he is. he has no false illusions about his role or purpose to you, no matter how much he wishes he could be the one you turn to for comfort. he isn’t suited to something so delicate. he’s accepted that a long time ago.
your dejection doesn’t retract, even as you move him around a bit more.
then you sit him down at a table at the inn’s terrace and pull out a plate of his specialty.
your presence lingers for a bit, envelops him like a gentle dream, then falls through the cracks of his existence and disappears.
happy birthday, xiao.
he wonders if he deserves this much effort from you for something as inconsequential as his birthday.
probably not.
he hopes he’ll dream of this next.
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cc--2224 · 3 days
Text
Asking For Help
Pairing: Platonic Tech & F!Reader
Summary: You decide to stay in bed to deal with the pain you're experiencing. The Batch notices and sends Tech to check on you.
Warnings: Reader kind of described as AFAB as fic deals with period pain. But other than that, pure fluff! It can 100% be platonic.
Word Count: 918
Notes: Does the Bad Batch understand anatomy? Probably. Was it more fun to make them panic? Absolutely. I mostly wrote this for me as I took the day off work for this exact reason 😂 no real proofreading.
Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!
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The Marauder's cockpit seemed weirdly empty without you, and everyone noticed your absence. You hadn't been with Clone Force 99 for very long, but when you spend all your time with the same people for four months, they start to worry when you're not being as social as you normally would.
"Where is she?" Hunter finally asked, looking at the empty seat you normally occupied.
Wrecker shrugged, "I tried calling her this morning for breakfast but she didn't leave her room."
"Is it not obvious?" Tech asked, eyes not leaving his datapad. "She exhibits this behaviour roughly around the same time each month."
He thought he was giving everyone the answer, but their confused faces told him that he wasn't.
"She is mostly likely menstruating."
"In Common, Tech." Wrecker said.
Crosshair rolled his eyes, "She's on her period. It's not the end of the world."
Eyes turned back to Tech for an explanation, and he sighed.
"Do none of you pay attention to the anatomy manuals? People who are biologically female go through this process nearly every month. Their body prepares itself for an egg to be fertilized, but when it is not, it begins to shed the excess in the form of blood and uterine lining. Typically resulting in side effects such as; mood swings, pelvic cramps, lower back pain, and headaches to name a few."
Wrecker looked shocked, "And they do this every month? That sounds painful."
Tech shrugged, "I couldn't say, from my understanding, each person reacts differently."
"Shouldn't we check on her? Make sure she's okay?" Hunter asked.
"She does it every month with or without us, I don't see how now is any different." Crosshair pointed out.
"Yeah but, we're her friends, we should help if we can."
Wrecker looked back to Tech, "You know the most about it, you go see if she's okay."
Expectant looks all pointed in Tech's direction and he shook his head. "Fine, I suppose I could inquire after her."
Truthfully, Tech was also concerned for you, even though he had a vague understanding of what was going on. He found your presence soothing, and the Marauder seemed more cheerful with you around. And it was his nature to want to solve any problems that arose, so he wanted the chance to do that now.
He got up from his seat and walked toward the refresher to look for a hot compress and some painkillers so that he might actually be of assistance before cautiously walking toward your room.
He knocked quietly.
"...Yeah?" You croaked from inside the room.
"It's Tech, may I come in?"
You didn't answer immediately but then after a few seconds you spoke, "Door's unlocked."
He pressed the button to open the door before stepping in and letting it close behind him. He frowned slightly when he was you curled up on your bunk with your arms around your stomach.
"I take it I was correct then, you are menstruating."
"Yeah." You replied a little too harshly. "Did you need something?"
"It appears your absence went quite noticed this morning and the others are worried about you."
"So they sent you to check on me?"
He adjusted his goggles, "Well, even though I had suspected what the issue was, I suppose I was also worried."
You didn't say anything, but you moved slowly, creating room for him to sit down on your bunk, he sat on the edge.
"I have brought you a compress and painkillers, if you are interested. I have heard they help to alleviate any cramping and pain associated with it." He handed both to you.
You smiled at his gesture and took the painkillers first. "Thank you," you swallowed two of them down with water from the canteen beside your bunk, then you took the heat compress and hugged it to your stomach.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked, looking down at you.
You looked at him then looked at your pillow and shook your head.
"Very well, I will check up on you later then." He announced before standing up and walking toward the door.
"Wait.." You called out. He turned to look at you. "Can you stay.. with me?"
His expression went from surprised to a gentle smile, and he nodded. "Of course."
He walked back over to your bunk and returned to his seat on the edge.
"Can we- er... Can you hold me?" You asked, so quietly that he thought he might have misheard you.
"You'd like me to hold you?" He repeated.
His need for clarification caused blood to rise to your face in embarrassment.
"If-if that's okay, actually, nevermind I-"
But before you could finish your rambling, Tech crawled into the bunk next to you, holding you so your back was firm against his chest.
You sighed into him and closed your eyes as he began drawing idle shapes on the skin of your shoulder.
"Thank you, Tech." You repeated.
"You are welcome, but your gratitude is unwarranted. We are your friends, we want to help you. Anytime you need us, you do not need to be afraid to ask for help, no matter what ails you.”
You smiled once more. With the heat both from the compress and Tech pressed against you and the painkillers beginning to kick in, you felt yourself finally begin to drift off to sleep. Despite his protests, you were truly grateful to have friends who cared about you, no matter what was going on.
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Text
the girl next door 2
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.   
Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.  
"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.  
"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.  
"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."  
"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.  
"So..."  
"Just go," she snips.  
You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.  
You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.  
You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.  
You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.  
"Dang it," you whisper.  
You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.   
"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"  
You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,   
that needs to be fixed too.  
You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.  
"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.
You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.   
"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.  
"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."  
You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."  
He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."  
You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.  
"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.  
You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.  
You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.  
"And your name? Neighbour?" 
You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out. 
“Is it just you over here?” He asks. 
You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy. 
“Oh, you got kids? A husband?” 
You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway. 
You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list. 
“Mom,” you say. 
“Ah, makes sense. You in school?” 
You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly. 
“Anyway...” he says. 
You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that. 
“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there. 
You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent. 
“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.” 
You huff and push the mower over. 
“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house. 
“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes. 
You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.” 
“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says. 
You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away. 
The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner. 
“You figure it out?” She asks. 
“No,” you flop onto the couch. 
“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.” 
“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.” 
“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers. 
You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is. 
🏠
Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind. 
As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil. 
You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’. 
You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you. 
You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair. 
“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat. 
“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.” 
“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.” 
“Oh, uh, okay.” 
You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 
She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin. 
“Hello?” She sweetens her tone. 
“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.” 
“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.” 
“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.” 
His smile is just as charming as his introduction. 
“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?” 
“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.” 
You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.  
“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.” 
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honeyed-hedonist · 3 days
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Pairings: Aged Up!Damian Wayne x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Summary: You're always just a phone call away for Damian, so he calls when he needs you. And tonight? He really fucking needs you. Warnings: SMUT--MINORS DNI. unprotected sex, creampie, degradation, size kink if you squint, face slapping (once), oral (male & female receiving), orgasm control (kind of???), basically just 3k words of Dami tearing you apart in the best way. A/N: Hello again! Posting another old fic on mine. I still blame @heli0s-writes for sending me on a Damian Wayne spiral. I will never recover from this and it's all her fault. Enjoy :3
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It’s late. It’s always late when he calls you—3am and you’re answering the phone, the pitch of his voice deepened and gruff with need. A need that only you can satiate. “Come over, darling.” You’re out the door before you end the call, hailing a cab to the manor, pulse racing because you know what’s coming.
The path you walk when you reach the gate is so familiar, you could do it with your eyes closed, feet carrying you to the front door. There’s no need to knock or ring the bell, the second your shoes hit the porch Damian swings it wide open, the cowl stripped off, blackened liner still smeared around those beautiful green eyes. He’s looking at you like he wants to tear you apart, but you’ve always had an affinity for pretty, dangerous things. 
A step closer and you catch the way the warm light of the entryway bounces off of the thin gold chain hanging around his neck. It sparkles, and your mind conjures up the image of it swinging above your face when you’re folded in half on his bed. It makes you clench, taking another step while your eyes make the slow trek downward, his bare chest and rippling stomach that cuts to narrow, defined hips has your mouth watering. You know what they feel like against your tongue, beneath your fingers.
There’s no need for words, his calloused hand closing around your wrist to tug you inside, the heavy door shutting with a definitive click that reverberates off the walls and arched ceilings of Wayne Manor. He’s already hard, you can feel it when his arm snakes its way around your waist to pull you even closer. And then he’s crouching down, sweeping his other hand behind your knees to lift you into his arms.
You’re trapped in the heat of his gaze, the salty, earthy smell of his skin--still damp with sweat from his night spent in triple-weave kevlar. Fingers dance up the back of his neck, tangling into that silky, black hair, and his chest vibrates with something akin to a growl. It sends your pulse rushing between your legs, desire warm and heavy in your belly as he walks you up the stairs towards the master suite. 
The second you’re past the threshold, you reach for his face, wanting to feel his hot mouth on yours, but he doesn’t budge, the corner of his lips quirking in an amused smile at the whine that comes tumbling out of your throat when you try, and fail, to kiss him. “Patience, beloved.” Damian is gentle when he sets you down on the lush, thickly weaved rug that spreads out from beneath his bed, forefinger and thumb coming up to pinch your chin. His nose brushes yours when he speaks again, breath hot and sweet as it fans out across your face. “Be good.”
You watch with baited breath as he settles himself on the edge of the mattress, thighs spread open, palms flat against his knees, his posture perfectly straight. He looks like a king on his throne, and you’re prepared to bow at his feet. “You’re very overdressed, don’t you agree? Perhaps you should remedy that.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument, your hands falling to the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it hastily over your head. Your shorts are your next target, swiftly yanking them down your legs. Shoes, socks, and bra all join the pile of your discarded clothes after that, and Damian hums his approval. “Much better.” 
Lifting one of his hands, he points to the space between his feet. “Come.” There’s no hesitation from you, moving immediately with a step forward, but then he scoffs, eyebrows drawn down in admonishment. “Really, pet? Is that how you’re meant to approach me? As my equal?” His words make you short circuit, brain muddled with the fog of submission, because you will always submit to him--it’s not even a question at this point. He’s in charge, he owns you, and he knows it.
Dropping to your hands and knees, you crawl towards him slowly, eyes trained on his face, trying to read him--but Damian has mastered the art of impassiveness. His calves brush against your shoulders as you wedge yourself between his legs, the only sign of his pleasure is the tent in the front of his joggers and the rumbling in his chest. It’s enough--has you salivating from your place on the floor, eagerly awaiting instruction.
He leans forward, strong hand circling your throat, fingers tightening until he can feel the ripple of your swallow. “Have you missed me?” He asks, but you know better than to open your mouth, choosing instead to nod your head. Damian hums thoughtfully, free hand stroking at his slightly stubbled chin. “Hmm, I’m not sure I’m convinced. Why don’t you show me?”
“Yes, sir.” You answer, and he relents, releasing your throat to lean back on the bed, propped up with his arms extended so he can watch you--he’s always watching you--calculating, observing, learning. Damian Wayne knows all of the ways to take you apart, and all of the ways to put you back together again, but now he’s testing you, wants to see just how much you’ve learned since you began spending nights in his bed.
Shaking fingers dip beneath the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his thighs until the heavy weight of his cock springs free, slapping against the hard plane of his stomach with a dense thud. You moan, how can you not? He’s impressively large, perfectly curved towards his bellybutton, nestled in coarse, dark hair, thick and throbbing just for you. His head is shining with pre, glistening in the orange glow from the roaring fire in the hearth nearby. Your eyes meet, faux innocence batting up at him from beneath your lashes. But Damian knows better, knows how filthy you are, and he’s losing his patience.
You let your hand circle the base, tongue dragging a hot, wet line beneath his length until your lips close around the tip, precum tangy against your tastebuds. You moan again, eyes rolling back. The musk of his night perusing the city is still fresh on his skin, and he always tastes so god damn good like this. Dirty. Natural. It spurs you onward, his tip popping into the back of your throat as you take him all the way down. He reaches out after that, fingers gentle against the skin of your neck, his cock seated so fully inside the wet heat of your mouth that he can feel himself beneath your esophagus when you swallow. It makes him grunt, satisfied with your efforts.
It’s all the encouragement you need to move again, cheeks hollowed as you suck him off. The only sounds in the room are your labored breaths and the nasty, wet squelch of your mouth on his cock. Damian’s eyes are blown black, watching you like a predator tracking its prey, hand shooting out to curl into the hair at the crown of your head and shove you down until your nose is pressing against his taut abdomen. He holds you there, testing your limits, keeping you still, voice strained with his pleasure when he speaks. “Swallow.” He commands, and you oblige, whimpering while your thighs shift in an attempt to alleviate the ache in your cunt. 
“What’s wrong, pet? Do you want to cum?” Damian smirks at the desperate look in your eyes before he answers his own question. “Too bad.” He mocks your arousal, knowing all you really want right now is for him to fuck a hole right through you, but he needed to feel your warm, wet mouth first.  And Damian will never apologize for having his needs met, because he always reciprocates in kind. Especially with you.
He volleys with you back and forth, letting you have control before ultimately usurping you to fuck your face. When he’s satisfied, your cheeks are hot, the remnants of the mascara that you carelessly forgot to wash off is smeared down your face, and your chin is covered in your own spit as he yanks you free from his cock by your hair. “Tch--look at you, such a mess.” Damian’s free hand breaks the string of spittle connecting your mouth to the tip of his dick and smears it across your face. He’s not gentle, and you don’t want him to be, moaning open-mouthed when his palm cracks across your cheek. “Get up.”
Your actions are instantaneous, done without pause or thought, rising to your feet with his hand still fisted in your hair. He stands, too, spinning you both around until your calves hit the mattress and he shoves you backwards. You fall gracelessly onto his comforter, and he gives you no reprieve, no chance to catch your breath before he’s peeling your thighs apart to inspect your slit. Your panties are an encumbrance, one that has him growling as his long, dextrous fingers tear the fabric clean off, ripping them away to toss on the floor. 
He wastes no time, hands framing your cunt to peel your lips apart, leaning forward, he takes a deep inhale, the tip of his nose bumping against your throbbing clit. It makes you jolt, body bowing off of the bed, but his eyes cut to yours and you still immediately, knowing that he’ll stop if you don’t behave. “You have the most beautiful cunt, and she’s all mine.” Damian hums, mostly to himself, pink tongue slipping out of his mouth to circle your clit slowly. Your hands fist his expensive bedding, knuckles bone-white as he begins to work you over with his mouth.
He’s an expert at many things--knows over a hundred ways to kill a man with his bare hands--and can get you to gush against his mouth in a matter of minutes. Damian plays your body like a fine-tuned instrument, hits all the right notes to make you see stars. He curls those long, rough fingers of his against the velvet walls of your pussy, free hand applying pressure at your belly, while his plump lips suction against your pulsing clit. Barely two minutes in and you’re already hurtling towards bliss, whining and whimpering and writhing--all for him. 
“Dami, please!” You want your release. Want to cum all over his handsome face. He can feel it in the way your cunt grips his fingers, fluttering in time with the expert swipes of his tongue. He knows it’s only a few more licks until you’re careening into your orgasm. His eyes meet yours between the valley of your breasts, glittering with mirth as you cry out, begging shamelessly for him to let you cum. And then, like the menace he is, Damian releases your clit with a wet pop, effectively slamming you into a brick wall, your orgasm slipping right through your fingers with a pained cry.
Tears of desperation brim in your eyes and he tuts, rising to his feet, forearm wiping your glistening arousal from his lips and chin. “Do you have no shame? Begging like a common whore.” He’s on you in a flash, joggers discarded, fully naked as his hand once again finds your throat and he snarls above you. “Your orgasms belong to me, beloved. I decide when you deserve to cum, and tonight, you’ll be coming all over my cock. Do I make myself clear?” 
He expects an answer, but you’re transfixed, completely mystified by his overpowering, eclipsing presence above you. Damian makes you feel small. It fogs your brain, makes it hard to do anything other than mewl, thighs parting to accommodate his hips as he settles above you.  “Tch--useless little thing. All you’re good for is being my tight hole to fuck, isn’t that right, pet?” You nod, helpless and desperate beneath him, every nerve ending in your body thrumming like live wires. It’s a fact that he captializes on, slapping the mushroomed tip of his dick against your drenched slit, the wet sound that reaches his ears making him moan.
There isn’t a sound on Earth prettier than hearing Damian Wayne moan for you, your mouth falling open as you gaze up at him in awe. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to sluice the middle fingers of his left hand over your tongue. Ever the obedient pet, your lips close automatically, suckling as those same fingers push so far back they make you choke. Through your bleary eyes, you can see the sadistic smile that graces Damian’s face. It’s dangerous, and it sends a fresh rush of arousal leaking from your cunt. 
It’s almost like he can smell it, and he probably can, his irises disappearing until all that’s left are the whites of his eyes as he inhales deeply. There’s no warning, no preparation, just his gaze rolling back to meet yours when he snaps his hips forward with perfect aim, his cock stretching you open and filling you in a way only he can. It makes you scream, your back beginning to arch, but Damian is right there, pulling his fingers from your mouth to grip your throat and pin you back down against the mattress.
His pace is unforgiving. It’s brutal and deep, carving his way into your body with harsh thrusts that have the headboard knocking flecks of plaster off the walls until they cascade down like rain onto the comforter. “You. Belong. To me.” He spits it through gritted teeth, and it’s not something you’ll ever deny. Your relationship may be unconventional, but you wouldn’t trade it. Any time spent with Dami, to you, is a gift, especially if it means he’ll fuck you absolutely boneless in order to reassert his control on those nights when he feels like the world around him is spiraling. 
You take it all--every thrust, the gnashing of his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, the suffocating grip around your throat, the drizzle of spit that falls onto your waiting tongue when he pries your jaw open. Anything Damian dishes out, you take without complaint, because while he craves control, you crave subjugation--the metaphorical yin to his yang.
Your voice is hoarse when you try to speak, breath stuttering with every powerful roll of Damian’s hips, barely heard over the lewd sounds of being fucked open. Each strike of his cock inside of you hits that spongy mound of tissue, dragging his silky, hot length against it with each withdrawal. It has you climbing right back towards your inevitable peek, the only question is-- will he let you finish this time?
“Dami--m’gonna--please, m’so close, baby.” You wheeze, and he smiles, teeth blindingly white even though the haze of your oxygen deprivation. You find some reprieve from the deliciously pleasurable pain when he finally peels his fingers back from your throat, hands sliding to your shins to fold them up and into your chest. His pace never lessens, he never slips out, following the bending of your body, the new angle allowing an even deeper stroke inside your gummy walls. It has you keening, hands clawing at his chest, his gold chain bouncing against the backs of your palms.
“Very well, I think you’ve earned it.” Reaching between your bent legs, Damian’s thumb slices through the lips of your cunt that are spread wide around his cock to seek out your clit. He’s precise, circling the aching bud in a way that makes you choke, throat vibrating with a squeal. You’re close again, rapidly approaching your release, so fast you can barely keep up, the pressure in your belly building to an unbearable tightness. This time, when you meet his eyes, the malice is gone, replaced with what you can only describe as devotion. “Go on, make a mess on my cock, cum for me.”
That’s all it takes, his permission coupled with the expert swirl of his thumb and the perfect drag of his cock have you seeing stars, bursting with a cry of his name. You scream, back arching up, chest to chest with him as he cradles you close. “I know, beloved, I know. Let it all out.” He coos, still thrusting wildly through the resistance as your pussy tries to shove him out with each fluttering pulse. Damian can feel your cum weeping out around him, it wets his thighs, dribbles down the seam of his sack, drips down onto the mattress. It makes him groan, balls tightening as he reaches the point where he can no longer stave off his own release. 
With a low moan of your name he pumps into you once, twice--the third sending the first spray of his cum deep in your womb. You can feel the pulse of his length as he bottoms out with a grunt, forehead pressing against yours, breath hot against your mouth. Jet after jet of semen coats your insides, filling you up so full it almost hurts. You whimper out, and Damian shushes you, cupping your face to plant a soft kiss against your lips. “Shh,” he murmurs. “You did so well for me, my darling. Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.”
All you can manage is a hum, Damian’s fingers carding through your sweat-slicked hair as he peppers soft kisses over your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your forehead. This has got to be your favorite part, because while he knows how to completely wreck you, he’s also right there to pick up the pieces and stitch you right back together again. 
He carries you into the bathroom, runs a bath for the both of you, coddles and keeps you close until the pair of you are falling into his freshly stripped bed beneath the sheets. His arm is slung snugly around your waist, his lips on the back of your neck as you settle in preparation of sleep. “I’d like you to move your things into the manor.” His voice is soft, there’s a hesitation there that is so uncharacteristic it nearly shocks you back from exhaustion. But again, all you’re able to offer him is a hum of acknowledgement, wiggling further into the warmth of his body, heavy eyelids closing as your consciousness wanes and you drift. 
You’ll tackle this moving in business when you’ve got a clear head and a full belly, but the prospect of taking the next step in your relationship with Damian brings you the most pleasant, peaceful sleep you’ve had in years.
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rainylana · 1 day
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“I’m always going to take care of you.” Alternate version!
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: this is a new version of my old series i wrote last year. so many people have asked to see more of how eddie deals with such a horrible thing happening to the reader, so here we go, this is for you!
warnings: PLEASE READ! this is purposely written, in the beginning, as fast paced. i was trying to establish a sense of anxiety and fear while writing it because of how quickly it happened. the assault happens differently and does not go into much detail this chapter, but will during the next. i purposely switched povs because i still wanted to give insight to the reader. so with that being said, warnings for this fic include: rape, blood and bruises, broken bones, hospitalization, language, smoking of weed, trauma and shock, lots of tears and angst. please, please, let me know what you thought and if there’s anything i need to go about differently. it’s been a year since i’ve properly revisited this series. i feel like this version will be much darker and will take more of a toll. let me know your thoughts and if anything needs changed. i never spellcheck lol. this one’s for all of us. i see you and feel you. much love, lana.
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Steve Harrington’s parties were the kind that were talked about for weeks on end. The music, the food, the house. It was a mansion, and there had been many of times were you and Eddie had slept in multiple rooms of that house, unbeknownst to the owners knowledge.
This party was no different. Bodies were on bodies, beer was spilled and the pool was splashing every drop of water out into the flower bed, that was no covered in trash. There was a basketball court that entertained the jocks. It was an absolute mansion.
You were somewhere. Eddie would see you from time to time getting more beer or a snack, coming over to check on him. He closed his eyes, taking a long drag and leaned against the wall. “Shit, this shit is good.” He coughed slightly, letting his arms fall at his sides, black sleeves pulled up at his elbows.
You found him eventually, hair slightly wet from being splashed at the pool, a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Most everyone was wearing their bathing suits. You smiled when you sat down beside him, laughing at the redness of his eyes. “Feelin good, Eddie?” You tapped his chin.
He grinned at you goofily. “Shit, is the shit, babe. Wanna try?” He offered it to you.
You plopped down on your ass and sat beside him, saying hi to all the others that joined the circle. You laid your head on his shoulder. “Sure you don’t want to come swim with me, Ed? It feels good. Moons out, too. It could be romantic.”
“I give you plenty of romance, darlin’.” He said through hooded eyes, armed laid lazily around your wet shoulders. “Damn, your tits are out!” He exclaimed, finally realizing you had changed, eyes bulging for dramatics.
You laughed and rolled your eyes. “My tits are not out. Everyone is wearing them! You picked it out, don’t you remember?”
“Baby, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t remember much of anything right now.” He was practically drooling at the mouth, giggling like a child and floating off into space.
“Uh, huh.” You gave him a look before turning to the rest of the group. “He’s cut off.”
He was too stoned to realize what you had said, curling up in himself and lulling his head against the wall, eyes drooping closed.
“Eddie, Eddie, oh, okay,” You sighed, watching as he fell asleep. “I’m serious, Gareth, make sure he doesn’t do anything else. I got to carry this guy home, you know.”
You sat with Eddie for almost an hour, making sure he was alright. He always was. He always got tired when he smoked weed, you did too, but not near as much as he did. You gave him a kiss on the cheek, telling everyone else you’d be back and that you were going to change your clothes.
You went to the same room you always did, walked up the same steps and same corridor, the air cool against the exposure of your wet skin. Nobody was upstairs. You had planned for a quick change and nothing more, but you hadn’t any idea what was waiting for you behind the door, or the fact you were being followed.
Eddie was in and out of it, waking up here and there if someone spoke loudly enough. Dustin kept laughing, about what, he didn’t know or care. He just wanted to sleep. Later on he would realize that it was probably an act of God that he heard you, because there was no scientific explanation for it. He shouldn’t have heard you.
The music was booming loud, playing a hit from Blondie over the speakers. People were chugging beers, getting high and fucking out in the shed outside, the bedrooms above. The lights were flashing on and off, mixtures of colors painting the walls, their bodies. There was no way he could of heard you, yet he did.
He felt as if he were dreaming at first. His eyes were still closed, body numb from the awkward position he was in. It felt like a loud thumping at first, like something had hit the floor. Then a crash, something had broke. Then a high pitched noise, someone had screamed. It had to have been a dream, because he swore it was you.
Eddies eyes peeled open slowly, foggy and clouded from his high, but he didn’t feel so good anymore, and was left with a chill up his spine. He looked to the right of him to find you gone. “Gareth?” His voice was gravely and deep. “Where’d y/n go?”
Gareth pointed up the stairs quickly, eager to get back to his conversation with Robin about her thoughts on the new Back to the Future movie. Eddie had pushed himself up and found the stairs. It was a mansion, having had to climb four sets of stairs before he could find the hallway. Each set he could hear it clearer. He still shouldn’t have. The music was too loud. He could feel the vibrations underneath his feet against the wood flooring.
He walked quicker and quicker, the sounds of crashing, screaming, begging, becoming louder and louder. Soon, he heard his own name, and he knew it was you. He was running then, as fast as he could to find you. And when he did, the last door on the left, the same room you both had slept in many of times, he was brought to pure horror.
You weren’t entirely sure what was happening. Well, you did. You had been raped. You were just confused what was happening now. You were sitting up, staring blankly at the floor. Eddie was down at your feet, saying something, saying a lot of things, actually, but you couldn’t hear him. It sounded like he was underwater. Your ears were ringing, and he kept dabbing his hand under your nose. Were you bleeding?
Your hands were vibrating, along with the other parts of your body, shaking like you were having a seizure. Surely you’d pass out soon. Everything you felt was heightened. The pain, the emotion, or lack of. You soon realized you were going into shock.
You felt everything, yet nothing, all at the same time.
Four seconds.
It had taken four seconds for Eddie to react. Four seconds for him to decide what to do. He’d found you bent over the bed, hands pinned above your head and legs split apart. The man above you, twice your size, twice his size, a man he’d never seen before, raping you. It had taken him four seconds to react.
The man above you had stopped when Eddie had come in, staring at him in the act with a look of surprise and shock. Eddie lunged then, knocking the man over and into a side table that crumbled under their weight, a string of punches and curses, the sound of choking and items breaking. There was so much noise, but you didn’t hear any of it. You laid there, bent over, legs spread, a mixture of blood and semen seeping out of you as you stared straight ahead, fixated on the painting in front of you.
Steve and his mom at the beach.
You didn’t hear the sound of Eddie’s cry of pain when your attacker punched the wind out of him, you didn’t hear him run out of the room or Eddie’s footsteps after him, halting halfway and returning back to you. You kept thinking of Steve and his mom. She was so sweet. You really should spend more time with her.
All of that, led to now.
“Baby, baby, please, please, say something!” He panicked, knelt down at your legs, holding your arms to keep you upright, “Oh, God,” He took another look at your legs, covered in blood. “Oh, my god, Oh, my god.” He covered his mouth briefly, not knowing what to do. “Okay, okay,” He jumped up, running to the joining bathroom to grab a towel. “Okay, baby, I got this, see?” He started quickly wiping away at the blood, switching his eyes from his legs to you.
It looked like you’d been killed, or were dying. You said nothing, deathly pale, face stained with tears and mascara, deep bruising that painted your cheeks and eyes purple. Your lip was busted and bleeding. You were shaking with tremors, your breath coming out in little pants that were uneven. You were choking on your sobs, not a single one being allowed out. It hurt to sit, the pain in your abdomen was almost unbearable.
Eddie didn’t realize it himself, but he was also going in to shock. It became harder and harder to get the blood off of you due to his shaky hands, and his breathing become more sporadic and choppy. “I’m getting it, honey. I’m trying.” He said, words coming out in a rush. The towel was stained red when he’d finished, your legs still coated, stained by the blood from inside of you. He looked you over, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to do.
“Y/n,” He gasped, reaching up to grab your face. “Talk to me. Are you hurt? Where does it hurt at?”
You couldn’t look at him. It felt impossible. Your eyes were so heavy. His voice still sounded as if he were underwater, his movements slow, like he was fighting off a current, and you suddenly became freezing, trembling harder like you were out in the snow. Maybe it was the shock.
“Honey, please,” Eddie begged you, eyes tearing up. “I don’t know what to do.”
When he noticed how hard you were shaking, he jumped up and got a blanket from the chair, wrapping it around your body and sitting next to you. “Okay, here, I’m here. Steve!” His scream snapped you out of it, making you gasp and jump.
“No!” Your voice was hoarse, burning as you screamed. “No!” You tried to stand but you collapsed, pointing to the door. “Close the door! Close the door!”
Your urgency made him obey quickly, and he was slamming the door and locking it within a second. “Y/n-”
“You can’t tell anyone!” You sobbed, wobbling on your legs. You were a sight, one that would traumatize him for the rest of his life. “No one, swear it! Let’s just go home!” You we’re a wreck, sobbing, hyperventilating, shaking. Surely you would faint.
“Angel, baby,” He tried to approach you, but you freaked.
“No!” You jumped away. “Don’t- don’t touch me, please!” Was the room getting darker?
“Okay, okay,” He held up his hands, heart racing and bulging, fearful eyes. “I won’t touch you. I’ll stay right here, okay?”
You nodded, mouth opening and closing, feet shuffling, limping, trying to stay upright. Surely, you would faint.
His elbows are on his knees, hands pressed against his mouth. The chair he’s in is uncomfortable, an ache in his back that matches the one in his heart. Wayne is there, sitting across from him on the other side of the room. Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin are outside in the waiting room, along with the rest of hellfire. He tried to be discreet. Well no, that wasn’t true. When you’d fainted, Eddie lost it.
He’d swooped you up in his arms, carrying you down stairs, a sobbing mess, looking anywhere for anyone, to help. He found Mike first, then Chrissy Cunningham. The party was over very quickly.
“Eddie.” Wayne said tiredly, wearing a puffed, flannel coat. “Why don’t you go home, bud? I’ll stay with her.”
“No.” He didn’t miss a beat. He was staring a hole right through you, eyes so tearful they looked to be made of glass. “I can’t leave her.”
Wayne knew he wouldn’t leave. It was four in the morning, and you hadn’t shown any signs of life. If it weren’t for the machines, Eddie was sure you would have been dead. You were so quiet, not a stir, not a twitch. Were you dreaming? Was it good or a nightmare?
“She’s alright, buddy. You know that.” Wayne could see the telltale signs of his panic attack coming on. “You heard what the doctor said.”
You had abrasions along your vaginal walls. Your nose was broken, now covered with gauze and medical tape. You had two broken ribs, bruises covering your entire body. The doctor had asked him questions he didn’t know the answer to. Eddie knew what had happened, but what had really happened?
You would be okay. He knew that. You were alive and you survived. But were you okay? What would you become when you woke up? You would be totally traumatized, or would you simply move on with life? He knew the answer and he hated himself for knowing it. He knew the pain you were going to suffer when you woke up. He saw it. He saw what it was you would have to endure. A part of him wished you would sleep peacefully forever.
It felt like every vital organ inside of him had been ripped apart, like his stomach had been cut and everything spilled out. He’d thrown up twice since they got to the hospital. It been hours since you both got there. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d saw. Your body being used, abused by a man who had beaten you up, raped you, split you open and left bloody.
“Oh, god, Wayne.” Eddie broke down in sobs, shoulders sinking and face hiding into his hands for a shield, a mask to hide from the world. “This is all my fault.”
The image of you had scared his brain, the mental image something he thought he’d never be able to erase. Through everything he had gone through, this moment here, was the worst moment he had ever lived through, and he himself, would make a deal with god if he could, just to take your place, to take it all away. The love of his life was in pain, and it caused him more hurt than he could have ever imagined.
His uncle looked at him, saddened and distraught for the both of you. “Don’t say that, Eddie. You know she’d hate to hear you say somethin’ like that.”
Eddie’s body shook with heavy, deep and broken cries. “It is. I was asleep. I was asleep and stoned out of my mind while she was being raped right above me!” He practically spat the words with a venomous hatred, throwing out his arm as he looked at you longingly. “I failed her. Her, of all people. I fuckin’ failed the one thing I care about most. How the hell am I supposed to live with this?”
Wayne watched him stare at you, stare at you and cry like he was mourning for the entire world, like you had been taken from him.
“How are we supposed to be okay after this, Wayne?” He looked like a little boy then, looking over to his uncle with big, brown eyes. “How can I…how can she ever forgive me?” Another sob, and another. Wayne was sat beside him now, holding his shoulders as Eddie cried.
“You two have been through hell together.” The old man said, on hand on his nephews new. “You’ll get through this. She will and you will. She stood by your side when you were dying, remember? She helped you through it. It did you both in, but you got through it, didn’t you?
He didn’t answer, but he heard his uncle loud and clear. He didn’t know how he’d do it, but he’d help you in every way he could. He owed it to you. You’d patched him up, held him through nightmares and insecurities about his scars. You fed him, helped clothed him and helped him keep himself clean when he was still too sore to move around. You had put your own life on pause for him. He owed it to you to do the same. In his eyes, it was his own fault it happened, anyways.
“Yeah.” Eddie sniffled, wiping away his tears with his jacket. “Yeah, I- you’re right. You’re right. I can help her. I’ll help her. She’ll be okay.”
“She’ll be okay.” Wayne assured him.
He didn’t realize just how hard it was going to be, how a giant rift in your relationship would almost separate the two of you. That the both of you would be forever changed from that night.
Eddie gulped, blinking back tears as he looked at the steady beating of your heart in the vital screen. “She’ll be okay.”
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randomfoggytiger · 2 days
Text
Collector's Edition: Reviving that Love
Let's have an assortment of mature, (mostly) fluffy, coupley Revival fics, shall we?
This list only scratches the surface; but hopefully it's enough to soothe a particular itch.
**Note**: Another Revival list I've done is Beefy Revival Mulder (and Other Muscular Mentions)-- perfect pairing to this, I believe.
Loose chronological order below~
@oohnotvery/the_eternal_optimist's Always Wanted
But he has a key to her place, because they’ve always had keys to the other’s place, even in horrible times. It arrived in the mail one day, sealed tightly in a bubble-wrapped envelope, addressed from her to him with a handwritten note that he hadn’t even bothered to read before crushing it up in a ball and tossing it into the trash can. Several hours later, in a fit of frustration, he had fished the note out of the trash and shoved it, unread, into a kitchen drawer.
Breakup Mulder realizes Scully has been waiting for him.
@aloysiavirgata’s (Ao3, WBM, Gossamer, LJ, Alt. LJ)
Si Hoc Legere Potes, Liberaliter Educatus
"It was very important to Deputy Director Skinner that you two meet with me. He felt that you needed some guidance before you could resume any kind of professional partnership."
I grit my teeth. You're a dead man, Skinner. 
S10 Mulder and Scully run laps around the FBI recruitment therapist.
I need a fic with Scully's stolen dog Dagoo, and her wearing a Knicks tshirt.
“This is the one I ripped a piece off of for Boggs, Scully. This isn’t just my Knicks shirt. This is my favorite Knicks shirt. I’ve been looking for it!”
She pulls Tesla closer. “Stop violating the fourth amendment, Agent.”
“Stop violating the eighth commandment, Doctor.”
Post The Weremonster Mulder and Scully debate dog names and Knicks T-shirts.
What's your Mulder and Scully Thanksgiving sex headcanon?
"I'm going to die," she mumbles, her eyes half-lidded in tryptophanic stupor.
Mulder and Scully are stuffed after dinner.
@flukemen?/@pinebluffvariants/scienceandmysticism/contradictiontonature's (Ao3) Tie (prompt #1)
“Hello?”
“You know it’s me.” He did. “What are you doing?”
“I’m shopping. And I hope you’re using your bluetooth.” He could tell she was driving from the white noise over the sound of her breathing.
Mulder uses Scully's expertise to pick out a tie.
@hemisphaeric's (Ao3)
"Mulder you need new clothes"
The next day they decided to go into town and do some shopping, after Scully had had to tell Mulder for the tenth time he needed clothes and that no, he couldn’t wear those old ones just to seduce her.
Scully helps Mulder pick out new suits for his new job.
Let me carry some of the pain for you
Suddenly warm hands were touching him but he didn’t react. He couldn’t react, feeling so distant from everything. Scully was speaking, he recognized her voice, but not her words, those were like a white noise in the back of his head, which was so loudly screaming.
“I am better Scully, for real” he didn’t realize he had started talking at first, but he couldn’t stop, tears fogging up his vision.
Mulder panics, thinking Scully will leave him again.
touch.
Things had changed again in the last period though, she had come home; she had been spending time there with him more and more frequently. He understood her necessity to take things slowly, to test the territory before diving in head first, but he felt ready for it.
Mulder is glad to have Scully back.
Mulder, Scully and Elon Musk
She pushed him away and swatted at his arm. “You woke me up early to talk about Elon Musk??”
Mulder wakes Scully early for Elon's rocket news.
grumpysimon's Morse Code
He asks you for a pen. The genius always loses things. Your coffee comes and he spills a little on the napkin. He taps on the table. Morse code, maybe. You’re too tired to figure out what he’s saying to you in secret. You say his name and that smile is more crooked than ever.
Scully secretly loves Mulder's obsessive passion.
@baronessblixen/Baroness_Blixen's
Belong
He closes his eyes and counts. What will it be, he wonders. The sound of a car or their creaky door?
Another minute passes before he hears the soft squeak behind him.
Mulder tells Scully he's "done okay without her."
A few months after they're back on the x-files, Mulder's notices that his neck and shoulders are sore.
Mulder feels better and promises - with a wink - to do the same for her, she just needs to ask. She doesn't ask but Mulder knows her feet are sore a few days later, after hours of walking around. He silently starts massaging her feet while consorting in his hotel room, half-empty take-out containers on the bed next to them....
Mulder doesn't replace his chair-- which is just fine, because Scully becomes his masseuse.
Mulder giving Scully a foot massage
“Exactly. My feet hurt and I need a break. I’m not…” She trails off again as she massages her foot. 
“Not young anymore?” Mulder offers and her head shoots up like a rocket, her eyes shooting daggers. 
“Not used to it anymore.”
Post Ghoulie Scully's high heels finally catch up to her.
There's No Place Like Home (Ao3)
He loves her stubbornness. Once, she told him that she fell in love with him because he was stubborn. Well. That was the pot calling the kettle black. No one is as stubborn as his Scully. 
AU-- Nothing Lasts Forever Mulder brings an injured Scully home.
Growing Old (with You) (Ao3)
“Just wait til you’re my age,” he jokes.
“55 looks good on you.” She proves her point with a kiss on his nose. “I can only hope to look as good as you when I turn 55.”
“You will. And I will remind you of it. If I’m invited to your birthday, that is.”
“You’re always invited to my birthday.”
Scully drops in for Mulder's 55th, assuring him his aging concerns are overblown.
A Study in Chemistry
"I didn't know you cared for this kind of movie, Scully." Mulder, sprawling on her bed, in her motel room, looks slightly disgusted at the small screen where two generic actors share a truly boring, less than passionate kiss in a typical, cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.
"I don't," she says, returning her attention to the case report they're supposed to be working on. Despite his words, Mulder's eyes are glued to the movie and Scully can't help but smile.
Mulder and Scully bridge the gap between them-- and all because of Hallmark and memories.
Surprises Are Best Served Ice-Cold - Chapter 1
They both start towards each other at the same time, laughing.
“Mulder, I don’t remember how to stop,” she says, trying to get her skates under control.
“I’ve got you,” he says calmly and she hopes he’s right because she loses her balance, stumbles the last few steps towards him and crashes right into his chest, knocking him to the ground.
Mulder surprises Scully with a frozen over lake for Christmas.
A Day in May (Ao3)
Mulder puts on cheesy Christmas music and turns down the lights, creating a mood. They share a cup of sugary hot cocoa with mini marshmallows and whipped cream. When Scully raises her eyebrows at the cream, Mulder dips a finger in and deposits a blob on her nose.
“Live a little, Scully.”
And she does.
Mulder forgoes sleep to help Scully decorate their tree on Christmas Eve.
Night Out
"I can't breathe." Mulder is pouting. She wants to be angry with him - all of this is his own fault, after all - but he looks so miserable and yet so adorable that she feels sympathetic. She strokes his cheek and smiles at him.
"I'll make you make some soup."
"Are you sure I'm not dying?" he asks again, coughing. She offers him some tea and he sips it noisily.
Mulder gets sick after a night of Squatchin.
@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk​‘s (Ao3) 
post-Plus One
“You reasoned your doppelgänger out of existence,” he says flatly. She smiles against his bare shoulder, nodding.
“She was a very reasonable woman.”
He laughs softly, the rumble of it caressing her cheek. 
Post Plus One Mulder and Scully catch a few winks.
ficlet; twenty-six years
On her side of the desk, he has procured for her a plain blue baseball cap, a skinny caramel macchiato, and a not-skinny blueberry muffin.
She sits down as he hums and types away at something, taking a bite of the muffin and putting the cap on her head.
Scully always guesses which anniversary Mulder is celebrating.
fluff 🤢
They’re packing up the basement just one last time. They both learned early in life that saying goodbye is so much easier when it’s a choice, and the moment holds no bitterness, no fear.
Post Revival Scully finds flowers she'd once given Mulder in their basement office.
@myassbrokethefall's untitled rm9sbg93zxjz post-ep
Scully had chanced to see a picture of a blobfish on the internet some months ago and he wasn't sure he had ever, in their years and years together, seen her laugh so hard. It was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, frankly, watching the outsizedly hysterical reaction of Dana Scully MD, his serious scientist partner, to a picture of a lumpy, slimy, theatrically frowning fish on the internet. He had brought it up at every opportunity for weeks, renamed the wireless network at the house Blobfish Cove, found a way to work a reference to it into a meeting with Skinner, once printed out a picture of it and left it on Scully’s pillow, and watched in utter delight as she got the helpless giggles every single time. (Even the Skinner time. He hadn't even asked, just looked wearily at some point behind their heads for a few seconds before sighing and continuing on.)
AU-- Robot episode Mulder dreamed up the whole thing.
@onpaperfirst's (Ao3) Honey Hi
The doors slid open and Mulder wrangled a cart from the corral.
“They set up the little rooms and it makes you feel like you’re at home,” she said. “It dulls your senses. You forget you’re in public. And all of a sudden you’re in the middle of a fight about which rug matches the couch.”
“Let’s not fight in Ikea, Scully. It’s so bourgeois.”
Part II to Home, Home, Mulder and Scully's romantic life is examined through the lens of perfectly balanced humor... and their IKEA trip.
@ghostbustermelanieking's (Ao3) bearing north (Ao3)
“The cops out front will stop him,” Mulder says comfortingly.
She nods. Her skull is still pounding, but she feels limp in his arms, safe. “I tried to fight him off,” she says. “I almost did. But he got angry and shoved me into the pool. I hit my head.”
Mulder takes Scully home after she's injured while pursuing a perp.
"You’re beautiful, you know that?” (Ao3)
She turns her eyes up to meet his, burning blue eyes in the night. “You’re… all I have left now, Mulder.” Names are left unsaid between them, but they all register in his brain, like a knife. “I think my leaving was for the best, but I’m ready to come back. You’re my family, Mulder.”
Scully proposes to her Mulder.
@settle-down-frohike's Headcanon: It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota.
It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota. She was flipping through a dossier and he was dozing, as per usual. She heard a mumbled version of her name and threw a distracted “Hm?” his way without glancing up. “Scully.” Firmer, more forceful this time. She looked over, annoyed, and spat “What Mu-“ and realized he was still asleep, but fitfully so.
My Struggle II Scully hopes she can comfort Mulder once more.
@lilydalexf/LilydaleXF 's My Andromeda
He looks back at the road and answers honestly, "I didn't watch many shows. The ones I really wanted to see I wasn't allowed to watch. Except after excessive begging."
"And on nights you could successfully sneak into the TV room after your parents fell asleep." It's a statement, not a question.
"You know me so well, Scully."
Mulder and Scully imagine a night of stargazing.
Eternity Awaits
"Mulder…. We need to go to bed."
"You don't want to freeze together?"
"Not on this decrepit couch I don't."
Post This Mulder and Scully discuss their eternal conversations.
Apostrophic/@mappingthexfiles's
This
Mulder said Push a third time and they both groaned with the effort of heaving the massive piece another three feet, barricading it firmly against the bedroom door.
“What does this,” he gasped, “remind you of?”
Scully, drawing in deep gulps of air, pushed herself up on her elbows, propped on the edge of the chest. She did not say the fleeting thought that had gone through her head: maybe it was not a bad thing Mulder had not been present at the birth of their child.
“Um,” Scully said.
“Yeah,” Mulder said. Panting out, “Towers of furniture.”
Post This Mulder and Scully move their furniture back into place.
The Scully Treehouse of Horror
The automatic taps don’t turn on and off for him. He’s invisible to its sensors. The alarm, on the other hand, blares every time he walks in the door. Sometimes, even, once he’s inside the door and has been for some time. He’ll get up at night for a drink of water and Scully gets jarred out of postcoital bliss by the klaxon siren of intruder alert, intruder alert, Mulder cursing at the sink in the kitchen, yelling for Scully....
If she yells back for him to punch in the code, he does the wrong birthdate or botches the spelling of Queequeg. More often than not, she pads out in bare feet, tying her robe, entering the right code, filling the glass with cold water, sleepily herding a grumbling Mulder back to the warm bed.
Scully's house hates Mulder; and she loves him all the more for it.
Lapsed_Scholar's Wake-Up Calls
On their way into work, his phone rings. It’s just a wrong number, and the other commuters don’t really take any notice, but Scully arches her eyebrow.
At her questioning look, “Do you recognize this theme?”
“Vaguely. Should I?”
“It’s our theme song, Scully! And I think it suits us. Kind of spooky.” A beat. “Don’t you remember our movie?”
If possible, her eyebrow climbs higher.
Mulder always ratted he and Scully out to people-- and still does now, years and years later.
@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys's
Prompt: ballet slippers, chocolate pudding in a can, Wyoming
It was like a Carlton Varney fever dream; like a brothel with aspirations. Mulder actually paused in the doorway and leaned back out to double check the address number on the side of the house.
“Wow,” Scully said, daintily setting down her suitcase a few feet inside the door. She wanted to make a joke, but Mulder looked appalled.
Mulder books a truly terrible vacation spot.
Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 12
“I want something I can’t make.”
It was Day 18 of self-isolation and if you looked at quarantine like the stages of grief, they had rolled easily past panic and guilt, skipped loneliness altogether and were deep in the grip of isolation.
Scully shot him a look.
Mulder and Scully are sick and tired of COVID quarantine.
Prompt: Mulder & Scully vacation Christmas/Hanukah at the Quonochontaug cabin post season 11
“When was the last time you stayed here?” she asked, wrinkling her sensitive nose at the smell of dust, of mildew.
One suitcase on the floor at his feet, one still in his hand, Mulder closed the door behind him, his face ponderous. “Overnight?” he clarified. “I think I was nineteen?”
Post Revival Mulder and Scully spend the New Years in the old Mulder summer home.
outsquatchin94's Joy to You and Me
“Those hipsters… But Scully, that was such a look. Also, I hate to break this to you, but I’m quite sure it’s in the back spare room somewhere in a box.”
For a moment, he thinks she’ll spring off the couch and go find the offending object. She doesn’t though, she only smiles a little.
“I think we turned out okay in the end, even without the sleeping bags.” And Mulder has to agree with her.
Mulder and Scully discuss her old jacket.
@msrafterdark/msrafterdark's A concept : slow dancing on an ill lit front porch late in the evening while it’s thundering and maybe just starting to rain?
When they’re like this again, as though no time has passed, the pleasure of the familiarity is so good it almost hurts her. To have him well again, to be safe and wanted and in his arms is only made sweeter by the fact that the knocks and falls they have taken ultimately only made them stronger.
Mulder and Scully, the Unremarkable House and dancing.
@tofuttim's Comfort and Chaos (Ao3)
The rain pelted relentlessly against the windows of the small cabin. The night air was cold, but inside the cabin, a fire and a shared bed with Mulder kept her warm. The sound of the storm thrusted her thoughts back to the beginning. 
The beginning of forever.
Scully asks Mulder what he remembers about their first case.
@defnotmeyo's (Ao3) The Cost of Living is Just Right
The beds are wrapped in white and light grey sheets with sky blue pillow cases on the spare pillows. The tables all look like something you would have seen on the Jetsons.  
It takes a bit of time for Mulder to feel comfortable at Scully's apt.
Ingot Silver
“Birthday time, huh? We could go uh,” he licked some sauce off his finger as he moved a dish over to the sink, “we could go squatchin’.” He turned and winked at her.
Mulder learned plans an evening dinner for he and his Scully.
the “before i even needed glasses” line
Then, on days he doesn’t hate himself (and those days are multiplying and growing closer together all the time), he remembers he has a son, healthy and alive. He has the love of his life and while she’s not home yet, her toothbrush is back in his bathroom.
Post Cathedral episode Mulder isn't letting his homie get away ever again.
It really looks like Mulder when youre seeing two of everything.
“Mulder… you… you hurled a raccoon down our stairs.”
He shrugs, sheepish as ever.
“Like… you hurled him.”
“It was for Daggoo!”
A raccoon holds the Mulder-Scully household hostage.
I always laugh at that bit in detour where mulder is like “if ur lucky u get seventy-five (75) yrs. if ur rly lucky u get eighty
She refrains from rolling her eyes, instead slides in front of him and slinks an arm around him, patting that soft of his oblique threatening to turn into a love handle.
“Charlie has a decent head of hair,” Mulder mumbles.
“Charlie is four years younger. And you made it passed 50, Mulder. You won.”
Scully reassures Mulder he still looks gooooooooood.
BONUS (HAD TO INCLUDE THESE FOR THE MSR)
@monikafilefan/MonikaFileFan's
Language of Love: Prompts of Angst and Romance - Chapter 6
A sudden rise in emotion crests in her throat when she sees the wondrous look of awe and admiration seize the love of her life.
It’s the exact look she saw grace is face eighteen years ago.
“Mulder…” she whispers, raking her fingers through his silky hair as he grins up at her with a trembling chin.
Post Revival Mulder feels his baby move during the witching hour.
39 and 82 from the prompt list 😁/Just Breathe
“She’s here and she’s beautiful, honey, she’s just—”
“What, Mulder?” Scully shot up onto her elbows with her heart in her throat. “She’s just what?”
“It’s fine. She’s fine, Scully. She just looks like a he.”
Her jaw dropped. “What are you—are you sure?” Their slippery, pink baby covered in layers of vernix and blood mewled in protest as Mulder lifted the tiny bundle away from the comfort of his warm chest and pointed wide-eyed between its legs.
Mulder and Scully and unexpectedly fast Halloween baby makes a chaotically competent three.
RoseThornhill's
Spooky Mulder: The Revenge
Excited dad!Mulder wants a spooky theme for his Halloween daughter's name.
Alice is a Punk Rocker
Mulder, Scully, and their Halloween baby are happy together, despite a few bumpy patches.
@myownsuperintendent/MyOwnSuperintendent’s Renewal
She tries to shift in the bed, to touch him too, and he stops and pulls back.  “Don’t try to sit up,” he says.  “They made me promise I wouldn’t disturb you.”  He’s trying to smile at her through the tears in his eyes.  “You’re all right,” he repeats.  “Please don’t scare me like that again.  Not ever again.”
Post Revival Scully loses a lot of blood during delivery, which helps convince Jackson to stay with his family and new sister a bit longer.
Thanks for reading~
Enjoy!
68 notes · View notes
nimmie-nugget · 2 days
Note
Hello :3
Can I request?
Logan x reader but the reader is good at martial arts and protects logan? :3‼️
It can be taekwondo, or hapkido or anything u can choose :3‼️‼️
(I love ur stories abt sbg sm bro skdkkwkdk)
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Note#1: Anonnnnnnn🥺👉👈 M’SO HAPPPPYYYYYYYYYY(unless u requested to the wrong person😭🫶) recently just started writing abt em😼💪 Ego go boom boom, just don’t remind me of the Aiden fic I wrote💀🫶🫶—Enjoy!
Note#2: I LOVE LOGAN PLSSSS, I WANT SOMEONE SMART AND KIND IFHHHHHHHJEHDHSNDJ
Note#3: I didn’t really specify the fighting style or anything so you can just leave that part up to the imagination :3
Upcoming: Ben Clark X Bullied Gyaru!Reader.
Warning: I apologize prior for any Grammer, Spelling+etc errors. Cringe?? Logan may be OOC >:(
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Logan would honestly love you so much!! You’re genuinely the first person who hung out with him!! Eventually leading to a romantic relationship!!
“[N/N], is it alright if I watch?…I feel so entranced watching you practice.” He muttered to you, fiddling with his fingers as he blushed, looking down at his shoes, wanting an excuse to hang out for the time being.
Logan would have to call out on you to be careful when you pew pew around Mother Nature. He does hold some passion for it after all.
“[N/N]?…could you watch out for the bush please? I heard apples will grow on it soon and I’d really like some..!” He says, nervously smiling as he walked up to you and securely held your hand, enjoying the warmth and protection you give off.
Logan who’d always cheer for you silently when you go up against other people, even if you lose it doesn’t matter to him! He supports you no matter what.
“Nothing to be sad about, you tried your best right?” He reassured, wanting you to feel better about yourself and not think about the defeat. Grabbing your hand with tender and planting a soft, passionate kiss on your lips.
Logan just knew that he could always come to you if he ever felt uneasy!! Always came to you after dealing with Barron daily.
“Be careful?? Please? I don’t want you to get hurt..” He said with concern as he frowned, his hands holding onto your arm with immense grip, shaking.
Logan who’d always scold you and patch you up at the same time if you get injured.
“Please never do that again? You had me so worried!! Think about what your actions before you do it!!” He scolded with concern, dabbing ointment onto your wound with a cotton swab.
Logan who learned how to fight by observing you, wanting to protect you too but it’s always the other way around.
“Like this?” He questioned, looking to see your nod of approval as he practiced.
Logan when he first ever beat up Barron and the group, he ranted to you about it with a hint of anger remembering everything Barron had done.
“You can’t just go bullying others for no reason!! Ugh..” Logan said annoyed, quite out of character for him but you were definitely proud!!
Ruffling his hair as you planted a kiss on his forehead, by that he instantly calmed down and snuggled into you, looking at you as he blushed.
Logan knew that you’d go to Savannah if he ever told you about what happened.
“I know you are strong but…I don’t want you to get hurt.” He muttered to himself anxiously as he glanced at you with fondness.
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Lil Note: Hearts, Comments and Reblogs are Appreciated💙
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stariikis · 2 days
Text
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operation : be your boyfriend | yang jungwon
synopsis ; thousands of ways to say, 'i love you,' and jungwon can't even carry out one special procedure without messing up. that is, until your birthday rolls around and you're greeted by the kitten you've always dreamed of owning, at your doorstep...
pairing ; clumsy!jungwon x fem!reader | genre ; fluff, crushing, confessions | wc ; 2721 | warnings n notes ; you're not oblivious, you're just a little bit of a mastermind sociopath! appearances of sunoo riki heeseung and eunchae in this fic!
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baby... i'm just tryna play it cool... but i just can't hide that... i want you ઇઉ
OPERATION 1 : SECRET ADMIRER
“Clearly, he’s not listening to us.” 
“Yang Jungwon…” 
“Yang Jungwon!” 
Jolting back to the present, Jungwon coughs awkwardly and jerks his gaze away from the girl across the room. He didn’t realise he was staring at the mere back of her head the whole time… how embarrassing for him. Shifting his gaze back to his groupmates, staring at him with a bemused expression, he clears his throat. 
“I’m on task,” he tries to say, but it comes out as a pathetic croak from the roof of his mouth. He has to clear his throat again. 
“What a liar,” Riki scoffs, following Jungwon’s prior gaze all the way to the front of the classroom. Doubled over with laughter by the board, yn seems to have an aura of gold surrounding her figure. In between rays of sunlight and flecks of fairydust, the way she smiles lights up the whole room like she’s in a fantasy book. 
Barely trying to conceal it, Sunoo stares towards her direction. Ironically, the words that leave his mouth as he does so are, “can you at least try to hide it? You’re too obvious.”
“I can’t believe she can’t tell yet,” Heeseung mutters. 
For some reason, the whole table goes quiet. In the middle of the silence, Jungwon can only hear the clacking heels of their Maths teacher walking around and the soft rustle of papers, amiable chatter as groups begin to complete their assigned project. But a single voice stands out in the crowd. 
Never mind. Jungwon only hears her now. 
Isn’t it ridiculous? How he believed that his initial crush on her would be short-lived, nothing more than an impulsive attraction that would fade once he got to know her. When she walked up to him, however, saying nothing but a simple ‘thank you for sending me notes for yesterday’s class!’, he felt like his heart would race out of his chest. Unfortunately for him, she was too charismatic. 
With a perfect all-kill streak of grades, she’s never gotten a grade below 90. Not a point out of place. It’s the kind of person Jungwon aspires to be, a much better version of himself. Yes, he gets straight As every term and yes he’s been the class president for three years on end, but it’s nothing compared to her level. 
For the past two years, ever since she joined the class with an air exuding and radiating sheer confidence, Jungwon has been trying hard to beat her. Once would be enough for him. He’s been trying so hard to defeat her, however, that he’s forgotten to try to tame his feelings for her too. 
About a week after he met her, the butterflies churning deep inside his stomach were already too much for him. In her locker, silver letters Jungwon begged Sunoo to help him calligraph donned the bottom of an indirect, vague love letter. From your secret admirer. He doesn’t even remember now what he wrote inside, but he does recall many descriptions of her pretty smile and easygoing personality. 
It was only a day later he found out that he had accidentally dropped it in the locker next to hers. Lee Heeseung from the class beside them walked past, a basketball under one arm and the other hand holding the letter and reading it aloud to Riki, walking briskly beside him. In an instant, Riki looked straight at Jungwon across the hallway and facepalmed. 
OPERATION 1 : SECRET ADMIRER : FAILED
wait a minute, what is this? my heart is going lub-dub, just keeps pounding
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even from afar, oh, my, gosh! ; pulling me close, you're, my, crush, like a superpower
OPERATION 2 : INDIRECT CONFESSIONS
Daydreams. Flitting endlessly through your mind, like a paradox. It’s impossible to zone out during Biology. How dull you find the zoomed in aspects of all the systems in your body. Sure, you want to pursue something medical-related, but this class just isn’t it. 
“Jungwon’s staring at you again,” whispers your seatmate, Eunchae. She uses her pen to gesture behind you. Two seats diagonal to you both, Jungwon notices your glances his way and pretends to look elsewhere. He’s resting on the palm of his hand, the paper he took out to take notes on completely blank. 
“I can’t believe he’s the class president again,” you mutter with a tinge of bitterness. 
Eunchae sighs. She’s clearly heard enough of your one-sided disliking towards the student leader, and it shows in the way she decides to disregard you. “You don’t have to hate him. He obviously doesn’t reciprocate the hard feelings.” 
Of course he doesn’t. 
You try to hide a triumphant smile. Of course Jungwon doesn’t harbor any hatred towards you. Rather, it’s quite evident in the way he always asks you to be the first player in his team during PE, asks you if you want to group up with him, makes excuses to brush past you in the hallway – he’s always wanted something more than friendship. 
The one time you did agree to do a Korean Language project with him, however, when he came over to record the podcast you had written, all that got done was a bunch of giggles into the portable microphone. Jungwon, admitably, had a good sense of humor. And it, unfortunately, matched well with yours. 
You’re making this more solemn than it needs to be, you think to yourself, biting back a small smile to yourself. Shouldn’t it be a good thing that you’ve got Jungwon wrapped around your finger? 
Spinning your pen smartly, you sit up. Right. You’ve gotten out of many late homework submissions and responsibilities because Jungwon would literally cover for you with visible hearts in his eyes when he talks about you. You know you should feel guilty for exploiting him, but it’s just what a friend does, isn’t it? 
Friend. Another memory fades in. 
“Yahh, you’re so down bad you can’t even let her do her own work,” Sunoo mutters to Jungwon, quietly rearranging the papers. He thinks you’re out of earshot, but you can hear their conversation clearly from your desk. 
Jungwon shrugs his shoulders in the corner of your eye, and you swear he glances over at you for a second. “She’s my friend. Are you trying to say you never copy my homework?” 
Sunoo tsks loudly. “It’s different. She doesn’t need the help! You’ve seen her grades.” 
They divert into a small argument about whose grades are better, but you’re not really listening anymore. Your heart is starting to race uncontrollably, and you look desperately down at your chest. You’re trembling from the fact that Jungwon called you his friend? How pathetic. You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut as if juicing your brains of unwanted thoughts. 
But you can’t help but let out a short curse when your heart doesn’t slow down, your cheeks don’t cool off. Only Jungwon wants this. Not you too… 
And so when Eunchae finally gets bored of Bio once again, she leans in and pokes you. “Anyway, you know Jungwon has the fattest crush on you.” 
“Oh really?” you murmur, averting your eyes back to the liver diagram in front of you. Where you’re supposed to label, ‘oxygen-rich-blood’, you’ve scribbled ‘only jungwon’ in illegible handwriting. You pretend to act surprised, hiding the words with the palm of your hand. “He didn’t ask you to say that? Did he? As a prank?” 
Eunchae rolls her eyes. “It’s not a prank.” 
“So he asked you to say it.” 
“...” 
“I see.” You reach into your pencil case and pull out an eraser to wipe away the traces of your daydreams. It’s a good thing you do, because Eunchae suddenly looks over and teases you for falling asleep in lesson when you’re usually such a good student. If only she knew about the homework incidences. If only she knew about the thoughts that run through your head. 
What he’s trying to do is kind of… cute.
OPERATION 2 : INDIRECT CONFESSIONS : FAILED
my heart feels like a giant magnet, everything about you sticks to my heart, boy
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we're magnetized, i admit it. this time, i want!
OPERATION 3 : LET'S GET IT!
She’s got to be joking, right? There’s no way… 
“Yeah, idiot, you’re invited to my birthday party. You got a problem with that?” (Name) scoffs at Jungwon, retracting the simplistic black and white invitation card in her hand. “Maybe you don’t deserve this?” 
“No!” He says a little too fast, reaching out to snatch it from her playfully. 
He reads it with a poorly hidden smile. Is he even trying at this point? He’s been on the verge of a proper confession for a while now. Why would he want to hide the fact that he really really really wants her to be his? 
“15 May?” He sighs, feigning disappointment. “Too bad, I can’t make it.” 
Wait for it…
“Really? That’s too bad,” she replies monotonously, walking away without a care. Not the reaction Jungwon was expecting. He releases a breath of air, only now realising that he’s been holding his breath. How boring of her. 
“I was lying!” He calls, smoothing out his school uniform and running down the hallway after her. “I’m definitely coming!” 
She clearly starts to laugh as she runs away from him, yelling, “come or not, it doesn’t matter to me!” 
Jungwon doesn’t give up. With a hand running through his hair, he chases her down the halls. He would chase after her for eternity if he had to. Eventually, he catches up to her with a tap on the shoulder. WIth a mock-annoyed look, she slows down, shoving his shoulder.
“What’s your problem?” She huffs, “Can’t I get a break around here?” 
Jungwon smiles. With just the right amount of delusion, maybe he can convince himself that whatever she’s spouting is just a white lie. Untruths to cover up the truth. She wants him back, he swears!
“You’ll never get a break,” he mumbles, suddenly going shy as he leans in closer. Just like I practiced with Riki. Just like I practiced…
“Annoyi–”
“From running through my mind all day.” 
When Jungwon finally dares to open his eyes (yes, he was so scared he closed them), he’s shocked to see an empty spot next to him. When he looks up and down the hallway, (Name) sticks out her tongue at him, taunting him. The unbothered glimmer in her eyes reveals that she hasn’t heard a thing. 
Once again, Jungwon leaves school with a pit of mild disappointment in his stomach. Not so upset that it hurts like hell, but the wound’s deep enough to leave a scratch.
OPERATION 03 : LET'S GET IT! : FAILED
completely opposite, our type ; you're J and i'm so P
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S and N, polar opposites, but that's what pulls us in
INTERMISSION : BABY YOU'RE MY CRUSH
You hear it all.
What would Jungwon say when he finds out, that for a while now, you’ve been wrestling with your own complicated feelings, playing a game of tug of war inside your own heart? Nobody even knows you know. Nobody would even suspect you, of all people, to reciprocate Jungwon’s feelings. And, by this encounter, even Jungwon himself has no idea. 
i'll make it have a green light, girl's gotta have guts. so, let's go let's go, let's go let's go!
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don't wanna hide it, the magnet in my heart. gonna follow my feelings and get with you, boy
OPERATION 4 : CATCH SOME FELINES (FEELINGS)
What would Jungwon do for love? Just ask him this one question. He’ll probably lie and tell you he doesn’t know, and doesn’t fall for the traps set out by catching feelings, but it won’t explain why he’s outside (name)’s house on her birthday at 8 in the morning. He could very well have come at 9, an hour before the party starts, but he wants to have some time alone with her. 
To present his gift to her, snugly bundled up in his arms. And to, uh, say some other stuff. 
He looks down at the pearl-white fluffy being, purring contently in his arms. Just a while ago, he got his inspiration for a birthday gift for her. She may have casually brought it up in the midst of discussion for yet another group project, but miniscule things like that stick with Jungwon for ages. 
“I want a cat…” she whines, when their group’s gotten sidetracked from their discussion topic. (what do you think the rate of pet ownership is like in Korea?) “they’re so cute. Oh, even better, a kitten!” 
“Just get one then?” Eunchae rolls her eyes, and Riki hums in agreement. 
“I would. Even my mum wants one. But it’s so much work to adopt one.” 
So much work to adopt one? Jungwon scoffs in his mind. Now take a look at the lengths I’ve gone to for you. And I don’t even know if you like me back. Am I stupid or am I stupid? 
“Yes, Jungwon? Can I know why you’ve summoned me so early in the morning?” Suddenly, the front door opens after many persistent tries to ring the doorbell. “I know you’re excited for my birthday… but this is just weird.” 
She doesn’t notice the kitten squirming in his arms, still rubbing her eyes blearily. She looks so exhausted that Jungwon wants to apologise for awakening her and almost runs away to save himself from the awkwardness. But he stands his ground. This time, he will succeed. 
The chronicles of Yang Jungwon’s confession story. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
“Happy birthday.” He murmurs softly, daring to take a step closer and hold out his arms. At first, she squints down at the blur of fur in his hands, face smeared with confusion. It’s only when the furry ball lets out a small mew that she gasps and jerks her head back up. “I… I, uh…” 
Seeing her so amazed, with tears gathering in her eyes from the euphoria, he loses track of his words. His mind goes blank. Not knowing whether to continue calmly, or panic and die on the spot, he struggles to speak and feels his cheeks quickly growing with warmth. 
What if, just like we practiced doesn’t reassure him anymore, with the last time he used it as an affirmation turning out to be the greatest embarrassment of his life? Just like we practiced? He’s never practiced to be fluent and smooth. He’s always naturally been that way. He’s never had to fumble for the right words to say. Just like we practiced? When would he ever practice worst comes to worst with Riki? Come to think of it, he probably should have. He can’t handle standing here with such shame any longer. 
“I’m sorry for being so annoying I just really really like you and I don’t know whether you’ll like this gift or not, but I can’t go another day thinking you probably don’t like me back you can just reject me that’ll be better than misleading myself forever and ever…” 
He blurts in a small voice. 
And then, he repeats himself, louder and more confident. Like he usually is. “I like you…” 
“You must be blind, Yang Jungwon,” she says, laughing through the tears. A moment of silence passes as Jungwon tries to comprehend what he’s just heard. Blind? Why? She’s not going to say… “I like you, too?” 
It’s a question. It makes his heart race, but it doesn’t seem like enough.
“You do?” He chokes, his voice failing him. Blood rushes to his ears. “You don’t.” 
“Wait.” She clears her throat and claims, “I got nervous. I do. And it’s not the kitten, I know what you’re thinking…” 
Taking a step back, she receives the kitten into her arms and coos while Jungwon tries to process everything. “Though I’m so surprised, and so grateful. This gift is the most thoughtful thing ever. No joke.” 
She knows what I’m thinking… 
Jungwon frowns and steps even closer. He’s so close and she’s so pretty, teary eyelashes gleaming in the morning sunlight. “So you’ve known what I’ve been thinking, huh?” 
“I have.” 
The hard, challenging tone that seeps into her voice is all too familiar to Jungwon. When she leads him into her house for the second time in his life, all he’s thinking is, what a way to reminisce the moment he fell in love with her. 
“You wouldn’t get it.”
“Oh, but I do!” 
A game of wits, you could call it, is what sixteen year old them are playing. Head to head in number of points, they’re competing for first place. Jungwon hides behind his whiteboard, eagerly awaiting her response. She’s never going to guess what he had in mind. She’ll never write the same exact thing, letter for letter— 
“I know what you’re thinking.” She whispers mockingly, smirking as she reveals her answer while peeking over the top of his board. The answers match up. She’s won. “I know exactly what goes on in your head.”
OPERATION 4 : CATCH SOME FELINES (FEELINGS) : SUCCESS!
no push and pull, gonna run to you ; our chemistry yeah, i'm in too deep now no push and pull, no regrets, gonna zero in on you ; never holding back straight ahead, yeah 
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this time, i want!
more of my works >
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xzhdjsj · 3 days
Text
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Sakuverse Characters Walking in on You Watching a ✨️Spicy Film✨️
Warning: NSFW!!!
Includes: Andrew, Isaac, Xanthus, Elias
Sooooo this is an idea I got from a recent ask I saw from @ilovegureshin (I hope you don't mind me tagging you). Since there's only 4 chars, I may do a pt. 2 in the future🦦
This is warm up for pt. 2 of that Zaros fic CUZ I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FULL SMUT BEFORE AND IDK WTF I'M DOING YALL
Anways as always, I hope you enjoy😌🫶
‼️ Repost cuz my dumbass deleted the original while editing🙄 We back to being hrny on main tho!
-
Andrew
Andrew is late today, maybe it's traffic, maybe he's just working a bit overtime but in the end you were the one being subjected to torture.
It's been a rough day, and you couldn't wait to get home to him. A bad day is always mendable when your boyfriend knows how to make you feel good. But given he's not home before you today, your next best option was your own hands and something to get your imagination going.
You're sitting on your knees, legs spread apart just a bit and your headphones comfortably shielding you from the noises outside. Your laptop is placed infront of you, theres two character on the screen a blonde and a brunette with a similar body type as Andrew's. You don't reach for these kinds of vides often, more like you don't need to, but sometimes the wait is too much. As the couple in your screen get more and more handsy with each other, you can't help but imagine the way Andrew touches you, the way his hand would ghosts over your thighs, or just gently touch your sides all in his attempts to rile you up. You miss him so much right now but the show must go on.
Your hands move from caressing your skin, making its way between your legs, slowly palming yourself through your undergarments.
You lost track of time, forgetting that soon your boyfriend would be home. Though it was too late for that.
Andrew knew something was up when you didn't greet him at the door like you usually do, and when the calls for your name went unanswered. What he didn't expect was to be greeted by such a... surprise.
Your back is facing the door, and you couldn't hear him through your headphones. He takes a quick glimse at the screen and grins, making his way over to the bed. He, very casually, walked up behind you and turns your face to the side so he can kiss you. You're quickly knocked out of your daze and slam the laptop shut as you scramble at the sheets.
"Andrew!"
"No 'Welcome home' hugs for me today? Although I must say this might be a better welcome after a long day."
Isaac
Sometimes when Isaac works really late you "go to bed early because you're tired", he doesn't come out of his office for hours so you have adequate time to relief yourself without disturbing Isaac. Tonight in particular, you felt completely disoriented. You couldn't get any work done and it was hard to focus. So when you couldn't take it anymore, you faked a yawn and excused yourself for the night. Isaac promised he'd be in bed with you soon, but knowing him "soon" meant at least another hour or two.
So you take advantage of the time, setting up your laptop next to you, and stripping away your clothes. Even though the volume of the video was lowered, your voice was not. Not that Isaac can hear you all the way in his office anyways. Your laboured breaths and soft moans echo the room. You take your time to rid the stress from your body, and your once soft moans increasing in volume as you get closer and closer.
Only for your body to stiffen at the three curt knocks on the door. You close the laptop quickly and pull your blanket over your body. He opens the door slowly, moving just a single step inside.
"Sorry, I uhm... I heard you through the door and- and I was going to leave, I promise! But you sounded so... good."
He's looking down at the floor, a hand on the back of his neck as he explains himself. The way the fabric of his pants stretched to accommodate his erection was obvious and maybe you didn't need your laptop anymore for tonight.
You drop the blanket from your body, crawling to the edge of the bed.
"Come here with me Isaac."
Xanthus
It was no accident. Not when you knew he could hear the video playing in your screen and the way your heart rate quickens.
You're spread out on your and Xanthus' bed, with a random video playing in the background. You didn't really care for the video, it was just there to hold your plan together and make your actions as obvious as you can. It was all just a ploy to get his attention. You knew that he knew that too, and at some point he'd give in and come find you.
You started off discreet, faintly running your hands up and down your body. It got your blood pumping as your heart rate increased, but when that didn't draw him to you, caution was thrown right out the window and you fully indulged yourself in what you could be feeling. Your voice bounced off the walls and he could definitely hear you loud and clear now. Your eyes are squeezed shut, one hand supporting your weight behind your back, the other between your legs.
Your eyes flicker open at the sound of your laptop being slammed shut.
Your pulled at the blanket, barely covering your body at all as you feigned shame.
"Xanthus, I didn't hear you come in."
"Yeah I'm sure the door being open was also part of your plan wasn't it?" He's standing at the end of the bed, eyes completely shadowed over with lust.
"I don't know what you mean." You lie.
"Don't play dumb with me, you love testing my patience don't you?"
"Perhaps"
"Brazen, but you might just regret starting this."
He crawls onto the bed towards you, clawing at the bottom of the blanket ripping it from your grasp and exposing your body.
Elias
There isn't much to do in the safe house, especially when you're alone. Being with Elias all the time is great and you love it, but having some time apart to be by yourselves was also nice. What you planned to do with your time today was one you definitely wanted to be alone for.
You lifted your laptop from the nightstand, placing it infront of you and scrolling to find the videos you favourited. There was a select few that you enjoyed, especially because you could imagine yourself in those scenarios, only now you could also picture someone as the other person in the videos.
Elias was all the way in his room, probably playing games or sleeping, whatever it was you hope it kept him in there for as long as possible. Once you're all prepared, you set the laptop down and kicked off your pants, leaving only your shirt and underwear on. Your eyes are set on the screen, watching and replicating the way the character's hand moved on the other. Your shirt is hiked all the way up, caught between your teeth so you hands could freely access your chest. All you could think of is Elias and if he'd also touch you this way. Surely if you asked, he wouldn't say no to you right?
Your other hand reaches down to the fabrics hugging your pelvis, fingers slipping inside to touch yourself.
But you're pulled to reality when the door knob creaks and Elias comes into view.
"Hey babe, do you wanna- Shit!"
You immediately tug your shirt down and make a high pitched sound and Elias quickly rushes right back out the door.
"I'm sorry!" He yells from outside. "I didn't know and your door was unlocked- Jeez I really am sorry!"
You body drops onto the bed, silently cursing yourself for not locking the door.
"It's okay." You tell him. "Did you need something?"
He's quiet for a moment before speaking again.
"Can I come back inside?"
You swallow hard at his request, pulling your blanket over your lower body.
"Yeah, sure"
The door slowly opens and Elias steps inside.
"Sorry, you look really fucking hot right now and I can't get it out of my head." He confesses and you're dumbstruck.
"Elias I uhm-"
"If this is too much for you, tell me to leave now, else I don't plan to." He cuts you off.
"Don't. I don't want you to leave"
"Good."
Before you knew it, his shirt is on the foor and your arms are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you.
"Were you thinking of me?" He asks.
"....yeah"
-
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Note
Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”
Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D
Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3
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ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!
PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)
PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x afab!reader
ᴡᴄ: 4194 words
ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.
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☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽
A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.
You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.
However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.
Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!
You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.
“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.
You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.
“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.
“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”
So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.
You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”
The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”
Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.
You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”
A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.
“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”
It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.
“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.
Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.
His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.
“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”
Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.
And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.
The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?
“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay. 
“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?” 
Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.
The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look. 
Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.
The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.
“Could that be it?”
A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.
“I assume that could be it-”
“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”
Immediately, his attention is  back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”
A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”
You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”
His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”
Again, you shook your head.
“Lower.”
He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.
“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”
Click - the trap was snapping shut.
It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”
Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?
“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”
“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.
“I dunno…wet?”
His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!
“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”
He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”
Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.
“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”
Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!
“Oh! And…how does that work?” 
Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.
“I-”
“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.
“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”
You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.
“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.
The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?” 
Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds. 
“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further. 
“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”
The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.
He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.
His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?
“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.
His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.
He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.
Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.
 You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.
It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.
You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.
“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”
Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.
“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.
The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.
Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?
You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”
A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.
His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.
“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.
Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.
Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.
The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.
The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.
“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.
You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.
As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.
You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.
“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“
He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.
The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.
His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.
He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.
Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.
Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.
Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.
“I am glad I was able to help.”
Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?
“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”
Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap
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