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#back when i worked out and was pretty strong
elllisaaa · 3 days
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i’m not the biggest fan of pools and such but jake is soo the type to splash water on you in order to make you get in so he can see you all wet and eventually make out with you 🙄
imagine BROTHER'S BFF!JAKE who is spending every summer at your house since your teenagers years because your parents have a pool. however, since you were older than your brother heeseung, you left for college before them. jake missed you, because he had a crush on you, but also because you were someone he truly trusted and appreciated. now, the only time when he got to see you was when you would come back for holydays. and he took advantage of that and of the fact that you were single to flirt with you every chance he got. and it didn't matter if you rejected him every time because he could see the faint smile on your face.
so when jake learned that your parents will leave this summer but that you would be here, he was over the moon because it was finally his chance to seduce you. and truth be told, you had already been charmed a long time ago. but jake was younger, even if it was just one year, and mostly, he was your brother's best friend. it should be wrong, but the way he was eyeing you ever since you laid down on your deckchair, letting the sun hit your uncovered skin. and jake was glad he was in the pool and you couldn't see how hard he was in his swimsuit only because you were wearing the skimpiest bikini known to mankind.
heeseung left earlier because he was working tonight, leaving you and jake alone. and he knew it was his chance to do something about his aching dick and the fat crush he had on you since middle school. "hey, y/n." you hummed as you sat up, but before you could even take off your sunglasses to take a proper look at him, he splashed water at you. you gasped at the fresh liquid hitting your warm skin. but a second after, you were throwing your glasses to the side and jumping in the pool to get back at him. you tried your best to splash water at each other, trying to push his head underwater but you forgot that he's been overpowering you for quite some time because he had started working out - and he looked a little too good too. so you weren't even surprised when he succeeded in pining you against the pool wall, his breathe hitting your lips from how close he was too you, his eyes dipping into your clevage.
"got you, pretty girl." - "it's not fair, you're too strong now." - "i'm not a kid anymore." you knew that, better than he could ever imagine since he was the only thing you could think about when you were touching yourself, imagining it was his fingers reaching deeper into you, imagining it was him eating you out with this tongue of his that he was only sticking out when you were making fun of him. jake noticed how your gaze darkned, how your eyes zeroed on his lips. "yeah, i know. you're much more than that."
you didn't know if you kissed him first, or if he did, but it didn't matter when he was devoring your mouth like that, holding you by your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. the friction between his obvious hard on and the thin material of your bikini bottom felt so good you both moaned into each other mouth, your nails digging into his muscular shoulders as he started to grin against you.
"fuck, you feel so good pretty, i knew you would, been wanting this, wanting you for years." - "shit ! me too jakey, i need you so bad." jake groaned in his deep voice that always made you wet as he slid his hands under the soaked material of your top, gropping your breast harshly. he relished in the way you were already whining out his name, holding onto him. and he needed to hear more of them, to taste more of you.
"sit on the edge baby, i want a taste of your pretty little pussy." you didn't questionned his request, nor did you think about the nieghbords when you did what he wanted, and let jake push the piece of clothing covering your cunt aside, and dive into your wetness. and nothing else mattered, nothing else beside the way jake was gripping your plush thights, nothing else beside the way jake was lapping at your cunt and sucking on your clit, whimpering against your fold because he was already addicted to you. and it was needless to mention that both of you were glad that your brother worked tonight.
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angel5ofp0rn · 2 days
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pt. 7 😋
ExHusband!Price x f!reader
*still bad at writing smut. jus pretend i wrote something good… also im sorry!!!!
DIDNT REREAD AT ALLLL JUST STARTED TYPING SO PLZ BE PATIENT 🥺
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You’re already awake when John's eyes finally begin to blink open, his first sight being the back of your head.
You’re fidgeting with his wedding band again, gently tracing your thumb over the engraving as you hold his left hand that’s slung over you.
"Mornin’..." He mumbles once he finally stops blinking, his eyes slowly coming into focus again as he realizes that you're awake. He sees you toying with his wedding band, which makes him smile as he watches.
“Hey there.” You smile, finally removing your hand from his.
You turn to lie on your back so you can see him better.
The regret of letting him stay after ruining your date had started to set in… but the memory of what the two of you did last night helped blur the lines.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask quietly. John’s eyes are studying your face with a lazy smile on his lips.
“God, y’r so beautiful.” John whispers, eyes locked on yours.
Your cheeks flush pink, though you have no idea why he still has that effect on you.
Your hands move to your face, covering your blushing cheeks with a laugh.
John laughs too, prying your hands away from your face. “Just lemme look at you, lovey. I can’t get enough.”
John manages to remove your hands and pin them above your head with one hand while his other hand cupped your face, turning you towards him. He presses kisses from your temple down to your jaw, then to your neck.
You squirm under him when his lips move back up and get close to yours; you turn your face away from him.
“Is something wrong..?”
“Morning breath.” You mumble. John chuckles, turning you back to your side and pulling you close by your hips.
“We can work aroun’ it.” He murmurs in your ear, his hardness pressing against your ass. You can’t help but to giggle when John starts to dry hump you like a horny teenager. It’s fun for you to see him like this recently; it’s like he’s been trying to make up for lost time.
Though your giggles quickly turn into a gasp when the head of his thick cock pushes your lips apart, slowly pushing in. John’s big arms are wrapped around you in a bear hug as he thrusts into your still sore cunt.
A strong hand grips your thigh, lifting your leg so he can get a better angle. A deeper fuck.
You can’t do much but moan and whimper as John takes what he wants— not that you’re not enjoying it.
“That’s right, lovey, that’s it-” John talks you through your climax, but not slowing down on your behalf. His grunts and your moans fill the room; your eyes roll back when John finally does come… You whine a bit when he begins to pull out, which makes him laugh softly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I miss you when you pull you.” You pout. “Can’t we just nap with it in?”
John snorts.
You look up at him when he finally sits up and stretches.
“Staying for breakfast..?”
John looks relieved when you ask him to stay.
“Making breakfast.” He grins before he leans down and finally steals a kiss despite your morning breath warning. “Lemme get the kids up.”
You watch as John stands up and pulls on a pair of joggers before heading out to the hall. He’s clearly comfortable being back in his old house.
Your eyes widen when you see the evidence of last night; red scratch marks over his back, bite marks on his shoulders.
You quickly pull on John’s boxers from the floor and a hoodie from the hamper, and follow after him with his t-shirt in hand.
John freezes for a moment as he feels your hands pull the shirt over his head. He looks back at you with a questioning look.
"What're you doing?" He says this with a confused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow.
"Marked you up pretty good." You blush, rubbing his back gently after his shirt is on. You give his butt a pat and heard towards your youngest’s bedroom.
“She still a grump in the mornings?” John asks.
“Not when her daddy’s home.” You shrug.
Home.
•••
“You’ve gotta let her go at some point.”
John looks up at you in the doorway from where he’s sat on your youngest’s toddler bed. It was practically a chair for him due to his stature.
“Right…” John looks back down to your youngest who, sleepy after her bath, is fast asleep in his lap. Her damp hair is combed out of her face and her cheek is pressed right up against John’s chest
“I just, eh… I’ve missed a lot of her life, haven’t I?”
“She’s still little.” You reassure him. “There’s still time.”
John stands up slowly and is gentle when laying her back on the little bed. He pulls the covers up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her head.
After John joined you in the doorway, he crosses his arms as he swallows back a small lump in his throat, thinking about the years that had passed and the time he lost with his kids and you.
Only seeing you two days a week just wasn’t enough.
You rub John's arm gently. He's normally not a very affectionate or emotional man, but he has a soft spot when it comes to his family.
John looks at you with watery eyes.
"You big softie." You tease, knowing he's really anything but.
"Alright." John rolls his eyes at you and grins as the two of you make your way back to the bedroom.
John sits at the edge of the bed and you sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You could tell the guilt was eating at John, for missing out on the kids first few years.
“You’re a great dad, John.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “You know that, right?”
John sighs.
“You are.” You smile softly, one arm now around his neck and the other hand on his chest. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else to have babies with.”
John chuckles at that. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm.” You nod. “I’d still have 98 more with you.”
John's eyes shift up to meet yours once you say that.
He raises an eyebrow at first as he takes a moment to process that... but then, he eventually laughs. "You’re crazy…" His smirk widens a bit, and he moves his thumb along your jawline now.
"What if we have another?" You practically whisper.
"You’re not serious…” John shakes his head slowly.
“I think it’d be wrong not to.” You fake a little pout. “Have you seen our babies? They’re gorgeous.”
“You want to keep having babies with me, is that it? More mini-me’s running around?”
“I do.” You nod, you face moving closer to his. You smile when your lips meet, just barely brushing against each other.
John smiles back. "Well, I'm not gonna deny you..." His grin widens a little now as he stands, you in his arms.
He tosses you gently onto the bed.
You grab the front of his shirt and pull him into you.
•••
After a few hours, the two of you had moved from the bed to the floor, the bathroom counter, and now you are in the kitchen having a water break.
The two of you, sweaty, out of breath, and exhausted, look at each other grinning ear to ear as you sip your waters.
You’re stood across from John with a robe on and your legs crossed, as a precaution.
John has just his boxers on as he finishes his water and looks at you, leaning back against the kitchen island.
"Feeling a little uncomfortable, love?" He says this as he notices the little way that you're standing, and then he gives a smirk.
"Forgot how messy it is." You confess with flushed cheeks.
John hums in acknowledgment and pulls you into his arms, kissing you softly; a nice change of pace.
He lets the kiss hold for a bit longer than a usual peck before finally letting go and gently squeezing your rear as he pulls away.
"You need anything from me right now lovey?" He asks with a soft look.
"I want you to move back in."
John pauses for a bit after you make this request. He stays quiet as he blinks, looking surprised as he hears this.
"Really?" He asks, wanting to make sure he heard you correctly.
Part of him thought that he'd have to beg for this.
"If you were serious about wanting us to do this again, then I want to do it for real. You're moving back in to our house, we're sleeping back in our bed, and we're being a family again."
“You mean that?” John asks cautiously.
You nod. “But I’m keeping our no fighting rule. You have to communicate with me, John.”
“Anything, love. I’ll do anything you ask.”
Your smile grows at how eager he is to get back together. “You’re stuck with me now, Johnathan Price.”
John just laughs, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you into a another kiss.
Your arms are draped around his neck when you’re set back on your feet.
“I’ve missed this.” You admit quietly.
“I’ve missed you.” John counters. His smile suddenly falters a bit when he speaks again. “But we should really talk about it more, figure it all out before we rush into it.” He runs his hand over his beard.
"We can talk it over tomorrow..." You slowly undo your robe, keeping your eyes on him.
John watches you undress slowly, his eyes glued to your every movement. He continues looking at you throughout the whole process.
Once the robe hits the floor, John lets out a soft groan and looks you over.
You hook your fingers into his waistband, pulling his hips closer to you.
John smirks as you pull him closer to you, and he lets himself get pulled in willingly. His hands move to your ass, giving it a squeeze.
"Again? What're you doin' to me, lovey..."
•••
You look up from brushing your teeth and notice John waiting in the doorway of the washroom.
“Missed me that much?” You tease. “I thought you’d be asleep by now…”
John shakes his head, looking just as wrecked as you felt. “Wanna talk to you first.”
You glance at him again, noticing his suddenly stoic expression.
“Sure,” You nod, following him into the bedroom. The two of you sit at the edge of the bed, next to each other. You instantly get a sick feeling in your stomach by seeing how anxious John looks.
He sighs, closing his eyes tightly as he gathers up the courage to just say it.
"There's something I didn't tell you, that night…" John hesitates before continuing, the silence between the two of you becoming deafening.
He remains silent for a moment longer, trying to find the perfect way to word this to you.
You don't speak.
You think back to the fight that lead to you wanting a divorce.
His job had kept him away for months at a time, that's what started it.
You felt like every time he came back, he was more and more distant. Then you found a plane ticket back to London.
You accused him of cheating, and he couldn't prove you wrong.
John's voice gets quiet as he takes another deep breath.
"That night... I didn't cheat on you. I did keep something from you, but not because of that.” He opens his eyes and looks at you for just a second before he goes back to looking down at the floor.
“Then what was it?” Your voice was strained as you tried to coax the truth out of him. "Just tell me what it was so we can try to move past it.”
“I have a… I have a child. A son, back in London.”
You froze.
Your stomach sank.
You couldn’t even speak.
John sits quietly and waits for you to say something, anything.
"How old?" You ask softly, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your "no fighting" rule.
"He's ten..." He hesitates again, unsure of just what else to add.
You let out a shaky breath. Ten. He’s older than your oldest, meaning that he wasn’t a result of John cheating on you...
You finally open your eyes , ready to look at him.
"Why... Why wouldn't you tell me that you had a child from before we met?"
John sighs again, not expecting you to be this levelheaded about things. He was expecting something much different from this.
“I was afraid.” John admits. He pauses to look away briefly before continuing. "I… I just kept trying to find the right time, the right way to say it to you..."
"...were you with his mother when we met?"
The question catches him off guard, you could see it on his face.
"Yes... I was..."
"I'm gonna be sick." You get off of the bed and stand up.
John immediately stands as well, watching you as you stand and start to walk away from him.
"Wait-" He quickly grabs your arm to stop you, unsure if you're going to the bathroom to be sick or just not look at him anymore.
You pull your arm from his grasp
"You were with her and had a child with her and yet you still took me home from the bar that night? You still fucked me the next day?"
“…yes.” He sighs, still avoiding eye contact. His voice drops to almost a whisper.
"And then you... would say you were at work and instead visited them? Were you still fucking her?!” You tried not to raise your voice, more for the sake of the children than for John.
John tries his best to not get angry, but he's fighting back a lot of emotions now, primarily frustration with himself. He stays quiet for a few long moments, unsure of what to say. He rubs his eyes and then speaks again, trying to find the right words.
“…no, I wasn’t fucking her. I haven’t cheated on you, I want that to be clear.”
"I'm having a hard time believing you." You admit bitterly, crossing your arms. “You and I were divorced for two years; you came back for one night and we’ve been fucking ever since.”
“Wasn’t like that with her.” John insists with a curt shake of his head.
"Why didn't you just tell me the night we met? Or the next morning?"
He stays silent again as he thinks about that very question. He takes in a long breath and then finally answers, his voice still a bit quiet.
"I didn't think you would have given me a chance if you knew the truth..." John says softly, starting to feel some resentment towards himself start to build up.
"The truth being that you had a girlfriend and a baby back home, and were fully planning on cheating on her."
John remains silent.
He didn't know how to argue with that.
He knew it was true. He knew he was being selfish at the time, but he just couldn't let you go after that night. He couldn't explain it.
"Or was she your wife? Fuck, I feel like I don't know anything about you!" Your voice cracks as the tears start forming.
John can hear how hurt you are in your voice, and he hates seeing you like this. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew that you wouldn’t let him.
Not when it was his fault that you were like this.
"Six years, John. You've had six years to tell me about this." You keep your arms crossed tightly, trying to stop the angry jitters.
John doesn’t speak.
"How often do you see them?" You ask suddenly, your breath shaky.
"Not often," John answers earnestly. He rubs his face as he tries to continue.
"I only see them once a month, maybe... Every few months, at least. I just go over to spend time with my son..." His words get a little stuck in his throat, feeling the guilt eat away at him like a virus.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"About a month ago..." John says softly, his voice sounding just a little bit sad as he mentions how long it's been since he's seen his son.
Your eyes widen.
He had to have just come back from seeing them when he came to shovel the driveway.
John notices how your eyes widen at what you just heard. He immediately looks down, feeling even more shame wash over him.
"You... You're-" You rub your eyes, feeling like I'm about to lose it on him.
John keeps quiet, waiting for the worst to come from this.
If you want to yell at him, if you want to throw things, hit him, kick him out again, he wouldn't blame you at all for any of it.
He'd take it all on the chin if it meant that he could get the opportunity to fix things.
Instead, you just cry.
Sobbing, shaking.
John has had a secret family for the last eight years and kept it a secret from you for the entire six years you’ve known each other.
Your children have a sibling they've never met, but their dad spends time with pretty often.
You’re gutted.
John's reaction to your crying is instant. He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you as you cry.
He knows that nothing he could say right now could make your pain go away, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he still tries his best.
"...I'm sorry, lovey… I’m so sorry," He whispers. He tries to think of anything else to say, but that's all he can say, all he has right now.
John rubs your back as he holds you close to him, still trying to wrap his mind around everything.
John feels your grip around him tighten as you continue to cry, and he squeezes you tight too, not wanting to let go. Just letting you cry against his chest, rubbing your back lightly as he continues trying to process all that just happened.
John rests his chin on your head, his voice raspy when he finally speaks again.
“That night we met… I left your flat knowing that I had to leave her for you; it was love at first sight. I needed to be yours, love. I needed you to be mine.”
You finally pull out of his embrace.
You wipe your tears off of your face and try to steady your shaky breathing.
"You should... You should sleep on the couch."
John watches as you pull away from him.
He's speechless.
He was expecting more... For you to kick him out all together, to tell him to go back to his own place...
But instead you're just calmly telling him where he should sleep.
John nods slowly. He doesn’t fight. He walks downstairs without another word.
You don't even want to be in your bed, where John and you have been sleeping together.
Instead you quietly go into your youngest’s bedroom and scoop her up, carrying her into your oldest’s bedroom and crawling in beside him in his twin bed, holding both of your children close.
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g1rld1ary · 3 days
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the way i see you ; remus lupin x reader
➻ synopsis: you're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. they finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper
➻ word count: 4346
➻ content: swearing, allusions to sex, gryffindor reader but literally mentioned once, no pronouns but implied to be fem reader, kissing, no war AU!!
➻ the remus brainrot is strong rn
════ ⋆★⋆ ════
You were an artist, you had been the whole time the boys knew you. Even in first year as a shy eleven year old, you were always scribbling away in a little sketchbook that lived in the big pockets of your robes. The hobby only developed as you got older, expanding mediums and filling countless sketchbooks. When you weren’t studying (or even when you were supposed to be) it was almost a given that you’d be working on a piece somewhere, far from the prying eyes of others.
Your friends caught glances of your art sometimes, doodles on the corner of your essays or notes, maybe a stray page left out in your dorm which told them you were good, but you never ever willingly let them see it. They didn’t know why, truthfully, you didn’t know either, but it had always been that way and everyone had more or less accepted that.
“Have you ever drawn me?” Sirius asked one afternoon as you all sat out by the Black Lake, cocky grin on his face.
“’Course,” You answered simply, moving to turn back to your conversation with Remus.
“Wait, really?”
“Well you have to have drawn me then, right? Can’t just be Padfoot!” James cut in quickly, making you laugh, nodding.
“Before everyone starts asking, lets just establish that I’ve drawn all of you at some point, okay?” You thought that would calm them down, but it only riled them up further, much to your chagrin.
“And you haven’t shown us?” Marlene cried dramatically.
“I deserve to see you capture my beauty!” Sirius collapsed in an exaggerated performance and you couldn’t decide whether you were amused or embarrassed, giggling and hiding your face in Remus’ shoulder. He merely pat you on the shoulder, shooting you a fond gaze you couldn’t see. James caught it though, and smirked in a way that Remus knew he was about to be embarrassed.
“Have you drawn Moony?” He asked, and you both looked at him suddenly.
“Padfoot, don’t,” Remus said sternly, then turning to you, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer… I know they must ruin the picture.” He gestured down to his scars. You just looked at him for a moment, utterly baffled.
“As if some silly scars would stop me from drawing you,” You said, a sweet smile on your lips, “You’re my biggest inspiration, Moony.” He blushed at that but the rest of your friends tactfully ignored it, though the boys shot him some shit-eating looks.
It was probably true that you drew Remus the most, but it was only because you spent the most time with him! Or, that’s what you told yourself anyway. Remus Lupin was your best friend in the world, and you loved him more than anything. Since you were always together and hanging out, clearly you’d draw him more, it was perfectly natural!
Your study sessions together in the library often devolved quickly, essays abandoned to the side, both of you falling into chatter as you studied and sketched him.
“What’re you drawing, dove?” He’d always ask, knowing you’d never tell. You’d simply press your lips into a cheeky smile, shaking your head resolutely.
“Uh-uh,” You’d say, “An artist never reveals her secrets.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s magicians, stupid,” He laughed, running a hand through his curls.
“Oh,” You frowned, “Well I’m that too, aren’t I?”
“Hardly,” He snorted, “Your essays are more doodles than writing.”
“Hey, Slughorn gave me a whole extra mark for the portrait I drew last week, so none of that.”
Or you’d follow him out of the pub you were all in when Remus needed a smoke, sitting on the blacked out window ledge as he lit up. You thought he might have been the most beautiful person in the world when he smoked, the way the lighter brought out the gold flecks in his eyes and hair and the shadows of night emphasised his unreal bone structure. You’d probably drawn him in that exact scenario hundreds of times, but it wasn’t your fault he looked like a fallen angel. When he leaned over to give you a puff you took it gratefully, if only for the proximity. You weren’t much of a smoker, but for Remus you’d let your lungs rot.
It was moments like that where you’d wonder what it would be like to kiss him, lean past the cigarette and put your mouth on his. Sometimes you thought he wanted it too, the way he’d get slightly too close for best friends, his own hand being the one to stick the dart into your mouth, sometimes so close your lips brushed his fingers. Moments like that made you wonder if he loved you back. Then later, when everyone was drunker, you’d see him stick his tongue down some prettier girl’s throat and you’d remember your place as his best friend. If it stung you tried not to show it, letting some sleazy guy a few years older than you buy you drinks until Peter told you it was time to leave.
Still, you were mostly alright with just being friends with Remus. You still got most of the benefits; his conversation, his dry humour, the ability to look at his gorgeous face. Who needed everything else? Plus, you could draw him whenever you wanted, doing whatever you wanted — not in a weird way. Mostly. You still would never admit that you’d drawn him holding your hand, or kissing you, or other things you desired… The magic of art, right?
After years of bugging, you finally submitted to your friends constant nagging. The day that you officially graduated Hogwarts was an emotional one. Seven years of constant laughter and magic (both literal and the sentimental kind) were over, and the world seemed too large and intimidating compared to the familiar walls of your school. Yet there was no stopping it, and you were all Hogwarts graduates.
While all your parents cried and reminisced over coffee in the Great Hall, your friends had gone for one last deep conversation by the Black Lake. Discussions of the future were unavoidable, but were mostly positive. Talks of trips you’d take, apartments you’d live in and hell you’d raise. When you all quietened down slightly, struck by it being the last time you’d sit in front of the lake, you cleared your throat.
“Um, I have something for you guys, a graduation gift.” From your purse you pulled the envelopes, all filled with fancy cardstock from the art shop near your family home. You’d drawn a simple grey-lead portrait of each of your friends, framed with a little message of congratulations. You watched anxiously as they each opened the envelopes, nervous all the hype would make the art seem inconsequential. Your fear couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Sirius gasped dramatically as he saw what it was, but a genuine smile followed straight after. James burst straight into tears, hardly getting the picture all the way out. You could tell Lily was trying not to follow, but seeing her boyfriend cry set off the waterworks for her. Marlene and Mary were inspecting the others, pointing out the little details you’d put in, like Mary’s favourite daisy earrings or the slit Marlene had impulsively shaved into her eyebrow only a few weeks before. Peter was bright pink, flattered to the highest degree. Remus was hard to read, simply staring at you with the strangest look in his eye. You couldn’t ask him about it though, being ambushed with hugs from every direction.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this talent from us,” Peter said, the rest agreeing.
“Didn’t know we had our very own Da Vinci hiding behind a Gryffindor tie,” Marlene added, making you blush and grin.
You dreaded to imagine what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective, the eight of you teary, sweaty messes all piled on top of each other. Well, seven of you.
“Come on, Moony,” James called in a sing-song voice, “If you can’t submit to a hug at our graduation I am going to give you the biggest, slobberiest kiss and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.
“You look like absolute wankers,” Was all he said, but joined the pile nonetheless, and you were extra glad he was mainly holding on to you. When you all finally pulled away it was minutes later, but the whole thing was strangely cathartic.
“We all have to promise that we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” Mary said, putting her pinky finger out. The rest of you agreed, sticking your pinkies in for a very convoluted eight way promise. With that sorted your friends started heading back up the hill to the school building, ready to leave Hogwarts forever and prepare for a long night of heavy drinking. Remus held you back. James sent you a suggestive glance when he noticed but left it that, drawing Lily in for a bittersweet kiss.
You turned to Remus, only for his eyes to be locked on the portrait. You’d spent so much time trying to get it perfect for him, practising the stupid knot he insisted on tying every day despite the rest of the school going with a less convoluted method of wearing their ties.
“Do you like it?” You asked, subconsciously twisting your ring around your pointer finger. Remus let out a half laugh.
“I love it, honest. It’s insane, really. That you can make this just like that. It’s just…” You searched his eyes for the rest of the sentence. “You make me look…” He didn’t finish but you knew immediately what he meant. Remus hated looking at himself, training his eyes down in the bathroom and opting to always be the photographer so he didn’t have to see himself in the final product. You knew of course it was because of his scars, but you genuinely couldn’t believe he thought they were ugly, much less made him ugly.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, just once,” You sighed, grabbing his free hand and interlocking your fingers, leading him back to where the others were waiting.
Four years out of Hogwarts and you’d all kept your promise. Of course you didn’t see each other quite as much as the boarding school schedule allowed, but the boys all had an apartment together which brought you together often enough — except James and Lily who were married and had moved down to Godric’s Hollow to raise baby Harry. That similarly brought you all to meet often, all determined to spoil Harry as his aunts and uncles.
You weren’t a full-time artist professionally, though you still did it just as much. You’d evolved to paints by then; living with a muggle because the rent was cheap had the added bonus of not having to worry about leaving your paintings on the easel since you didn’t really care what they thought about your art anyway.
Your friends were all huddled in the boys’ apartment living room, every seat taken as you all caught up. You were on the couch with Remus, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair as his head rested on your lap. You still weren’t dating, but Lily always said you might as well have been. You laughed her off every time — if he hadn’t said anything by now how could he feel the same way? You tried to pretend it didn’t still sting.
You’d tried dating, Remus too. He’d had countless partners since you’d finished school — even more one night stands. Nothing lasted more than a few months. You’d done slightly better, you made it about a year with some bloke that Remus hated before he revealed himself as a colossal dickhead, and you’d been mostly single since.
The group was trying to organise their next meeting.
“What about the movies next Friday? I wanna see that new muggle film, Knife Runner,” James suggested and you and Remus both snorted.
“Blade Runner, love,” Lily corrected with a giggle and James burst out laughing, making a quick joke at his own expense. You’d dug your planner out of your purse to check your availability and frowned, closing the book quickly.
“I can’t do next Friday, sorry, how about Saturday?”
“And what plans have you got on a Friday night, you minx?” Mary asked with wiggling eyebrows. Even Remus looked interested, which made your heart stutter.
“Just a work thing,” You answered quickly, not wanting to reveal the real reason.
“You lie like a rug!” Marlene yelled, sitting up from her spot on the floor. You winced, you shouldn’t have made an excuse that she could so easily disprove, being in the same department of the ministry. “What plans are you too embarrassed to tell us about, slag?” You laughed shortly, their assumptions were so completely off.
“It’s not what you think—”
“Not what you think my arse, who’s ‘Davis Show’ and why is he surrounded by hearts, you absolute tart!” Sirius cried, displaying the planner for everyone to see. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, wheezing as you looked at your friends’ faux-scandalised expressions.
“Look you twats, Davis Show isn’t a man. I’ve been invited to put my art in a show at the Davis Gallery down on Welking Road next week. I can assure you I’m not shagging a man named Davis.”
The whiplash was immediate, the gossip sniffing exchanged for celebrations, you couldn’t tell whose yelling was whose. Peter immediately ran to the kitchen for a bottle of champagne, passing glasses around the room. When the initial excitement wore down you were subjected to a million questions, and tried to answer each of them patiently.
“I can’t believe you weren’t gonna tell us,” Mary pouted and you sighed.
“You know how I get about my art,” You explained, “It’s not that I don’t love you all, obviously, it just makes me so nervous thinking about you guys all seeing my stuff.”
“You know we’re all coming now, right?” James said, wiping his glasses where the champagne bubbles had created smudges.
“You really don’t have to,” You put in quickly, “It’s so embarrassing.”
“Why won’t you let us appreciate you?” Marlene whined.
“It’s just, my art is like an extension of my soul. I don’t think I’d be able to recover if you didn’t think it was good.” Your friends grew rowdy at that, offended you’d even think they wouldn’t adore your art no matter what. You felt Remus put a hand on your thigh and gave him a weak smile, knowing he’d shut down the conversation if you wanted him to. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing though, especially when everyone was being so supportive. You figured everyone was so busy they’d forget it by the next week anyway.
Friday came, and you were a wreck of nerves. Although you’d sold pieces here and there throughout the years, this show would be the first time your art would be displayed as a collective, and you were terrified of rejection.
You’d figured your friends weren’t actually coming since none of them had really mentioned anything since. Apart from Lily, of course, who’d sent an owl to your desk that morning with a sweet good luck note and your favourite chocolate.
Even Remus hadn’t said anything when you went for coffee on your lunch break. That did puzzle you, you knew he would never go if he thought it would make you uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like him as your best friend to forget something so monumental in your life. You thought he was acting kind of weird though, more affectionate than he usually was. He kept looking at you longer than he should, and you wondered if you’d miscounted how far away the next full moon was. When you asked him about it he just brushed it off, looking down at his tea instead like he’d been caught.
“I love you,” He said and you laughed.
“I love you too, Lupin!” You cooed, patting him softly on the hand.
“You’re amazing, you know?” You arched a brow.
“What are you trying to make up for?” You asked suspiciously, giving him a once over to search for answers.
“Nothing, promise,” He smiled in a way that made your knees a little weak, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”
“You’re gonna give me an ego,” You grumbled, packing up your things to get back to work. As you parted ways he pressed a kiss down to your cheek and you stumbled. Remus was never this affectionate as a person — a pat on the back, a hug if you needed one, yes, but he was never one for casual platonic kisses. You figured it must have been his way to apologise for not coming to the art show? But he knew you didn’t mind, so what was he apologising for? You tried to shake it off and get back to work, but you couldn’t get your closeness out of your head.
Evening fell and you were setting up your stall before the other patrons came in. Rearranging the paintings until you were pretty much perfectly happy, you looked around, still not fully believing you were really here. People were filtering in, well dressed and chattering softly as young waiters handed out flutes of champagne. You straightened out your silky black skirt in an effort to look more presentable, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
At first things were slow, and you almost regretted not inviting your friends, if only so they could make your area look more interesting. And once you let that thought in, you kind of regretted not inviting them anyway. After all, they were the dearest people in your life and this was such a meaningful event to you.
You couldn’t think about that for long though since people had begun to filter over to you, making polite small talk as they admired your paintings. You tried to be energetic, smiling widely if you ever locked eyes with someone. However, deep down, you just wanted your friends.
A little old woman approached you for a while, wanting to know the meaning behind basically every painting and you told her happily, sharing the memories that inspired each work.
“Seems like you’ve got some true friends,” She said, “I hope you keep them close.” You agreed, thanking her profusely as she bought a landscape of the Whomping Willow.
It was growing closer and closer to closing, and honestly, it had been a wonderful night. Seeing the way that people reacted and interacted with your art was a magical experience, and changed the way you thought about it entirely. You decided that if you ever got the opportunity again, you’d want to share it with everyone else.
You were just moving to start packing up when you heard a myriad of gasps.
“What the fuck, dude?” The unmistakeable voice of Marlene McKinnon said from behind you. You whipped around to meet them, breaking into a cheek splitting smile.
“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, rushing over to scoop them all up into a hug.
“Fuck that, why didn’t you tell us that we’re your exhibition?” Sirius cried, running up to examine the paintings more clearly.
“And that they’re literally professional?” Peter added, eyes wide in wonder. You flushed red under their praise. If your friends thought your pencil portraits were good, they were nothing compared to your paintings.
Plus, every one of them was of your friends, or something sentimental to you all. Landscapes of Hogwarts, portraits of your friends, captured memories of long summer days, or life sketches from when you were all together. You watched them observe the paintings with nervous excitement, loving as they gave specific, personal compliments that only people who truly knew you could give.
“This our apartment,” Sirius said, pointing to one of your biggest pieces, “That’s our couch, the pillow Prongs has permanently ruined with butterbeer, that’s Moony!”
“There are a lot of paintings of Moony, aren’t there?” James whispered to you, wiggling his eyebrows. You flushed again. Sirius continued on, seeming (or pretending) not to have heard.
“We have to have this in the flat. Right boys?” Your eyes widened.
“Really?”
“For sure,” Peter said, “I’m buying this one too.” He gestured to one of him and James playing chess in the Gryffindor common room.
“And this is taking pride of place at home.” James pointed to a portrait of his and Lily’s wedding, and Lily similarly chose one of her and baby Harry. Marlene took one of her and Mary on the beach and Mary took one of the group at a house party. Half your paintings ended up being sold by the end of the night, and you couldn’t feel luckier. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Remus, who couldn’t keep his eyes off the paintings.
You shooed your friends out of the gallery once it really was closing time, and got to work packing away your things. You were deep in thought, reflecting on the wild day when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Remus, and he moved to help you put your things away, stacking the paintings between bubble wrap to protect them.
“These are really beautiful,” He said, “I mean, we knew you were talented but… these are seriously on another level.”
“Thanks, Remus.” You smiled, unable to make eye contact as you watched him handle all the paintings you’d done of him. Portraits like the others, but also studies of his hands — god you were obsessed with his hands — his profile, and one less than innocent picture of his back, scars resting over muscles. You probably shouldn’t have put that one out, but to be fair you didn’t know he’d see it.
There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Not uncomfortable, per se, but there were definitely things you both wanted to say that neither knew how to.
“Let me drive you home,” Remus settled on and you nodded, letting him help you load your work into the boot of his car. You sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on the dashboard to whatever radio station Remus had turned on. Remus stared straight ahead, knuckles pulled tight around the steering wheel.
“I’m really proud of you, you know. This whole show was incredible.” You went to thank him again but he kept talking. “I just wanted to know, um, there were a lot of paintings of me. I was just wondering why, why me?” You hesitated, unsure of what was going to come out of your mouth.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You decided on with a bit of a sigh.
“You’ve said that before, what does that mean?” Your breath hitched. You definitely didn’t intend for it all to come out tonight, but if you didn’t say it now you doubted you ever would.
“You are the most beautiful person I know, Remus. I mean, even aside from your personality — which we know I have to be at least somewhat a fan of after all these years — you’re totally fit. Your eyes, your hair, God, your fucking bone structure, you’re literally a walking renaissance painting. And I know you think your scars make you ugly, but you don’t know how turned on I get thinking about how they’d feel on my skin.” Shit, you probably should’ve stopped talking.
You hadn’t realised he’d parked while you were rambling, but now you were sitting outside his apartment and he was looking at you with eyes that looked more like the wolf than him.
“I turn you on?” He whispered, voice suddenly gravelly as he leaned closer in to you.
“More than anything,” You breathed, brain buffering at the feeling of his breath on your face. Suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and electric and not at all gentle. It felt like years of pent up frustration being let out all at once, and if he was anything like you, it probably was.
“Up,” He mumbled between kisses and you heard him undoing his seatbelt, hurrying to do the same. You barely disconnected to get out of the car, attaching yourself to his arm as he led the way up to the boys’ flat.
You made it up the three flights of stairs, not without Remus pushing you up against the stairwell wall to stick his tongue in your mouth, and stumbled straight into his bedroom, shedding layers as soon as the door was safely shut.
The next morning you awoke first, initially convinced you were dreaming when you saw him lying peacefully beside you. Eventually you rolled onto your side, ready to get out of bed for a glass of water when his nightstand caught your eye. There, in pride of place, was your graduation portrait of him, with a polaroid of the two of you stuck to the corner. Maybe he really had liked you as long as you’d liked him.
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rosedom · 1 day
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hey, hey, hey! i don’t know if you’ve done something like this before, but if you did, then you can just ignore it. so, um, insecure virgin ftm kuni, who’s specifically shy about being naked. then reader’s there, comforting him as he fucks the shit out of him, giving him all the pleasure he deserves. we basically give him comfort sex and say reassuring things to him. feel free to not acknowledge this if it isn’t up to your tastes!
it’s my first time requesting here, and i’ve read your works. you’re such a good writer, i swear.
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"an unnamed player has invited WANDERER to play . . . my gaze is no threat unto you
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!amab!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!wanderer, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, loss of virginity, reassurance + gratuitous praise, creaming + creampie, alluded aftercare .
A/N : this is so late . . but mmmmm this prompt was simply too sweet for me to pass up forever ><
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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You close your eyes, and the shirt comes off; you know, now, that Kunikuzushi is left entirely bare, perched hovering as he is above your lap. It falls to the floor—somewhere—with an audible thud.
“Don’t look.”
You laugh, kind, and theatrically cover your—already closed, thank you—eyes. “I’m not!” 
He sighs. “I just—” he cuts himself off with a groan, arms falling from where they were perched on your shoulders. “Ugh.”
“What izzit, Kuni?” you ask, adjusting yourself so one hand stays firmly covering both of your eyes, letting the other be free to rest on the bare swell of his hip. Your fingers draw soothing circles across his skin. “Talk to me.”
“I—” He tries to scoot off of you, but your hands, quicker than your brain can catch up to them, both shoot out to grab his shoulders, to keep him from moving away; however, it only serves to trip him up, to make him fall into your lap. Your eyes remain shut, even as you feel his heat emanating against your equally bare thighs, your bare cock.
He reaches for your wrist, takes it in shaky hand; and you softly smile. “I’m sorry, Kuni,” you repeat, sincere—because even as you want him, in every way, shape, and form, you want only what he will give: if that means you cannot touch, then that is okay, too. 
“Sorry, sorry—” you stammer, and you try to correct it, to lift him back up, but—you’re running blind, here, and your hands miss the mark, groping down his flanks in pitch darkness. He makes an aborted sound in his throat, loud without your vision to counteract it.
His breath leaves him in a shaky exhale, slow, whistling through his teeth, before he falls limply into you. You can feel the flutter of his open eyes against you, eyelashes brushing your neck, before he squeezes them shut, squeezes out a quiet, “You can look.”
“But—”
“Do it before I change my mind.” 
Since you've reached his hips, finally, you give his soft skin a dutiful squeeze. “I’m not looking until you're absolutely sure, sweetheart.” 
Kuni groans again. “I’m sure,” he says, quietly, belying the way he acts so offended, so impatient. “Just look already.”
You tip your head to the side, eyes still stubbornly closed. You're about to say something else—probably another, Are you sure?—, but Kuni grabs your wrists and forces one hand down between his legs, forces your palm against his warm cunt. Your fingers, helpless to his strong grip, dip, just-so, into the give of his hole.
“Kuni—”
“I-if you won't look,” he mumbles, pressing his hips into your touch, “then you can at least please touch.” (It’s cute, how he thinks he's commanding when your finger is sinking into the first knuckle, his cock swollen against your palm.)
Your eyes flutter open, at that, gentle gaze falling on his flushed embarrassment. You only look at his face, and you shake your one hand out from his in order to cup his ruddy cheeks. “Kuni, baby, you're so pretty.”
“I—”
You cut off his words with a soft kiss, breath hot against his lips. “You're beautiful,” you say, louder, absolutely sure, “and you feel perfect.” Not look, not yet; instead, you only nudge your finger in deeper, slick n’ right to the root, and you delight in his choked off whimper.
(As the physical heft of him is heavy in your grasp, heavy on your palm, so, too, is the mental weight of knowing that this is his first: that you are seeing him, taking him, in a way that nobody has before.
It’d almost be a surprise, really, had you not known him so well.)
When Kuni’s body only melts into you, though, with no sign of resistance, of not wanting this—you finally allow your eyes to drop down, and—and—oh.
Your breath leaves you in a quick exhale, fingers stilled where they’re buried in deep. “You’re—you’re really, really beautiful, Kuni,” you murmur, breathless, and you’re not exaggerating—not at all, because really? Kunikuzushi is the most gorgeous man you have ever set your eyes upon.
He’s all pale, unblemished skin—that is, save for the sweet little birthmark below his eye. Even the mole is as pristine as the rest of him, silky and smooth as the skin of his cheek that your palm rests against. Speaking of his eyes—God. They’re this gorgeous, deep indigo, pretty as the midnight sky, and they’re looking away from you, abash.
“Look at me,” you murmur, the irony not lost on you (after all, was it not him only minutes ago, asking you to look at him?). “Let me look at those pretty eyes while I open you up for me, yeah?”
“Don’t be so crass—” he says, aghast, eyes turning sharply to you; yet for all he gripes, his eyes are molten, the pitch darkness of his pupils swallowing up the twilight of his irises. 
You merely curl your finger, once, to quiet him. “I’ll be as crass as I want, beautiful.” You ease a second, a third finger into him, working him open in gentle motions that make him bite his lip, make him cry out into the scant space between your faces. His hands fall, weakly gripping at your sides in a desperate bid to anchor himself against these new feelings.
Speaking of new: “After all,” you go on to murmur, leaning in close and letting your whispers fall against his pink lips, “it’s your first time. I wanna make this good for you, sweet boy.” You punctuate your words with a gentle stretch, pulling your fingers apart and nudging your fingertips against his g-spot. 
He gasps out, “H-how did—mm—you know?” 
When your pinkie fingers begins to nudge at the edge of his filled hole, a crystalline tear falls from the waterline of his eyes, wide and—is that fear?
“Lucky guess,” you reply, letting your hand slip free of his cunt and kissing away his soft, whimpering mewl. “Is this okay?” Your thumb collects the tear, smearing it away between your flesh as you make it known that you are going at his pace, even while you tease and play it like you're in charge; because for all the power you hold, you would so easily relinquish it back to him. 
(A submissive, a bottom—they hold all the power, like this.
Especially your virgin Kuni.)
But all he settles on is a gruff, “Get on with it.” 
Smiling softly, you nuzzle your noses together, giggling when he kisses you for it. “‘m gonna make you feel so good,” you promise against his lips, kissing him once before you take hold of his hips, “gonna make your first time awesome.” 
And Kuni fucking giggles. 
“Aha!” You smile, wide, even while you lift him and his hand scrabbles to position your cock properly, cockhead kissing his own before it catches on his hole. “Got you to laugh, sweetheart.
Now,” you continue, letting him slip into your cock, inch by inch, “you gonna let me fuck you silly?” 
He nods, desperately, all pretenses lost to the heady stretch of your cock in him. There's a resistance, brief, there-and-gone, before your cock passes through and sinks right in to the hilt. Your balls press against his spread-wide labia, but you’ve hardly the mind to pay attention to your own cock right now—not when Kuni’s nails are biting into your shoulders, now, tears flowing down his cheeks in thick rivulets.
“Kuni—”
“Move,” he interrupts, voice wholly shattered, “move, move—”
And you do. 
“You're so perfect for me,” you murmur, lathering the praise on thick as you guide him, hands controlling his grinds as he rides your cock with all that inexperienced gusto that makes heat throb low in your gut. “You're taking my cock so well, sweet boy, fucking yourself like that—God, Kuni, you're everything.” 
At a shift in the angle of your hips, he moans loudly, your cockhead butting against his g-spot in a way that makes his legs give out. 
“Please,” he cries, indigo bangs plastered to his forehead. “I—I can’t—”
“It's okay.” His eyes go wide as you tip him back, pressing him into the pillows and thrusting in deep, cock hitting new spots and bullying its way ever deeper into him. “It's okay, Kuni, baby, I got you.
“You can.”
He begins to thrash his head side to side on the pillow, overwhelmed with the new sensations wracking his body, of your cock sliding in, out, in, out; but when you reach down to thumb at the hot jut of his cock, he’s a goner. 
“Cumming—!” he cries, pulling you down into him as his cunt creams around you, as he buried his face into your neck and helplessly sucks at your skin. The feeling of his orgasm, of the way he moans so prettily, of the simple knowledge that you were his first (and that you will be his last)—it all sends you toppling over your own edge, cock pulsing as you empty yourself inside him. 
You can feel his heartbeat thrum against you. “Oh, oh, Kuni,” you coo, finally, the two of you finally beginning to calm down, hearts synchronized. “You did perfect.”
He huffs at you, tired eyes looking at you through damp lashes. “I—” he coughs, then: “Thank you.” 
“You don't need to thank me, sweet boy,” you murmur, kissing him softly as your limbs begin to pleasantly ache. “Let me run a bath.” 
“You don’t have to.”
You roll your eyes, fond, slipping out of him with a slick squelch that makes you hiss, forces the air out of his chest. “I want to. C’mon,” you finish, lifting him up beneath his knees (because God knows he'll be too shaky on them should be standing himself) and taking long strides to the bathroom. 
Losing your virginity—it’s not always so cut and dry, so easy, but Kuni is glad to have lost it with you. So as the warm bath water eases his own limbs, he leans back into you with a sigh. “Thank you,” he whispers, hardly audible, always so scared to be forthright in his affection.
You smile, soft, and kiss the wet crown or his head; you say nothing else, but the relaxed heartbeat that Kuni feels thumping against his back is all the response he needs.
He’s glad you looked.
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yolo !! and anon, ur words r too kind ;; thank u <333 (‾◡◝)
15 MAY 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
211 notes · View notes
yan-critter · 2 days
Text
Yan!Childe x GN!Reader (Smut, Dubcon, Overstimulation, Stalking, No gendered terms but reader is receiving)
Childe, who is far too eager to finally be alone with you.
Cornered in some dingy backroom at the Northland Bank, his overzealous nature has him on you the moment the door closes.
☆-★-☆-★+☆-★-☆-★+☆-★-☆-★
His hands roaming, face immediately slotted into the junction of your neck as he huffs and pants. He groans at your scent, the warmth emanating from your skin. How pliant it is under his weight, practically welcoming him as the softness of your hips dents beneath his fingers.
He hopes you are equally receptive.
Before you can even figure out what's happening, how and when the harbingers apparent infatuation with you began, he has you on the floor.
You yelp, the swiftness of the movement leaving you even more confused than before. It's all so sudden! I mean, you've hardly even spoken to the man, much less expressed romantic interest, and now he's straddling you in some random storage closet with a lustful look in his eyes that you don't need to look.. down, to confirm.
Childe, on the other hand, has been waiting for this moment for months. First encountering you on an outing with Zhongli, he developed a keen interest in the cute local hopping around the market. He spiraled quickly thereafter, following you home, taking souvenirs from your belongings, even getting you a job somewhere within his reach (unbeknownst to you, of course). His obsession consuming his mind until it was clouded with thoughts of only you.
Honestly, he would've preferred something more official. Taking you home and properly wining-and-dining you until you willingly bared your body to him, for him to worship like it deserved. But when the opportunity arose, Childe's waning resolve crumbled and he simply couldn't pass up this chance to have you.
Seeing you finally where you belong, so adorable beneath him, brings a sense of euphoria that leaves the man reeling.
But he's sure he can find a way to get that high again. For both of you.
You squeal as his hands start to fumble with your clothing, and he rumbles a low growl at the noise. Always so cute for him, making such pretty sounds when he hasn't even started yet. His hands make quick work of your button up and he wastes no time, lips quickly securing around your nipples as the rough pads of his fingers explore your skin.
You whine, the heat building in your belly as he slurps loudly. Childe doesn't seem particularly experienced, but his hungry demeanor makes up for it. He's messy, drooling all over your chest like he can't get enough, nibbling and kissing the skin. You can't help but flush at the idea that he needs you that badly, almost greedy in his actions.
You squirm at the thought.
Childe pulls back at your writhing, deciding he's given your chest sufficient attention, now shining with remnants of his spit and dappled with hickeys and bites marks alike. He admires it proudly for a moment, before moving to slide down your pants.
You only manage a meager "Wait I'm not-" before he has his lips on yours, shushing you with a kiss. He pulls your pants down to your knees, slipping his hand between your legs and rubbing you through your underwear as his tongue works into your mouth. You whimper at the sensation, overwhelmed by it all. You're still not sure what's happening, but you have to admit you've always found Childe attractive, even if his playful charm is a little lost on you when he's acting like a feral dog.
He takes the chance to slip your pants and underwear off while you're lost in thought. Pulled out of your stupor, you scramble to stop him, grabbing at his scarred arms. Childe, of course, is unphased and doesn't even bother shaking you off in favor of focusing on undressing you. It makes sense, he is a harbinger after all, he's bound to be strong. But you feel a little hurt that he didn't so much as budge, the stark difference in strength wounding your pride.
With your clothes out of the way, he pulls you into another long kiss and spreads your legs. Your throat itches with the urge to breathe, but Childe quickly grips your jaw to stop you, amusement dancing in his eyes as you go lightheaded. Your eyes roll back ever so slightly, lips locked together, and he can tell you won't last much longer.
He finally relents, planting a quick peck on your cheek before leaning back. You look so delicious like that, starry-eyed and panting, and while he would love nothing more than to kiss you dizzy, he thinks he'd love your noises more. Lithe fingers tease the rim of your entrance, and he bites his lip as the first finger dips into your heat. You shiver at the intrusion, and he groans.
"Mousy little thing, aren't you? Only a single finger and you're shaking.." he mutters, and for a second you think he's talking to you. As your breathing begins to steady, you look down to answer him and instead find him staring at your heat, fascinated by the sight of his finger entering you.
But Childe has never been a patient man, and before long he's pumping three large fingers in and out of your squelching heat, curling just right to make you mewl. He's observant, noting every little bump and ridge within you that has you melting into his touch, bucking into your thigh as he watches you. Your back arches like a bow and you can feel the tight coil in your belly ready to snap. So close so close so close so-
"Oh no sweet thing, not yet", he coos, and before you can reach your peak, Childe pulls his fingers out with a satisfied hum. A sharp whine leaves you at the man's cruelty, but your complaints are cut short with the sound of his belt clanking to the floor. Your eyes widen, suddenly pulled out of your haze because it's all becoming too real now.
...And yet, you can't deny the spike of arousal as his length finally comes into view.
A slight curve, big even in comparison to his large hands, and a peachy pink at the end leaking dewy white pearls. It only occurs to you then that he had yet to relieve himself at all, neediness building in him the entire time from neglecting to focus on anything but you. It's flattering, really, having someone want you so unabashedly. Realizing that maybe you like the attention, especially coming from someone as high-caliber as Childe, you decide to offer him a.. mercy, of sorts.
With the hesitant motion of your spreading legs, Childe's final restraint snaps.
Within an instant, he sinks himself into you in a single swift motion, tossing your legs over his arms. You choke out a moan, the overwhelming fullness inside you clouding your mind. He whimpers, the feeling of your pulsing walls and the joy of finally finally claiming you proves to be too much for him. Blushing and brows furrowed, he pouts at you.
"I'm sorry baby, I really am," Childe insists, and you cock your head in confusion. "I wanted to be gentle for our first, but I can't hold back any longer".
"I think I might break you, but you'll forgive me, right?"
Wait, what?
Before you know it, he's pummeling into your core like a man crazed, punching rhythmic little "ah, ah, ah's" out of you with every cant of his hips. His movements are nearly punishing, hard and fast and mean, leaving you breathless and only able to simply lay there and take it. It makes it that much easier for his girth to bully into you, practically spearing you open as your eyes flutter shut. You're brainless by this point, and his relentless thrusting has you quickly reaching your peak, much to his delight.
As you feel yourself tipping over the edge, Childe's mouth finds your nape, and he bites. Your eyes shoot open at the sensation, pain and pleasure shocking your system and amplifying your orgasm until it's practically forced out of you. He licks your wound, nursing you through it, and his hips slow as if to ease your fried nerves. But your moment of reprieve is short-lived and before you've even come down from your high all the way, he's back at it. Pounding into you, with a bruising grip on your waist as you hiccup pathetically beneath him.
So cute.
★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★
It's nearly two hours later that Childe gives you a break, smug and satiated having made you come for the umpteenth time. A lovesick sigh leaves him as he traces the marks on your skin, content knowing that he had wrung you dry of everything you could give him.
Looking up at him through your damp lashes, you shiver.
A large grin plastered on his face, eyes wide and unblinking as he gazes at you with unrestrained giddy. You were his now, thoroughly claimed and his to adore. And as he reaches out and gathers you into his arms, Childe has only one thing on his mind.
"Let's go home ♡"
☆-★-☆-★+☆-★-☆-★+☆-★-☆-★
My first full length fic, let me know what you think! Might make a part two with Zhongli if you guys are interested :)
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everyonewooeverywhere · 13 hours
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pairing ✭ dom!yunho x f!reader
synopsis ✭ yunho loves you to the moon and back, but god if he doesn't love to make you cry.
content/genre ✭ smut 18+ MDNI
word count ✭ 1.5k
warnings ✭ smut, unprotected sex, choking, dacryphilia, slight degradation, yunho's a bit mean and condescending
notes ✭ i perhaps had way too much fun writing this, but i hope you enjoy it anyway.
thank you to my angels who read this ahead of time ( @beenbaanbuun, @ateez-main-yapper & @wooyoungmybelovedhusband ) and helped me edit it! sending you kisses 😚
✭✭✭✭
“You look so pretty like this, baby,” he breathed in your ear.
He had you exactly where he wanted you. Writhing in his lap, gripping his dress shirt for dear life as he pushed his fingers deeper inside of you. Your wet cunt left his hand an absolute mess as he curled his fingers where he knew you would feel it the most. 
“So so pretty,” he brushed the hair out of your face with his free hand and kissed your forehead. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his lips.
A soft whimper rose from your throat, “Yu…”
Oh, how he loved to see you like this. So fucked out on your own pleasure that he was giving you with only three of his fingers. He fucking loved knowing that the only thoughts in your pretty head were how much you needed him to keep going. Everything about you was so perfect. From the way you gasped every time he hit your sweet spot. To the way you could never keep quiet when he was giving you what you wanted. 
He couldn’t help but shut you up sometimes, though. “Open up,” he demanded, tapping your kiss-swollen lips with two fingers. You did as he said and let his fingers slip past your lips. He pushed them back far enough for a brief moment to hear you gag on them. He smiled, “Good girl.”
Yunho was so intuned with your body’s reactions to his touch that he could tell you were on the edge. Your legs shook as you reached your high. The bubble in your stomach threatened to burst. Your whole body ran hot as he worked you closer and closer
“Oh? Do you wanna cum?” he asked so condescendingly. His tone was so degrading that it made your heart flutter. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth.
You nodded frantically, pulling yourself closer into his chest, “Y-yes! Please! ‘m so close…” Your legs shook more violently, and you were right there on the edge when he pulled his fingers away.
Your head fell forward into the crook of his neck, “Please Yu, I’ve been so good.” You cried with your face pressed into his skin.
He tangled his hand in your hair and yanked your head back. The base of your scalp stung as he kept his grip strong.
Hot tears fell from your eyes. Yunho felt his cock twitch at the sight.
“Oh no,” he consoled in the most insincere manner that he could manage, “Why are you crying baby?”
He watched intently as your tears rolled down your cheeks and your neck. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned in to lick them off your cheek. His tongue was hot against your skin, and he felt your throat vibrate in a low moan at the feeling of it. 
“Were you close?” He whispered in your ear, his lips and tongue brushing the skin. You tried to nod, but his grip on your hair kept your head pulled back. “I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging like that.” A lie.
You whimpered and rolled your hips, doing everything you could to give yourself some semblance of relief. Nothing could stop your tears from falling faster when you couldn’t get any. 
He let go of your hair and wiped a tear with his thumb. He pulled you into a kiss, a kiss so much softer than anything he had given you this whole time. “Don’t cry. I’m here.” He mumbled on your lips. He didn’t mean it, of course. He loved seeing you cry. Fuck, he needed to see you cry. He adored the way you couldn’t stop once you started. Whether it be from denying your orgasm over and over again or overstimulating you until you went completely numb, your tears were what got him off.
It used to be something he was ashamed of. Watching you cry over stress at work or seeing you sob about a character's death in a movie. All of it would turn him on so much. He wanted to comfort you and tell you it was gonna be ok. But he also craved your tears. You eventually caught on. Of course, you did. It was a little hard to miss how he popped a boner every time you were brought to tears.
And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it as much as he did. 
He lifted you off his lap and laid you on the bed, resting your head on his pillows. They smelt exactly like him, and you couldn’t help but inhale the scent. After discarding his clothes he crawled over you. 
The way you looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks made him groan. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he kissed the base of your neck. 
“You ready, love?” You nodded with ragged breaths.
Slowly, he pushed into you. You moaned, loud, at the feeling of him stretching you out. 
He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his own noises at bay, but he couldn’t help the involuntary groan that rose out of him when you tightened around him. 
It took no time at all for his fingers to find your neck. He softly brushed your skin as he thrust into you. Slowly. So painfully slow.
The hand on your neck tightened with each thrust. You felt lightheaded as leaned closer to your face. When you gripped his wrist, digging your nails into the skin, he smirked and pressed his forehead to yours. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” You let out a broken whimper. He chuckled, “Take a deep breath, maybe you’ll feel better.”
Your tears fell once again, and you could feel him twitch inside of you at the sight. “That’s it, baby. Cry for me.”
He lost control completely when your tears fell harder. His hips lost all sense of rhythm. He thrust into your dripping pussy with his only goal to fuck you into oblivion.
“God fucking dammit, angel,” he grunted, “I’m close.”
You were too, and he knew it. Your face grew hotter and hotter, and your grip on his wrist only tightened as he chase his own high.
“S-shit,” he was almost there, “Keep crying, baby. You can do that for me, yeah?” There was no need to ask. You had no control over the tears anyway as they fell in hot streams down your face. 
You were so fucking close. You could feel the pressure building as his thrusts lost even more control, “Yun-yunho,” his name came out in a broken moan as you came. Hard. Your legs shaking so uncontrollably that he had to brace one of them to his hip.
He followed close behind you. Finally releasing his grip on your throat when he came. You took a deep breath as he virtually collapsed next to you. 
Pulling you into his chest, he spoke softly, “You good, sweetheart.”
You nodded, closing your eyes and leaning fully into his chest, “Mhm.”
He held you in his arms for several minutes. Letting you ground yourself in the sound of his heartbeat. He ran his hands through your hair, detangling the strands with his fingers. It felt so good to have him care for you like that. Making sure that, even after he mocked and degraded you, you knew that he loved and cherished you.
“Yu…” you poked his chest.
“Yes, love?”
“I love you.”
He smiled and kissed your forehead, “I love you, too, baby. More than anything.”
The two of you lay in silence. Listening to each other's breathing. His chest rose and fell against your cheek. It was so calm. Your eyes fluttered from exhaustion, and you were on the brink of sleep until you heard Yunho’s stomach growl. Loud.
Your laugh turned into a snort as you slapped his chest, “Seriously?” 
“Sorry,” he smacked the back of your thigh in playful retaliation, “I’m hungry.” He grinned down at you. “Do you want me to make dinner?” 
Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help but laugh at him, “You’re gonna make dinner?”
“Hey! Have some faith in me.”
“Baby, I love you so so much, but I think we should just order food.”
He looked mildly offended, “You don’t like my cooking?”
“You’re cooking is fine, but I don’t wanna wait three hours for you to make something.”
Huffing, he sat up a little to grab his phone off the nightstand, “What are you feeling?”
You shrugged and pulled him back down onto the bed, crawling over him. Straddling his lap and laying on his chest, “You decide.”
He nodded and started playing with your hair once again, “Alright, but don’t complain if I get something you don’t like.”
“Choose carefully. I might cry if you pick something bad,” You teased.
He pinched your side and shook his head, “Don’t give me any ideas.”
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rblackdeco · 1 day
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Sunkisses
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— pairing(s): lifeguard!james potter x gn!reader
— a/n: the brainrot i am having over this you don't understand, someone said lifeguard!james and i ran with it
— summary: james can't take his eyes off you when he sees you
James Potter was many things. Unfortunately, for everybody at the beach, he was not good at keeping things exactly professional. He was a lost cause from the moment he saw you, your hair wet and blowing with the wind, the smell of the sea he knew from the first second that would stick to your skin for the next couple days.
James thinks he would've fallen even if he had other options. How could he not?
And then again, there was work. A summer gig more of kinds, but nevertheless. He was supposed to keep it professional, he was supposed to focus. Damn him, kids could drown! He wasn't supposed to fall for the first cute person who watched him help aforementioned kids, but James was not strong in that way.
A lost cause, really, would be more of the appropriate wording.
James took a couple days to approach you, and still he could feel you looking, stealing glances every time you could. He felt a little less guilty in doing the same. You had a clear drink in hand, a few strawberries drowning in ice, and he couldn't figure out what it was for the dear life of him, but he knew it was sold across the street and you bought one everyday without fail, just when his shift was about to end.
Today he sat by your side and ordered the same. It wasn't too strong, and it was really tastier that what he expected. The bartender brought both cups at the same time and James tipped him. You would always get up, enjoy your drink closer to the sea. You didn't.
"You're a lifeguard, huh?" You ask him, eyes stealing another welcome glance of him. "Should you be drinking?"
"Yeah, only for the summer. though." He nodded. "And well, my shift's over, for about five minutes now."
"God helps the tourists." You laugh, looking at him as you stir your drink, taking another sip of it as your eyes looked away to the sun setting behind you, then back at him. "How you like it?"
"It's nice. Grew up around these parts." You raise a brow, and he chuckles. "Don't say you can't see it, you'll offend me."
"Sorry." You offer, hiding your smile.
"Care to tell me what I'm drinking?" His smile is so nice you feel it radiating to you, making your cheeks as warm as the sun could. You can barely distinguish a couple freckles in his, if you look closely, and to his credit, the faded tan on his skin is distinguishable enough.
"Oh, so you're taking drink recommendations from strangers?" You raise a brow, teasingly.
"Only if the stranger is pretty." He's fast to reply, shrugging your taunting off. It makes you smile however cheap his line was, and James takes it as a compliment. You've got the prettiest smile he's ever seen.
"Calling me pretty and I don't even know your name, that's a first." You snicker, another sip on your drink now watery.
"Well, I don't know your name either, stranger." He answers, letting the silence linger for a moment. "I'm James."
"Nice to meet you, James." You say back, telling him your name in exchange. James makes a note to remember it for next time he sees you, which he's hoping it's soon. Your drink is more than halfway through and he hadn't asked you anything other than your name.
The words rush past his lips in a blur. "Am I going to see you around?" He feels stupid, but you smile despite it. His heart feels lighter.
"Sure, James. As long as no kids drown and get you fired." The joke is bad, but he smiles like you just said something very endearing. To all accounts, he wasn't letting them drown before, but now he seems determined to never let a single child step towards water again if that's what it takes to keep his job, to keep you.
"They wouldn't dare to." He smirks and you know he means it.
111 notes · View notes
emphistic · 5 hours
Text
Interlude
A/N: did i write this in half an hour? yes. am i crazy? of course.
"Ah ah ah. I never said you could leave yet."
You immediately stopped in your tracks upon hearing a familiar deep, raspy voice at your back, coming from the confines of your shared bed.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
You whipped your head around, and were met with a set of half-lidded eyes in a shade of deep red. Their owner was propped up on one elbow atop the messy sheets, yawning loudly before running his long fingers through his unruly locks.
Sukuna was never a morning person, and his shifts always started later in the afternoon, so he always used it to his advantage.
Blinking once, twice, thrice, as you nervously averted your gaze away from your very enticing boyfriend, who only continued to stare at you sleepily.
The thought of going back to lay in your comfortable, warm bed was already something you wanted to do terribly, but adding Sukuna into the mix, too? This was like trying to drain the sea.
Merely one look at the pink-haired man, who was only covered waist-down by the blankets on his legs, was enough to pull you back beneath the covers and curl into his side.
However, you had already called sick two times in only a fortnight, and those bills were not going to pay themselves.
Unfortunately for you, or not unfortunately, you and Sukuna had been over this many times. Sukuna always told you, "I don't understand why you keep going back to that shitty job anyway. Just let me take care of you back in my place, I provide substantially for the both of us, anyway."
And besides, there really wasn't a way out for you no matter what.
Sukuna had had so many clients back-to-back lately, that he was forced to stay at the tattoo shop for nights on end. On top of that, Choso was unavailable for God knows why, so Sukuna had to fill in for him as well. And if that wasn't enough, sessions would take longer than expected because clients just wouldn't stop flirting with him, moving or twitching, accidentally messing up his work, talking so obnoxiously to the point Sukuna couldn't even pay attention, etc.
Only recently — just the night before, he was finally granted the chance to come home to you.
And you best believe he was going to spend every hour, minute, and second reminding you that you were his, and his only.
Not even your job's employee, apparently. Sorry not sorry.
But, it's not like you wanted to leave him anyway. You had missed Sukuna as much as he had missed you, if not more.
Phone calls while he was on break, sending memes through your text messages, playing together on Game Pigeon, FaceTimes while eating lunch together, were your only escapes from the sad, miserable Adult Life, into just Sukuna and You World.
"Baby, you know I have to. But I'll be back before you know it, okay? And besides, you need the free time. They've been working you nonstop—"
"I'm fine, not even tired. Don't you dare worry your pretty little head about me. As for free time . . ," Sukuna's held a mischievous glint to them, "how about you spend my free time with me?"
You bit your lip, in contemplation. Although you knew, clear as day, what would happen in the end despite everything.
Deciding to make a run for it, you swung your legs over the bed and planted your bare feet on the freezing-cold floor of your apartment. But before you could even stand up, a thick arm swiftly made its way around your waist and pulled you back to meet a hard, bare chest.
Sukuna was now sitting up.
You lightly gasped, as he brought his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.
"Don't think you can run away from me just yet, doll. I haven't seen you in days, and I'm not going to be apart from you for another second."
You squirmed in his grasp, but when you realized his strong hold around your middle wasn't going to let up any time soon, you sighed, and, left with no choice, only slumped back against his chest.
Sukuna grinned, victorious, once again.
The rays of the early sun filtered through the cheap window blinds, and you fluttered your eyelashes, squinting to hide away from the inevitable.
"Yeahh," Sukuna laughed, "that's right, princess. Just listen to me from now on."
You frowned, turning your head around to narrow your eyes at Sukuna.
"Now, what can we do with all this free time? I'm thinking we should try something new." Sukuna raised a brow teasingly, twisting your body around and settling you onto his lap with your thighs on either side of his.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, mister. I'm only staying for five more minutes," you crossed your arms.
Sukuna placed both of his large hands on your hips; it seemed like that was their default resting spot. Every chance he got, they would always end up there. No matter the setting or occasion.
Sukuna let out a deep laugh, "We'll see about that."
-
"Five minutes? You said? Either way, I don't think you're even able to move your legs at this point and walk out of this room."
"S'kuna, you're—ngh—not funny!" Your nipples hardened, and rubbed raw against the material of your shirt.
You braced yourself by placing both hands on the headboard, but it didn't look like anything could help stable you now.
Sukuna licked a stripe up your dampening clit.
Your situation wasn't looking too good. It didn't help that your asshole of a boss just had to call you right then and there.
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stagefoureddiediaz · 2 days
Text
7x07 Costume Meta
Well!! Where does one even start with this episode!!!
We start with Hen - thats where! Well actually we start by saying that no Bobby or Athena in this meta - as they were only seen in uniform!
I also want to say - starting with this one, I'm going to have to pull back from the very full on costume meta's I've been putting out each week - work has got incredibly busy (I'm about to undertake a massive multi £million project) and I just don't have the capacity - mentally and physically or the time, to write meta for every single one of our main (and the regulars/guest) cast. These metas take a huge amount of effort and energy and while I love writing them, I need to have the time to pursue other things alongside them, (which I currently don't) and give myself time to rest - I don't want my AuDHD to spiral me into burnout.
So while I'm still going to be putting out a costume meta each week, I cannot guarantee which or how many characters and costumes I talk about - I may do all the characters but not all their costumes or just a few of the characters but all their costumes - it depends on my capacity that week. I will commit to doing Buck and Eddie every week (unles they're only in uniform) because they are the reason I started doing these metas in the forstplace and are my blorbos!
I hope you can understand and still enjoy what I do produce and my inbox will always be open if you have specific questions you'd like to ask! Thanks for understanding
Now on with the meta - below the cut as usual!
Hen
Hens costumes go on a bit of a journey in this episode
Not going to lie - this t-shirt - I am obsessed with it as a choice for Hen and for this scene. Loewe t-shirts start at $300 - I am clearly in the wrong job and universe!! But that aside - we have this bright cyan blue (because its a cyanotype design!) which means trust and loyalty, but it is combined with a cow parsley print and cow parsley in flower language means safety sanctuary and refuge - due to its prevelance in church yards and churches being places where one could seek sanctuary (hisotrically speaking). So this is hen offering all of those things to Mara (on behalf of the Wilson family) and that is just beautiful to see.
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Hen in a bright pink hoodie when the pink = naivety and innocence theme we have for this season is going strong, it does also play into the idea of secrets and cheating a bit as well - as we see Deidra give them a way to contact Maras half brothers family, and the implication that Mara's mother cheated on Maras father is made clear as well.
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Then we get this birth of love jumper with pink roses on a gold background. gold in colour theory mean optimism, enlightenment and prosperity and with pink roses meaning gratitude and new beginnings, the symbolism of the sweater is pretty clear - even without the words 'the birth of love' wrtien on it - along with mara being in yellow and back in contact with her baby brother, all things are looking pretty positive in the Wilson household right now!
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Maddie
its all about the pale blues and lavenders for Maddie this week.
The pale blue we see Maddie in here plays into the same blue theming we've seen Buck wearing since the end of season 5 - this is all about Maddie getting some closure and moving on from her past - leaving Doug and the trauma he put her through in the past. The blue bookends that mini arc for Maddie in this episode - showing her still doing a bit of processing over her trauma surrounding Doug and his kidnapping of her.
We also get the tan coloured jacket with its golden wrm undetones - its within the brown spectrum of the colour wheel and therefore plays into the theme of stability and protection.
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We also get this beautiful lavender colour in the middle of it all as well. Lavender is a colour of cleansing and tranquility - which ties in nicely to Maddies pale blue closure and moving on journey for the episode.
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Buck
Buck decided to just play out the green and blue colour theme on his own this week - the dark bottle green shirt with a navy blue apron thats messy and stained is an interesting choice! This is the second time this season we've seen Buck in this dark green shade, and both times have been around Eddie and both scenes have related to issues with Eddies relationship with Marisol and the idea of keeping secrets of some description.
combine this with the other times we've seen Buck wearing this dark bottle green and things become even more interesting
-2x18 - Buck and Ali relationship end -3x12 - skateboarding -3x16 - when Buck takes Red to see Cindy -5x13 - when he confesses to Taylor about kissing Lucy -5x18 - when he breaks up with Taylor
the skateboarding scene is the only one that doesn't fully fit the bottle green narrative at play in the other three scenes - its also the only other scene where there is no blue present - Eddie is wearing white and buff, so it can be discounted from the pattern by virtue of the lack of blue.
All 4 of the other scenes involve a relationship crisis point of some description - Ali all but ends their relationship (side point here, Buck is also wearing blue and green in this scene as the hoodie is lined in navy blue).
- Red discovers Cindy has dementia and cannot remember him - ending any hope of that relationship being something he can pursue. This scene does however sit slightly apart from the later scenes as well - by virtue of Red being the character involved - and not someone Buck has a close personal relationship with - Red is a new friend.
Buck confessing he kissed Lucy puts his relationship with Taylor in jeopardy and it then ends in 5x18 - both of these scenes play into the theme of the lack of trust and of secrets on top of the relationship crisis points.
So to combine those scenes with the two from this season - all involve a crisis point in a close relationship along with secrets and to a greater or lesser extent a lack of trust, leading to a breakdown or termination of a relationship. So while on the surface this is all pointing towards some form of relationship termination, my feeling is that isn't the whole story. I do think it still points towards a relationship crisis point for Buck and Eddie (as well as Eddie and Marisol and Eddie and Kim) when the fact Eddie is cheating on Marisol comes to light, the fact that Buck is also the one wearing the blue and not Eddie, points me towards thinking that Buck will also be the one to ensure that any break between him and Eddie is only temporary - because ultimately Buck has been on both sides of the coin - he has been cheated on (Abby did't technically end their relationship so Buck was technically being cheated on) and been the one to do the cheating.
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Chris
Chris is the only colour in this scene - we have Eddie in white and buff and Marisol in white and black - both effectively devoid of colour - meanwhile Chris is sat between them wearing green and red - and check gets thrown into the mix as well.
The fact he is placed directly between them for most of the scene is an indicator that it is this 'family' dynamic that is going to fall under the curse of the check pattern - the check is foreshadowing the entrance of Kim later in the scene, as well as the future end of the relationship between Eddie and Marisol and Chris and Marisol.
The green is also closer to Eddies army greens than we've seen Chris in before - playing into the idea of Chris and Eddie being similar in their behaviours and mannerisms - again its a form of foreshadowing Eddies cheating arc sitting in parallel to Chris's one.
Meanwhile the red is a signal of danger (it can mean passion, love etc as well, but in this instance - as its being used in check pattern - its more a symbol of danger - a warning!).
I'm also fascinated by the foreshadowing this outfit gives us as well - the red and green of Buck and later outfits - a signifier perhaps of the check also hinting at conflict ahead for Buck and Eddie over the fact Eddie is lying to Buck and to Chris - as the use of the two colours on all three of them in the episode (and only the three of them) really highlights them as a unit once again.
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Then we have Chris in a white tee and a two tone denim jacket. I am sincerley hoping that the white tee is not a signifier of the same things as Buck being in white - Chris so rarely wears white, that I am hoping it is merely playing into the idea that Chris is a true innocent in the tangled web that Eddie is weaving - the web centred around his internalised idea that he needs to find another mother figure for Chris.
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Marisol
Marisol in back and white stripes is paying into stripe theory rather nicely - its indicating that change is coming. We see the beginnings of that change later in the scene with the introduction of Kim. The choice to have the stripes in black and white is also telling - its a literal representation of things being black and white and plays into the theme of Eddie and Marisol's relationship lacking colour - its very telling that both her and Eddie have worn black and or white around each other far more than any other colours, I'm not saying we haven't seen them in other colours - we have - Marisol has also worn the bright pink top in 7x01 and the blue dressing gown (and the blue top from later) and Eddie has worn his army green but the fact of the matter is that black and white are the over arching colours the two of them wear in relation to one another and tied into that is the fact that none of the scenes she has been involved in have been about establishing her as a character in her own right - all of her scenes have been set up for either Chris or Eddie - the audience is being given very little to endear her to them and the black and white also plays that out - in fact we have had more establishment of Eddie and Tommy as friends in one episode than we have had of Eddie and Marisol as a couple across multiple episodes.
There is also the fact that white means purity and innocence - which as a novice nun is on theme for her - but it also plays into the idea that she is also an innocent party in the road Eddie is about to send them on.
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We also get more Marisol in Blue - its a bright blue that is very reminiscent of the bright blue that the Virgin Mary is depicted wearing in Catholic art - it plays into the theme of Eddies Catholic guilt that was established in 7x05 when Eddie found out she was a novice nun - its just yet more layering of this positioning her as a representation of the Catholic faith - as a representation of purity and goodness - she is intentionally meant to seen bland and too good an pure - its her literal narrative purpose.
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Kim
Ok sooo Kim the Shannon Doppelgänger! They've done a great job with costuming her to make her look very differnet to Shannon - which is a key thing. To start with all the colours we've seen her in so far sit on the opposite side of the colour wheel from Shannon - who was much more in the yellow orange and pink side of the wheel, while Kim here sits in the blue side of the wheel - interestingly the same side of the Wheel that Buck sits on. I've spoken at length about How Buck in the pale blues we've seen him wearing since the end of season five was about his journey of self discovery and figuring out who he is and what he wants - about moving forward and leaving the past in the past. The same could be said for Eddie here its just manifesting in a very differnet way - Kim is a projection of Shannon, so moving on from Shannon and leaving her ghost in the past is what Eddies journey is all about.
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I am fascinated by the fact that this suit choice - with its vertical striped pattern and white shirt underneath also plays into 6x01 Buck and the lasagne of it all - especially considering we see Buck attempting a new lasagne later in the episode - there is something in the concept that Buck getting his lasagne right in that blue zip front jacket when Eddie is there to eat it, and then not getting the new lasagne he is trying out right when Eddie is not going to be eating it - things being successful and right when the three of them are together as the Buckley-Diaz family, but not being successful or right when one of them isn't present.
This as a concept places Buck along side Shannon - something we've already seen explicitly stated on screen in this season and in direct contrast to Kim - because not only is Kim a doppelgänger for Shannon, she becomes a doppelgänger for buck as well.
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The blue and white striped top in the second Kim scene also mirrors Buck costumes from season 6 - the vertical stripes and the use of blue and white - it further emphasises the paralleling of the pair of them - because the implications are clear - Eddie thinking he's found this second chance with Shannon - a second chance at happiness with when the reality is that Buck has been there all along - it plays perfectly into the Vertigo arc that Tim is using as well - Buck in the place of Midge - the best friend but the actual right fit for Eddie who has been there all along.
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This black sheer top and leather jacket with the knotted updo is playing into so many themes that it makes me happy! the first and most obvious one is that its a very stereotypical 'other woman' outfit - the sophisticated seductress. It also plays her into the opposite of Shannon - dark versus light - all the flashbacks of Shannon we saw in this episode were brightly lit and bathed in light - giving her an angelic and heavenly aura - a play on her status as an angel (both in terms of her being dead, but also in terms of Eddie having rose tinted glasses on in regards to their relationship and her as a person - that common trait of making saints of the dead - especially when their death was traumatic and left things unfinished - as we have with Eddie)- Kim her is lit far more darkly and the glow of the light has a much more orange and therefore darker tone to it - its a play on temptation - the updo and leather also give her a slightly serpent like air - she is Eve tempting Adam to eat the fruit - it is serpent like. This theme plays on the other religious theme we've had established around Eddie - with Marisol being placed into this Virgin Mary role - here we have Kim being placed into her opposition as the devil - I am not saying she is evil - this is about Eddie being tempted by trying to get back what he has lost - she is a physical manifestation of what is happening - of Eddies internal struggles with his catholic guilt - much in the same way Marisol is a manifestation of the opposite side of that catholic guilt coin - they are the extremes that are pulling on Eddie in physical form and Eddie needs to find the balance.
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Eddie
Boy oh boy do we have a lot to talk about with Eddie this week!1
There are three key themes at play with Eddie in his costuming this week and its so so good, I'm obsessed with the choices being made.
Starting out with this white tee and buff suede jacket which ties into three separate scenes which are key in relation to Christopher and Eddies relationships with women and the the theme of Eddie looking for a mother for him.
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up first - the moment Eddie lets Shannon back into Christophers life - this one is pretty obvious on the mother front - Eddie is literally letting Christophers actual mother back into his life. this jacket is closer to brown than the buff colour of the one above, but it still plays into the theme - its the point at which the theme is established.
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Then we have Eddies talk with Bobby about Shannon and re proposing to her as well as the possibly of her being pregnant again. Its a key turning point in his the relationship with Shannon - it is the moment that idealisation starts to creep into Eddies perspective on her and the moment when past, present and future collide - the concept of having Shannon and not having Shannon.
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Finally we have the skateboarding scene - which while being a key moment of bonding as the Buckely-Diaz dynamic continues to be established in season 3. The jacket here is the closest to the one from 7x07 and this scene comes on the back of a couple of scenes with Ana - who was wearing pale blue in one and white (with red flowers) in the second.
All of these scenes when combined with the scenes from 7x07 establish this white tee - buff/beige jacket or shirt colour way as being about Christopher and Eddies desire to give him a mother figure - that the final scene - the skateboard scene very clearly shows Buck becoming a key figure in Christophers upbringing in a far more visual and physical way - Eddie is and active participant rather than standing on the sidelines as he is in all the others - along with the choice to show buck in the dark green in the same episodes - showing Buck in a semi parental role back then to show him in an even more parental role in this one (the 'we won't wait up' was a definite choice on the script front when it had been established that Chris was staying over at Bucks and Eddie wasn't returning until the following day) - especially when you also have Chris wearing red in both episodes.
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Eddie in a black shirt - one that is the same as the one from 7x06.
There is a lot at play with this black shirt, and a lot at play with black on Eddie more widely, but first up - The Christopher watch. It was so very present in this episode - the shirt cuff has been tucked underneath the watch to ensure that it is visible - because they want to ensure that we see that Christopher is still front and centre in Eddies mind through all of this - it is an indicator that Eddie is not dating any of these women for himself - they are all in one way or another for Chris.
The clincher on the watch front is that the first time we see it is when he goes on his first date with Ana - the first time he is trying to 'recapture' the magic he had with Shannon and the first time he starts dating to try and give Chris a mother figurre. The fact it is so present when he goes back to the store to see Kim the Shannon doppelgänger is proof enough that this is as much about Chris as it is Eddie - the ghost of Shannon continues to loom large in both of their lives and Eddie is very much still trying to find her again for the both of them.
The other - slightly more unhinged aspect of this is that he wears the Christopher watch out to his date with Kim later on - making it still about Christopher. The reason this is unhinged is that the one time we have seen Eddie go out on something resembling a date and not wear the Christopher watch was the poker night with Buck - I said at the time the fact that both Eddie and buck were wearing new watches was important - here we start to see its significance play out - that poker night was for Eddie (and Buck), not for Christopher in any way - if Marisol or Kim were meant to be endgame or even truly long term - then he would be wearing that watch on his dates with one of them - the fact he hasn't speaks volumes (and speaks volumes for the buddie of it all!).
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the shirt itself being worn for this meeting and coming off the back of two key scenes in 7x06 tells its own story. Whilst Bucks coming out to Eddie scene is about his coming out, it is also about establishing Eddie not knowing/realising that Tommy was gay, as well as about the idea of
His wearing it to reverse his relationship with Marisol back to them not living together - to start over is obvious - the magic with her wasn't magicking, but because of his determination (subconsciously) to find a mother for Chris he rewinds rather than ending the relationship. This remains the key scene for this shirt in that episode and ties into his wearing it in this one - its all about rewinding the clock and trying again.
The thing with Eddie in black (apart from the singlets which are their own themed thing - although it still ties into the wider Eddie in black theme) is that its a colour he has worn so specifically in relation to his mental health and in connection with Christopher (and Shannon).
I'm not going to go through every instance of him wearing black - it would take way to long, but I am going to pick out a few key moments when he is wearing it - specifically shirts
2x17 - the reproposal/ divorce scene 3x12 - parent teacher night at school - mets Ana for the first time 3x15 - Christopher birth (flash back scene) 4x13 - follow your heart not Christophers scene 5x01 - Panic attack scene 5x10 - tells Carla about the hostage situation - after Chris's meltdown 5x17 - Ramons retirement party
We also have him in 6x11 in his widows weeds at Bucks bedside and in 6x17 a long sleeved waffle tee when he 're' meets Marisol at the DIY store
In regards to Marisol - he has worn black more than any other colour in relation to her (not that they've had many scenes together, but half of their scenes have been in black, and that includes their 're' meeting in the hardware store - not technically their first meeting, but Eddie was in uniform the first time they met.
The black is playing two roles with Eddie - there is the fact that it has duel meaning - it is associated with magic - specifically dark magic as well as darkness/depression, secrets and power. I know I haven't listed all of the scenes he wears black and long sleeves above - but the fact that those scenes I've listed are so very central to Eddie, fatherhood and the various women in his life is pretty telling. The fact that both Ana and Marisol were both met in scenes where he was in black or that so many of the other scenes were connected to pivotal moments in his relationships with all three women (Shannon, Ana and Marisol) - in the same way the the dark green has been for Buck - and the fact that so many of the scenes tie into the theme of his heart and not following it plays into this idea that he is in mourning - that his grief is central to all of these relationships - and that includes this new one with Kim.
Setting his first meeting (as in actual conversation) with Kim against this backdrop of his previous relationships, grief and his 'struggle's with fatherhood (including his relationship with his own father) sets this relationship off on the wrong foot regardless of the cheating aspect or the fact she is Shannons doppelgänger.
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Sorry, both the pictures from 7x07 have terrible lighting - it was basically impossible to get a good still of either shirt that showed off the colour!!!! I am however obsessed with the choice to put Eddie in maroon twice in this episode - and in long sleeves at that!
The reason for my obsession - the way it plays into yet another Christopher theme. Eddie wearing Maroon long sleeved shirts (espeically Henleys) in relation to Christopher and his choices as a parent. So in this Episode it happens twice - we have his meal in the Diaz kitchen with Marisol, and then at the end of the Episode - his date with Kim - While neither scene directly involves Chris, both play into this idea of everything Eddie does in terms of his relationships in connected to Chirs - he daydreams about bringing Shannon back into Christophers life - in a better more honest way than he actually managed to do in the real world (proof of his rose tinted glasses being firmly on when it comes to Shannon) - righting the wrongs he feels he did her, then later on he drops Chris off with Buck (the other actual parental figure in Chris's life) before going on a secret date wit ha woman who looks like Shannon and Eddie is viewing as a second chance - a second chance not just for himself, but also for Chris - because Chris is missing his mom - something the show established early on in the season and the trigger that is sending Eddie into this current spiral.
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All of the scenes Eddie has worn this colour in previously (by this I mean without the presence of other colours via jackets etc) - and they're aren't that many - are deeply connected to Chris and Eddies struggles with fatherhood.
We have this scene from 2x10 when Chris confesses his Christmas wish is to have his mom back - which leads to Eddie feeling guilty about his choices as a father and ultimately leads to Shannons return to Christophers life.
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then we have Fight club Eddie in the aftermath of nearly killing a man from 3x08 - This is the only other time we see him in a Henley and the fact that the conversation he has with Bobby is so heavily intertwined with the concept of Eddie needing to be in control for Christopher - he is once again at the heart of the scene, even in his physical absence from it. It is also turning out to be an even more key scene - Bobby makes the all important comment
'Eddie I just want to make sure you don't think you have to lose everything, before you can allow yourself to feel anything'
this line is very much coming into play now - Eddie did not listen to Bobbys advice and is now setting himself on a course to lose everything. That implies that he will then finally start to feel things - able to move past his continued grief and build a future for himself. The overarching implication is that Eddie has remained in fight club mode since this scene - just that the fight club is internalised and with himself - his failings as a husband and father.
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Chris goes off to summer camp in 3x18 - again a scene about Chris and Eddies role as father
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and finally his first date with Ana - this scene while not obviously about Chris in the moment - is in fact all about Chris - we see it borne out over the course of Eddies relationship with Ana, but the key factor is that this is the first time we see Eddie wearing a different watch to his work watch - a second watch - his Christopher watch - which I explained the significance of above.
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I've also included this tee from 6x12 because although it has short sleeves rather than long ones, it is adjacent to all of the above - he is making Christophers lunch while he and Buck talk later on after Buck has enjoyed his nap on Eddies couch, but it is also the closest they have come to talking about the will. Eddie is also not wearing a watch at all at this point - in a precursor to the poker date two episodes later, this moment - about letting yourself feel things rather than boxing them up inside feels like a key counterpoint to the reality of Eddies arc for this season.
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The other thing about the red shirt black jacket combination along with all the above, is that it also juxtaposes the date with Vanessa that Pepa set him up on - the idea of wanting to be on a date versus not wanting to be on a date, whilst also ensuring black is a central theme with Eddies costuming arc this season.
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Thats all for this week - Sorry again that it took so long to get written and posted - but I hope you enjoyed it none the less!
Tagged people below!
@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks
@bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering
@oneawkwardcookie @leothil @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses
@radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove
@sherlocking-out-loud @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine @yramesoruniverse @extasiswings @favouritealias @pop-kam @b-dwolf @maygrcnt
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redr0sewrites · 2 days
Text
Sick!Sevika x reader Hcs
🥀A/n: back on my bullshit‼️
🥀Cw: fluff, comfort, kinda angsty but only if u tilt your head, put on glasses, and squint
🥀Character(s): Sevika x reader
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sick? her? she still has to do silco's dirty work, she doesn't have time to be sick- or weak in any form
sevika absolutely overworks herself when she's sick, i said what i said. she practically doesn't believe in weakness, and thinks she can just "push through" the natural way
she can be so stubborn about self care, it genuinely makes you want to scream
there isn't exactly good healthcare in the undercity, but she absolutely seems like the type to take 15 advil and call it a day. she might evn try taking shimmer to "boost her immune system" pls stop her
you have to practically force her to bed, sevika could be seconds away from collapse and still claim that she's "fine", but with enough pleading she'd take a break
it isn't long before she just passes out though
at first, sevika would be a liiitle bit irritated at your worries, claiming that she can handle herself, but feels bad once she realizes how much you genuinely care. she does NOT have an appetite when she's sick but would, begrudgingly, at least try to eat if you asked
she gets headaches a lot. this is just a personal hc, but i really feel like she would get a bunch of tension headaches. sevika HATES them so much, and would be really appreciative of massages
its one of the few ways to actually get her to relax when she's feeling unwell, just say a few sweet words and start rubbing her upper back and she'll practically melt (but she'll never admit it ;)
sevika isn't used to having someone take care of her, and will try her best to make it up to you
that being said, she's not above trapping you in bed with her all day for cuddles- she doesn't care about germs, she just wants you close to her
i feel like she wouldn't be the talkative type when she's sick, and would be a lot more affectionate. you are NOT leaving the bed, she's practically clinging to you with her arm thrown over your body
will respect your wishes to not kiss on the mouth, and gives you a lot of forehead and hand kisses
she has an adorable sneeze. i think it's hilarious when tough, strong characters just have this adorable chipmunk sneeze.
pretty pliant when it comes to taking medicine and other forms of healing, and once she isn't sick anymore she definitely pampers you (more than usual) to pay you back
"y'dont have to do that, doll," Sevika murmurs as you massage her neck, her voice raspy from exhaustion. "i know, but i want to," you reply, gently kissing the top of her head as you apply some more pressure to her spine. she sighs, leaning backwards into your touch ever so slightly. the chair she's sitting on creaks as you continue your ministrations, relaxing all of the knots in her muscles and working away at all of the excess tension. Sevika suddenly inhales sharply and you pause, worrying that you hurt her, only for her to sneeze softly. "oh my god Sev..."
"don't start."
"was that your sneeze?" Sevika grumbles, turning away from you as you giggle. "its so cute! who would've known..."
"shut up."
"aww, but you love me, don't you Sev?" Sevika sighs, turning around to face you on the chair. she gently grabs your face, pulling you down to her level where she kisses your forehead. "f'course i do, brat. now shut up and finish my massage, i'm tired." you chuckle again at her prickly attitude before giving a mock salute. "yes ma'am!" Sevika mutters a few words under her breath that sound suspiciously like brat, and not cute, but turns around and eases back into your touch anyways. her back muscles ripple as you supply relief to her sore spots.
fuck, what a woman. how you pulled her you will never know. Sevika suddenly bursts into a coughing fit, chest heaving slightly as she leans forward to steady herself. "shit, that doesn't sound pleasant," you say, and Sevika merely turns and rolls her eyes. "when's the last time you've slept?" you ask accusingly, and Sevika, failing to supply you with an acceptable answer, proceeds to stand up and follow you as you practically drag her to bed.
"you, my dear, need rest". you accentuate the last word, and watch as your lover smirks at you. "only if you join me," she quips, and you don't even hesitate before crawling into bed next to her. your so weak for her, it isn't even funny. Sevika pulls you close, your back up against her chest and her arm thrown across your body. you can feel her breathe on your neck, and you swear you hear her say, "i love you".
"what was that, Sev?" you tease, already feeling exhaustion weigh on your eyelids. "go to sleep," she grumbles, pressing a hasty kiss to the back of your neck.
"i love you too."
guess whos sick rn 😔 i thrive off of reverse comfort it isn't even funny. ANYWAYS hope yall enjoyed!!!!!! i loooove sevika soo much.
PLEEEEEAAAAASE SEND IN ARCANE REQSSSSSS🙏🙏🙏
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Text
Maybe // S. Riley x f!reader
me: I have a cold, I need to study, and I have work in a few hours but I have this tiny thought that won't escape me
me: I should abandon everything I'm working on and write it out? so true bestie
this could be considered a part of this simon x 141!reader universe I've made but idk, I am thinking of a name for their universe. Maybe sadwetcatverse because they're both pathetic. Maybe next part I'll let them fucknasty, who knows. Certainly not me!
warnings: mention of kids/wanting kids, reader and Simon are both masochist losers who can't imagine themselves being happy or living past 40
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The thought doesn’t crop up as often as he imagined. In fact, the first time it crossed his mind was on a mission. They’re in southern Italy, tracking a rogue operative who is working with a local mafia to transport fentanyl-laced drugs into England. They’re not spies, Ghosts remembers saying. No, you’re right, Price retorted. But they’re armed like they’re an army.
The sun is high in the sky and painting your skin deliciously. He has to tear his gaze away from you to focus on the task at hand: analyzing the landscape and seeing where they could set up recon. His shoulders tense as he hears footsteps rapidly approach from behind, but when he turns, he sees a young boy gazing up at you in nothing short but adoration. You crouch down to his level and greet him in Italian, a wide smile on your lips as he extends a bundle of flowers in your direction and babbles out something that has you chuckling and nodding. The boy suddenly turns shy after his bold move and your smile brightens. You thank him for the flowers and he beams before running back to where his family is standing. You wave at the parents and call out a thanks and they laugh in response, ruffling the hair of the child and teasing him.
"What was that about?" he finally asks. You hold the flowers loosely in one hand and use the other to point out a possible place to set up a sniper to watch for their target.
"He said his dad taught him that pretty ladies deserve flowers," you hummed. "It was cute, really."
A wistful look appears in your eyes and he considers, just for a moment, what it might be like to see you with a sleeping babe in your strong arms. A tiny lil thing with a shock of blond hair and eyes the same color as yours. A child with soft skin untouched by the scars you both wore on your bodies and souls. He could picture it so clearly now, the way you would carry his child like the most precious thing in the world, almost akin to how you were carrying the flowers. His chest burns with want, but his face, masked of course, betrays none of the feelings he's experiencing.
That night, when you're both back in the safehouse with the rest of the team, he finds himself sitting up with Price and going over schematics on how to set up this mission. He glances over to where you're on the only bed curled up next to Gaz, fast asleep. The two of you got on like a fire on a house, which made for a great partnership out on the field. Ghost didn't resent him. No, not at all. But he had made it clear to Garrick that if anything happened to you on his watch, Ghost would rearrange his ribs one by one.
And for a moment he lets his guard down and he lets himself picture the way you would fall asleep on the couch with your child pressed against your heart. Your body would shield them from the cruel world you two were intimately familiar with and he would place himself between both of you and anything that threatened you. It was a fool's dream, he knew this, but it was something he had never considered before. Price lets his eyes drift from the map and over to his two sleeping kids, Soap was sprawled out on the floor with his mouth slack and snoring like a chainsaw, and back to his lieutenant.
"Ever consider retiring?" he asks. They never spoke about the relationship between his two lieutenants. He just merely filed away the paperwork that Simon handed him that listed you as his primary contact. He silently approved their file updates with their new shared address. They never let it affect them on the field, save for the few times that you two had gotten a little overzealous in your revenge when the other was hurt or captured. In fact, Price couldn't name a time he saw the two of you interact outside of a professional capacity.
But he can see the look in Simon's eyes. For a man so guarded and cold, Price knew Simon well enough to read what he was thinking.
"Never gave it much thought," Ghost finally answers. "Figured I'll quit once they put me in that casket."
Price sighs. Fucking masochist. Always thinks he deserves life's worst. "And what if that never comes?"
Simon thinks for a moment. Breathes in and out. Considers the way all the lines of stress and tension in your face and body melts away as you sleep. Thinks about how you feed the stray cats around the townhome the two of you share. Remembers how you looked earlier that day with a bright smile highlighted by the sun, eyes sparkling and fingers curled around the stem of the flowers that now rested on the nightstand next to you.
"Wouldn't be fair to her. Taking care of me," he finally answers. Price gives up for the night and just tells him to get some sleep before they move into position tomorrow. Simon settles himself onto the floor on the other side of you, placing himself between you and the door. You were firmly sandwiched between two men who would die and kill for you. He could rest easy, as easy as someone like him could.
And what he doesn't realize is when you first took hold of those flowers, you pictured that little boy with honey brown eyes like his daddy and hair just like yours and a gap-toothed grin as he laughed at one of his dad's stupid jokes. You had never considered that life for you before. Your life was filled with uncertainty and danger. Men and women had come into your bed and left just as easily. Simon was the first person you let settle in close and he was now forever a part of you. The only thing that would take him from you was death himself and you refused to let that be the case. Not if you had a say in it.
You couldn't be a mother. No. Not when you were in such a dangerous job. Even when Gaz teased you about the way you seemed to mother hen him on missions and you retorted it's because he would accidentally blow himself up if you weren't watching over him. Your hands were stained red. So you would let that thought remain a thought. A wish. A hopeless dream, never to be realized. You truly expected to come home covered in a flag and that would be it.
Maybe in another life. Maybe in a safer world. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
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angel5ofp0rn · 16 hours
Text
idk, just a thought 😋
141 x Drunk!Reader / Jealous!Ghost x Drunk!Reader
(idk what’s up with me and making the reader drunk all the time ???)
also idk i just like the idea of Soap being a perv and Ghost being a fuckin weirdo 🫣
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You didn’t expect the guys to actually give a shit about your birthday... Maybe it was just the excuse to drink.
Still, you couldn't deny that you loved seeing the squad out of uniform and all dressed up for the night.
You even put on a little skirt and low-cut top, curled your hair and wore makeup for the first time in months.
Price bought you your first drink just as a 'happy birthday, kiddo', but it didn't stop there.
Soap got you a few shots and Gaz let you sip from his drinks throughout the night.
You were feeling pretty buzzed by the time you convinced some of the guys to move to the dance floor.
Ghost watched quietly from his spot at the bar across the room. You expected as much.
The two of you have been keeping your distance; you were basically still strangers, apart from the random glances you give each other during training.
Ghost thought of at least saying happy birthday to you, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.
He wasn’t exactly an affectionate man. Wasn’t great at showing his feelings.
Feelings? The fuck was he thinking?
You’re just nice to look at, that’s all.
It was strange seeing you with your hair curled and your skin showing, almost like a real woman. He had a nagging thought that if the guys weren’t around, he would've gone over to you.
You and Soap are on the dance floor, you tipsy and swaying while he holds your waist, keeping you steady as he mumbled something close to your ear.
"I don't think so." You muse, looking up at Soap. He had asked if Price was watching the two of you, knowing Price has a tendency to act like a father towards you especially. "Why?"
Soap took a moment before he spoke again, the alcohol clearly getting to him. His words were becoming more and more slurred throughout the night, although he still had that Scottish accent mixed it that kept him sounding charming... though almost unintelligible.
"Y'know yer beautiful, aye? An' th' lads, they've been eyein' ya for the whole night. 'Course ol' Price, he's been' tryin' to keep us from gettin' yer attention… But even Ghost! Ghost thinks yer fuckin’ gorgeous.”
"Ghost thinks that?" You tried to focus your eyes on Soap’s, fighting the alcohol.
Soap leaned in even close now, his breath smelling like strong liquor. He even placed his hand on the small of your back, right above your skirt as he spoke again.
"Oh, aye. But we all do… I do."
You giggled at that. Soap's arm wrapped tightly around your waist now, pulling you chest to chest and murmuring more drunken ramblings into your ear.
You quickly forgot what Soap mentioned about Ghost.
But Ghost was still watching.
He watched the way Soap leaned in to whisper in your ear, the cocky smirk on his face, how dangerously close his hand was to your ass.
He watched you drape your arms around Soap’s neck, eyelids heavy. He watched how your eyes wouldn’t focus on Soap’s eyes; they kept darting down to his lips.
Ghost didn’t watch to watch anymore.
“The steamin’ hell’r you doin’, LT!” Soap calls after Ghost as the masked man grabs your arm and drags you off.
“Let me go!” You groan, trying to pull away from his grip. When that didn’t work, you tried to stomp his toes.
No use, he had those fucking steel toes on as usual. After more ignored pleas, you resorted into trying to drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes; like an unruly toddler.
Ghost didn’t miss a beat. He easily scooped you up and slung you over his shoulder as he head towards the bar’s exit.
The second he set you back to your feet outside on the pavement you tried to shove him.
Stupid idea, really. Fucker didn’t budge.
“What is your problem?” You glare at him.
“My problem?” Ghost’s voice was low. “You were about to let MacTavish feel you up in front of everyone in there.”
“Who cares if Soap and I have a bit of fun? What, are you jealous or something?” You groan.
“Of course I am!”
You froze. Your eyes locked in with his.
“You’re… jealous?” You ask again, softer this time.
You can see the subtle movement of Ghost’s jaw clenching beneath his balaclava.
“You’re drunk.” Ghost states. “You should get back to base and sleep it off.”
He’s right, of course. But you don’t listen.
You don’t fully realize you’re doing it, but you reach your hand up and touch his face.
Well, his mask.
Ghost’s breath hitches, and he thinks of swatting your hand away but he doesn’t. He lets your cup his face. Caress his jaw. Rub your thumb over the fabric covering his lips.
He even lets you pull him in closer, lets you get just an inch away from touching noses before he speaks again.
“I cant kiss you.”
You finally come back to earth, your drunken mind suddenly sobering.
“Oh.”
The two of you stare at each other for a moment, both silent. Both unsure of what happens now.
“Guess I’ll just go-”
“I want to.” Ghost speaks again. “I would like to.”
“Okay…”
“But I can’t.” His huge arms cross as he looks down at up. For something so genuine, he’s saying it as if it’s a threat.
“Right…” You nod slowly, your drunken brain trying its best to gauge what’s happening. “So..?”
“I can’t have you flirting with MacTavish.” He practically growls. “He doesn’t want more than a quick fuck.”
You frown at this, eyebrows lowering into a scowl.
“So you won’t kiss me, but I can’t flirt with anyone else?”
“Yes.” Ghost acts as if this was common sense.
“‘s’not fair.” You roll your eyes. “You can’t do that t’me.”
“Well, I am.”
“Are not.” You challenge. You push past him and re-enter the bar, leaving him outside and alone.
“Bonnie!” Soap calls you over as soon as he sees you.
He’s sat at a table with a bunch of other men that you don’t recognize. He pats his thigh, inviting you to have a sit on his lap.
Ghost’s warning still fresh in your head makes you hesitate.
But who is he to tell you who you can and can’t flirt with? He doesn’t even talk to you.
You try not to stumble as you make your way towards Soap, accepting the invite to sit on his lap. His arm instantly wraps around your waist, holding you in place.
“Didn’t know you had a barracks bunny.” One of the men snickers as he looks you over.
You frown, looking to Soap, waiting for him to correct them. To explain that you’re actually on the squad- no, the best sniper on the squad. An asset to the team, really.
Instead, Soap laughs along with the rest of them, giving your thigh a squeeze. “Nah, nah. ’m keepin’ this bunny all to m’self.”
You had to have heard him wrong, right? Maybe it was the alcohol affecting your hearing.
Before you could defend yourself, you felt Soap’s hand sliding up your thigh, slipping under your skirt.
Your face is burning. The guys all laugh. You feel sick.
Flirting and kissing is one thing… Soap treating you like a sex toy is another.
“Soap, stop.” You mumble, pushing his hand away.
Soap gives you a wink. He thinks you’re playing some sort of game here. His hand starts to creep up your bare thigh again. His lips press against your neck.
“I said stop!” You stand up and shove him by his chest, admittedly harder than you intended to.
Soap landed on his back on the dirty bar floor, his face a mix of pissed off and confused.
Price was by your side immediately, pulling you away from the table as Gaz helped Soap to his feet.
“I’m sorry, Price, I just-“
“I’ve got you a cab outside. Get your ass back to base and sleep it off.” Price barked.
Sober you could handle commands and threats like they were nothing.
Drunk you started tearing up immediately.
Price mumbled something that sounded like ‘for fuck’s sake, kid’ as you turned and walked outside.
Ghost was still outside, balaclava lifted so he could smoke a cigarette.
You didn’t notice him as you slid into the back seat of the cab, but he saw you.
Then he saw Soap and Price exiting the bar one your cab took off.
He watched calmly, smoking as normal while Price stood with his foot on the side of Soap’s head/face, Soap’s cheek pressed against the pavement.
He couldn’t hear what they were fighting about and frankly he didn’t care. He wondered if any of it had been the cause of your teary eyes.
•••
You lift your face off of your pillow and squint at the caller ID as your phone rang.
You’d only been back in your room for about an hour at this point and you’ve been trying to battle the spins.
You swipe to answer the call, smushing your face back into the pillow and closing your eyes again.
“H’llo?”
“Make it back to base okay, kiddo?” Price’s stern, gruff voice came through the speaker
“Mhm.” You mumble your response.
“Good. Sorry about MacTavish; drunken Scot can’t handle his alcohol…” Price sighs. “He’ll be dealt with in the morning.”
“s’okay.” You nod even though he can’t see it.
“You sure you’re alright then?”
“Mhm…”
Price exhaled a deep breath. “Get some shut eye. I'll be seeing you at 0530 sharp for PT."
"Yes sir. Love you."
You didn't fully realize that you told Price that you love him as if you were speaking to your dad.
Price was quiet for a second before his tone subtly shifted to sounding more gentle. "Love you too, kid. I'll see you at five-thirty."
You end the call and force yourself to sit up despite your still tipsy state. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep with everything on your mind.
Well… with Ghost on your mind.
You call him next, not really expecting him to answer at all. He kind of doesn’t; there’s no voice on the other end, but you could tell he was there.
“Ghost?”
“Yeah.”
“So- Why… why didn’t you kiss me?” You stand up off of the bed and pace your room. More like stumble around your room.
“Can’t.”
“But why?” You groan. “Is it because of Price?”
“We work together.”
“So?” You find a hoodie and pull it on over your going out clothes. “That didn’t stop Soap.”
Silence.
“And I… I really wanted you to, y’know? And… I think I said ‘love you’ to Price. Y’think he’ll be mad at me?” You start kicking your heels off.
“…you told Price that you love him?”
You kind of giggle at that, hearing it back. “No, I didn’t tell him I love him. I just said ‘love you’ to him.”
You think you hear Ghost snort at that. “Are we done here?”
“Well, no…”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to open your door.”
Ghost doesn’t speak. You look around the hall to make sure none of the guys would see you.
“Please?”
The call ends. Ghost slowly opens his door and peers at you from the small open space.
You look up at him, messy hair and mascara smudged under your eyes. Your hoodie covered most of your outfit and you were barefoot.
“You look ridiculous.”
“Can I come in?” You ignore his comment.
Ghost hesitates but he does step aside and let you into his room.
It was so dark in his room that you almost didn’t notice that he was maskless. Too bad you couldn’t see him better.
You didn’t really know what you planned on doing now that you were in his room… You honestly didn’t think he’d let you get this far.
Ghost’s hand touched your face. His thumb wiped under your eyes, attempting to fix your makeup.
The gesture was considerate though you knew he was just making the smudge bigger.
“I can’t kiss you.” Ghost repeated his words from earlier, but this time it was softer. More gentle.
You shook your head.
“We don’t have to kiss.”
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starscabaret · 2 days
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Military Yandere! Aaron Deployment
pairing : yandere! aaron x fem reader 
summary : aaron is getting deployed and he’s very upset to leave you, established relationship, fluff
authors note : just a short drabble
warnings: some angst, huge daddy kink, angst a little 
It was a late night. A night before Aaron was required to be on base for his next deployment. He had gotten the orders only a week prior. Since then he has been anxious, upset, and moody. Aaron didn’t want to leave his darling. It was the one thing he couldn’t do. You were the one he couldn’t live without. When he first got the news he tried everything in his power to get out of it or postpone it so that he could spend more time with you. When that didn’t work he tried to make arrangements for you to join him. But it was impossible. 
Once he had accepted his awful fate he decided to make the most of the last week he would spend with you for nine months. You tried to focus on the good and shower him with love. Coddling him like the crybaby he was. Throughout the week he had multiple panic attacks, and you often caught him crying in your bedroom when you were in another room. But tonight’s fit was the worst of them all. He knew his time with you was dwindling. 
“Aaron baby, please calm down. I know.” You coo as you sit in his lap at the edge of your bed holding his teary-eyed face to your chest.
This did nothing to soothe his pain his body was racked by violent sobs as he holds you closer. 
“Please y/n, I don’t want to leave you. I can’t, not for this long.” He cries as he untucks his face from your breast.
“You can, and you will. I promise to keep my phone charged, my location on, and answer every single call. I’ll be  a good girl.” You say, normally you weren’t so compliant with all of his crazy antics but you could see it was driving him mad. The prospect of not knowing and seeing your every move for nine months scared him. He wouldnt be there to protect and care for you and that drove him mad.
“You promise? You have to promise y/n! I’ll go insane if I don’t know that you’re ok. I swear I will desert and come home if you miss even a single call.” He says while stroking and admiring your pretty face, committing every feature to memory. Not like he hadn’t already. 
“Yes I will, I promise.” You reply. Glad that he has stopped crying and raking his hands through his hair while pulling it out of anxiety. 
He continues to stare into your eyes while the tears dry from his. He moves to bring your hand to his mouth for a kiss whilst he grabs your chin and turns your face to look at him.
“Remember what daddy asked for pretty?” He asks.
“Yes sir, at least one picture every day, one picture a month sent with your letters, let you know when I’m in the house for the evening, and don’t take your necklace off.” You list off just as he said it. 
“Good girl, what would I do without you?” He questions as he smiles at you. 
“I dunno.” You blush as you return his smile.
“Don’t forget always lock the doors, and set the alarm. If you need anything you have my card, or call me I will get it sent for you.” He reminds with a stern look on his face, as he grips your thigh. 
“Yes, I know Aaron.” You reply rolling your eyes as this was the thousandth time he has reminded you.
“I saw that, let me put you to bed.” He says while standing up and putting you on the ground next to him. 
“Daddy, I love you. I promise to be good while you’re away.” You start to tear up for the first time this week. Finally, let your emotions show. This week you had held back any tears or sadness, as you didn’t want to make it any harder on Aaron.
“You better, I love you too brat.” He replies.
Aaron spends the rest of the night savoring every moment with you. He has you sit between his strong legs in the bathtub as he bathes you. Drying you off and dressing you in your favorite pajamas which happen to be his clothes. When in bed he massages and kisses your feet. He rubbed and worshipped every part of you making sure nowhere went unloved as he wouldn’t be able to feel you for 9 grueling months. When it got very late, and he had to be on base in just a few hours at the early hours of the morning he finally grew tired and held you in his arm while he slept.
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dark-frosted-heart · 2 days
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Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Bitter End)
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As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.
Roger: Hold up. Not gonna let you kill my cute student. Now then, it’s time for Instructor Roger’s fun and exciting punishment.
Master of the estate: Oliver, shut that guy up!
Instructor Oliver: The one who needs to shut up is you.
Oliver grabbed the man and pinned him to the floor.
Master of the estate: *cough* Wha-what are you doing!
Instructor Oliver: I can’t lie to myself anymore. That’s all.
Roger: Capture everyone involved.
--
What awaited was an unimaginable scene.
Roger used rigorous muscle training to punish those involved.
When they were no longer able to stand, they were handed over to the police.
Kate: The Beauty Muscle Club has pretty much dissolved.
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Roger: That’s good. And all the hospitalized women will be compensated.
Kate: While money won’t fix their situation…I hope it’ll help, even if just a little.
Oliver the instructor also came forward as one of the accomplices.
After atoning for his crimes, he planned on running his own sports gym.
He wanted to establish a place for women to work out together.
???: Um, excuse me…
Kate: Emilia…
Emilia’s wise gaze caught mine when I turned around. 
(...If she overheard us, she knows that she got deceived, doesn't she?)
(...What can I say to her—)
Emilia: Um, thank you so much!
Kate: Huh?
Emilia winked and smiled.
Emilia: I’ve faced a series of disappointments, but I can’t let that get me down.
Her strength revealed how much she had gone through in her life.
Kate: …I’ve also faced a series of disappointments. I could only think about how useless and pathetic I was. But I can’t stay depressed.
Emilia: I agree. I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself, Kate.
While I waved goodbye to Emilia, I noticed Roger’s gaze on me.
Kate: What is it?
Roger: Nothing. Just thinking about how you’re growing into a fine woman.
Kate: D-don’t praise me out of the blue. Besides, it’s not like you raised…
Roger: Yeah, yeah. Anyway, as a reward for growing up well, I’m taking you out somewhere nice.
--
Roger took me to a restaurant by Big Ben.
Roger: Been coming here ever since Ellis told me about it. Basically, everything here’s pretty good.
(...Roger brought me to such a nice restaurant)
Alarms bells started going off in my head.
Kate: …Are you’re going to make me do something again?
Roger: What do you take me for?
Roger stifled back a laugh and stared straight at me.
Roger: Don’t worry. There’s nothing behind the reward today.
Emma: …Reward?
Roger: I saw how hard you’ve been working…Good job.
(Ah…)
Hearing those words, it was clear that he brought me here as a reward.
Kate: Thank you…But, I don’t deserve it. I got too emotional to make rational decisions.
Roger: I suppose that’s true. But I would’ve slapped that guy myself if you didn’t. He deserved it. Getting angry for the sake of others is admirable.
Kate: …
Roger: Kate.
Kate: Yes?
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Roger: You’re strong enough.
(What do I do…I’m going to cry)
Roger’s carrot and stick method always disturbed my heart.
If he did this on purpose, then he’s pretty evil.
Roger: Oh it’s here. The roast beef here’s delicious. Here.
The simple look on Roger’s face when he looked at the meat blew my sentiments away.
Kate: Hehe…It really does look delicious…
Roger: … Hey, Kate.
Kate: Yes?
Roger: Being strong doesn’t mean doing things alone. Being able to rely on someone’s also a strength. So you can rely on me.
After saying that, Roger took a huge bite out of the meat.
Roger: Mmm, yum. Come on, it’s getting cold.
Kate: O-okay. Mmm…Wow, it’s really good! It’s so juicy and tender. It’s amazing.
Roger: …o_o Hahaha! You’re as restless as ever. Remember to chew. My family’s corgi used to eat so fast that they’d choke. They look just like you.
Kate: There you go again comparing me to a dog!
Roger: All that barking’s the same too.
Kate: Ugh…
We argued like usual, but my heart felt warmer.
Roger’s words made me feel really happy…and I kept arguing with him so that he wouldn’t notice.
--
Some time later, I joined Jude and Ellis on another mission.
Ellis: Kate, you’ve been moving pretty smoothly.
Kate: Thank you. I’ve been doing strength training.
Jude: Ya still lookin’ pretty soft.
Kate: I-I’m planning on gaining muscle!
Ellis: Good luck, I’ll be cheering you on.
Ellis smiled and put his lips close to my ear.
Kate: Ellis…?
Ellis: Kate, Roger’s going to be in the lounge tonight.
Kate: Huh?
Ellis: You want to report your hard work and get praised, don’t you?
Ellis smiled gently at my surprise.
(I didn’t say that…)
Ellis: Or do you want to go out to dinner?
Kate: I’m heading back. I…have things to do in the castle.
I wonder how Roger will react when I tell him how I did today.
I definitely didn’t want him to know that I was walking a little faster than usual.
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Trouble Comes In Two - 1 🌶
➤ Pairing - M werewolf-vampire hybrid x F human reader
➤ Wordcount 2.8k
You enter the diner and find your two friends at a corner booth, contrasting each other like night and day. Quyne is dark-skinned, wearing a red jacket and ruffled vest with black leather pants and a studded belt. His heeled boots make him go from tall to giant and even though his slender form makes it seem like a stiff wind could knock him over, you know from experience that he's actually pretty strong.
Vale is shorter and somewhat stout with muscled arms that would make anyone think twice about fighting him. Being a werewolf-vampire hybrid means he doesn't have a human form to shift into and while he has an intimidating, beastly body, you know his heart is practically as soft as his belly. He's just a cinnamon roll that happens to have teeth. He's dressed in loose grey pants and a loose comfy shirt so it doesn't irritate his copper-brown fur.
Quyne looks up at you. His hooded eyes brighten and his lips curve into a smile as he waves you over. You approach them, groaning at the empty bottles littering the table. As a pureblood vampire, Quyne can't drink any of that, so there's only one other option as to who did.
"Quyne, why'd you let him drink so much? You know he's too heavy for both of us to carry!"
Vale is pretty much passed out and his snout is almost in the ketchup on his plate, a limp french fry dangling from a claw. Quyne is across from him. His black eyeliner and white makeup look a little smudged in a sultry "I just got kissed" kind of way. It's been a long day and yet he still manages to pull off his iconic goth makeup.
Quyne shrugs, his glossy lips curling upwards again. "Hello to you too. You made it."
"Duh. I won't ever leave you stranded with this doofus," you reply, plopping down to give your feet a break. Quyne's text came just as you were closing from work, so you walked here. "How's your travel thing going?"
"Great. We've been living hand to mouth and honestly, it has made for some fun times," Quyne says, resting his arms on the table. "Vale ate a whole deer once."
"He caught it?" You're about to be impressed but Quyne shakes his head and snorts.
"No, he's too soft for that. Fresh roadkill."
Vale opens one golden eye and snuffles, able to pick up your scent even now.
"Sweetheart, it's you!" He says with a bit of a slur, lifting his head and bumping it against your shoulder.
"Hello, Vale." You wrap your arm around him and let him snuggle against your shoulder.
It's no easy feat because he's heavy leaning into you like that. His body relaxes and his tail begins to thump against the seat. He only wags his tail when he's really happy. You stifle a laugh and poke at the cold food. You're hungry but you're not in the mood for soggy fries.
"I can make you something if you let us sleep over at yours tonight," Quyne says, his fangs flashing in the bright overhead lights.
You nudge his foot under the table. There's a prejudice towards vampires in this city and on top of all of that he's drawing attention with his makeup and fluffy afro and towering body. Quyne only smirks in response, which makes you roll your eyes. Neither he or Vale possess much of a survival instinct.
"Hopeless idiots," you shake your head and pretend to think about his request. "Aren't you guys taking advantage of me like the old days?"
"Not if I cook for you," Quyne replies, leaning over the table and batting his eyelashes. "And do the dishes."
Without realising it you've leaned in as well. You're almost kissing before you're able to snap out of it.
"Don't do that," you pout. "You know better than to mesmerize me."
"I wasn't." He leans back and licks his lips.
"Whatever." You're not about to admit that you like him enough that he doesn't even need to mesmerize you for you to fall under his influence.
Quyne glances at his phone. "It's getting late."
Vale jumps up at that. "Sweetheart, you're not leaving us, are you?"
"No," you look up at the hybrid looming over you and blocking out the light. "You're coming home with me, puppy."
"Amazing. Balls, I'm so happy but the floor is swimming." He mutters, takes an unsteady step, and begins to topple.
In a flash, Quyne is bolstering him, tucking his phone into his skin-tight pants. "Lead the way," he says.
The three of you make a funny sight stumbling down the sidewalk as you and Quyne strain to keep Vale from ending up nose-first on the ground.
"Why is he so drunk?!" You complain.
"I told him to take it easy but you know."
"Know what?"
"Full moon is just around the corner," Quyne huffs, and your eyes widen.
"Oh! I forgot about that. Remind me why he doesn't match with any of the wolves around here?" You ask as you flag down a taxi.
"They either think he's too pushy or they don't like that he's a hybrid," Quyne shrugs. "I've been taking care of things myself."
"What?!" You snicker at the thought. "Now I see why you want to come to mine."
"Are you jealous?" Quyne pulls open the door for you.
"You wish," you shoot back playfully, getting in the backseat.
Vale clambers in after you. He has to lie over your lap to fit in the taxi, but of course, he doesn't mind.
"You smell good," he mumbles, wedging his snout between your legs.
You're happy you're not wearing a skirt. His nose would be chilly against your skin.
"Rude. Excuse me, mister," you tug gently on one of his ears and he moans.
The taxi driver clears his throat and glares into the review mirror.
"Sorry," you mumble.
Quyne sits in the front seat and looks out the window. Luckily there's not much traffic and before you know it you're outside your apartment building. The cleaner almost drops her mop as the three of you go by.
"I get so many stares when I'm with you two," you note.
"What can I say? I was born for the spotlight," Quyne sighs, fluffing his afro.
You step into the elevator and Vale presses his warm body against you, his teeth testing the skin at your neck.
"Vale..." You swallow a moan as his hand forces its way into your jeans.
You have to shift your weight and hold the rail to keep yourself steady.
"Just a taste, sweetheart. I promise," he groans.
"Have some patience. I said you could ravage her when we get to the apartment. Not one moment earlier," Quyne says, tugging on his forearm.
"Hngh... But her blood..." Vale says, his eyes flashing a dull red.
The elevator opens and you squirm free and dart out of it.
"You two planned this. Of course." You tut as you grab your keys, wanting to get inside as quickly as possible.
"Are you mad?" Quyne asks softly.
"No. You two are a hell of a handful, that's all." You push your door open with a flourish. "Welcome to my humble-"
Vale grabs your arm and yanks you in, tugging you over to the couch, a huge and sturdy custom-made piece of furniture. You bought it after Vale broke your previous one. You oblige and sit. Quyne closes the front door and pulls off his boots.
"What would you like to eat?" He asks.
"Uh..." Your brain isn't exactly working as you dumbly watch Vale shuck off his pants, nearly falling in his haste to get them off.
"Do you know how much I've missed you?" Vale pants. "Fuck, I used Quyne so hard, and all that time I was wishing you were there with us, just like old times."
"You owe me!" Quyne hollers to you from the kitchen. "Keeping up with Vale isn't easy."
You gulp when Vale pushes the coffee table out of the way and kneels in front of you. His ears flick back as his hand moves between his legs, gripping his swollen sheath and teasing his cock out. He pauses, eyes back to gold like twin moons.
"What are you waiting for?" You ask.
"Your permission. Can I taste you? Please?" He hisses through clenched teeth.
"I would like that," you say, and you've barely got the words out before he's yanking at your jeans.
"Careful," you remind him as his claws come dangerously close to poking you.
He grumbles and fumbles with the zipper, squinting.
"Are you sure you're sober enough for this?" You pat his head.
"Yeah, 'm fine. You take them off," he demands. "I'm going to rip them otherwise and I know that's your favorite pair."
You grin and wriggle out of them, pushing his snout back and making him wait while you get them all the way off along with your panties. He squirms in place, his soft muzzle digging into your palm. Finally, you lean back against the couch and give him the green light. He dives between your legs, prying them apart. Your hip joint pops and you wince.
"Sorry, sweetheart. You used to be pretty flexible... What happened?" He licks your inner thigh and nips at the skin there.
"I stopped working out," you admit ruefully.
"Tsk. How am I going to get you into a mating press if I have to worry about you pulling a muscle?" He replies.
You giggle at that, but you're not laughing for very long. He's looking up at you, and you see the way his pupils blow out as his tongue flicks out and drags against your pussy.
"God, I forgot how much I love this," he groans. "Fuck, the way you taste. Gorgeous."
His tongue is hot as he tastes you, his nose a cold press against your clit. Now and then he growls, and the sound vibrates through you. He's greedy for more, dragging you further down the couch so you're completely open to him. He forces his tongue inside you and scoots even closer, his breath hot against your thighs.
"Come on, sweetheart. You want to come, yeah?" His voice comes out muffled and broken between hitching gasps. "Come all over me, gorgeous."
He's the one who sounds like he's falling apart.
You play with your neglected tits, cupping them in your hands while your fingers tease your nipples in maddening circles, copying what his tongue is doing. You forgot how good Vale is at giving head. You don't even remember why you let them leave in the first place. Never again. You gasp, grabbing Vale's head and holding him there. Your orgasm is toe-curling and delicious and snatches your breath away.
When you come back to your senses, you're being manhandled by Vale into a better position for him to fuck you. It's instinct for a wolf to make sure their mate has at least one climax to prepare them, but with Vale, just one is never enough. However, it looks like he can't wait anymore.
"Oof," you grunt as he pushes you back rather roughly. "Hold on just a second, something is poking me."
You fish a hardcover book out from under you with moments to spare as he settles between your legs, yanking them apart. Your hip pops again but you're past caring.
"Gentle, Vale. It's been a while since I had anything as big as your-"
He isn't listening. He nudges his hips forward and sinks an inch into you. The flared head of his cock is the largest part except for his knot, and you're not happy about that.
"What did I say about being gentle?" You exclaim.
"Need help?" Quyne calls from the kitchen and he sounds amused, the bastard he is.
"I'm fine!" You reply stubbornly, biting your lip.
Vale attempts to stuff more of himself in and you shoot up on your elbows, teeth bared in a silent, primal snarl.
"Wait."
"Sorry," he grunts and looks a little cowed, but with the way his cock twitches inside you, you know he isn't really.
You lie down and take a few deep breaths.
"God, I forgot how big you are," you murmur.
Vale leans over you, flicking his tongue over your nipples, his teeth teasing at your skin in a way that always makes you hold your breath. He's never bitten you accidentally, though.
"You're so tight," he whines, tracing the blunt curve of his claw over your pussy lips, rubbing it against your clit. "You feel so good. Now?"
You shake your head and grab a throw pillow to hide your smile. You love seeing him get worked up as he struggles not to give in to his desire even as it clouds his eyes. He bows over you, nuzzling at your neck and fighting the urge not to bite. You love being bitten but you have to admit that the healing process sucks.
"Fuck," he hisses, shuddering. "This is torture, sweetheart."
A giggle slips out of you and his ears prick forward, eyes narrowing. He rips the pillow away and you can't help the huge smile on your face. He snarls and you shiver.
"You are going to pay for that."
"Ahhh wait! I'm sorry!" You squeak.
He slips out of you and you whimper at the feeling of suddenly being empty. He fists his cock, precum coating his palm and fingers. The insides of your thighs are slick too.
"Turn over. On your hands and knees," he bites out.
Oh shit. You've really done it now. You turn over a little reluctantly.
"Head on the couch. Yeah, just like that." He admires your ass for a moment, and you feel the couch shift behind you.
"Vale?"
He grabs your hips and yanks you back against him. Your hands scrabble against the couch for purchase and you shriek when he impales you on his cock. Your breath is knocked out of you when he pulls out and thrusts back in. The stretch is almost too much and you struggle to keep yourself up under him as his weight forces you down. His hips snap forward at a brutal pace and you have to grab the arm of the couch in an attempt not to fall over. He ruts into you and you wonder how it'll be when he's fully in heat. This is already almost too much to handle.
"Slow down," you beg, even as the pain starts to warm up into pleasure.
Sitting and walking is going to be hell tomorrow.
He grabs your hips and hauls you back onto his cock, hissing dirty words in your ear about how much you like this and how you complain but you're wet enough for both of you to hear it. You moan in response, arching back into him, giving in.
"There we go," he praises, yanking you up onto your knees, a hand circled lightly around your throat.
You reach down to play with your clit and help yourself along. From the way his thrusts get erratic and his growls get deeper, you know he's about to cum.
"Not... Not inside me okay?" You groan. "You can't."
He's too far gone into himself to listen. You attempt to do it yourself by pulling away. He slings an arm around your belly, holding you captive against him.
"I'm sorry, I have to. I can't stop."
"That's no excuse,' you grumble, but you're already resigned to your fate because you knew it would be like this.
"Come on, play with yourself, sweetheart. Cum for me. You can do that, right?" He murmurs against your ear.
You nod, bouncing along with his thrusts. You slip your hand between your thighs, touching your clit just the way you like. Orgasms are a moment of blissful ignorance for you and Vale takes advantage of it to force you onto his knot. You muffle a scream into your palm as your pleasure racks up a notch. Vale whimpers and bites his palm to spare you his teeth, grunting as his cum pours into you. Some of it would have spilled out if you weren't locked so tight around his knot. He murmurs sweet nothings into your ear and rubs your belly as you both catch your breath.
"You cheated," you point out, limp in his arms. "You're lucky I like you otherwise you'd be getting a talking to."
"Mmhmm." He sinks back against the couch with you on his lap, purring contently.
You relax against his soft body and close your eyes, basking in the afterglow. You feel a gaze on you and open your eyes to see Quyne in the doorway.
"The table is set!" He notices your predicament and smirks. "Oh, never mind then." He turns and disappears.
"Can you bring me a plate?" You beg.
Quyne reappears with a full plate of food. "I can do better than that. Poor baby, you look exhausted."
He settles on the couch to feed you, and he even lets Vale have a few bites.
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strawberryforks · 2 days
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if the teacher leaves, so do we // jj maybank x reader
summary: detention sucks so you decide to leave—an attractive blonde follows
warnings: swearing (maybe i don’t remember)
a/n: requests are open!
word count: 769
“‘m pretty sure the whole point of detention is that you’re supposed to sit there and feel guilty, cupcake,” said the tan blue-eyed blonde. his skin was sunkissed, his hair too. you looked him up and down (somewhat appreciatively, but what of it? you had eyes) he was tall, or, taller than you, wearing blue cargo shorts and a red tee shirt. the material was dark and slightly tattered around the collar. “eyes up here, babe.”
your eyes snap to his, lip curling in false distaste. it’s a practised response - one you don’t entirely mean. “don’t flatter yourself.”
hands raised in mock salute he grins, “oh, i’d never. i’m jj, what’s your name? haven’t seen you around here before.”
“in detention? that’s usually because i leave. i prefer to sit and feel guilty in other places. which,” the door slams, the teacher slips out into the hallway, his feet clicking against the linoleum tiles. you rise, palms pressing down onto the desk. you unzip the backpack sat on the ground beside you and stuff everything you own inside of it. pencil case (full of something distinctly not school friendly), binder (full of assignments you should probably do), water bottle, notebook–and then you empty your pockets too. an actual pen, a blue BIC, a few squashed cigarettes, a pack of gum, and some bandaids. you’ll sort it when you get home. or… you won’t. whatever.
you walk over to the left side of the classroom, where sun streams through the row of windows and a glance over your shoulder shows the blonde, jj, frowning. you lift the window open and lean out through it, lowering your bag as far down as you can before dropping it onto the grass below. then you duck down and swing a leg out. then the other one.
“what the hell are you doing?” a chair slides back and he moves over to you. he looks determined–to stop you? that won’t be happening. quickly you jump, bending your knees to absorb the shock and rolling. jj peers out after you, “hey! wait!”
with your backpack where it should be, on your shoulders, you look up at him. “the teacher left, in my books, that means i can too.”
“pretty sure that’s not how it works!” jj shouts down to you.
“it’s not like i’m going to climb back up–that’s a second story window, you know. just go back to feeling guilty!”
jj disappears from view for a second and your shoulders sag. you’re relieved. Your turn and start to walk away when a back slams into the back of your legs. then, there’s a less than graceful THUMP and jj is running over to you apologies spilling out of his mouth. he helps you up off the ground. “i didn't mean to hit you i–i’m sorry. are you okay?”
a goofy grin splits your face as you let him help you up, “no, i’m y/n.”
his eyes widen in shock. dad jokes are the best and you’ll stand by that until the ocean dries up. “i’m fine though. joining me on my jailbreak?”
“guess so. the extra hour of freedom will be nice. what are you going to do with it?”
“my friend madyson texted. she said the waves were great so i’m going to grab my board and head down.”
“you surf?”
“yeah. why?”
“mind if i tag along?”
“just because i surf doesn’t mean i babysit, maybank. i don’t do lessons and i don’t know how to do CPR.”
you ate your words. an hour later
jj had sworn he knew a spot. and he did. the waves broke perfectly and as he paddled out to a large on you were left wincing. the wave was taller than he was and whether or not you knew CPR you were a strong swimmer (or you liked to think you were) hopefully you wouldn’t have to test your resuscitation skills. “dude, seriously! be careful!” he dropped in on the wave and rode it perfectly.
three other waves, you only catching a small one, and you scowled. “wave hog,”
he laughed.
“oh shut it, you want a shot?”
the sun was setting and the two of you were sitting on the beach, wrapped in towels in front of a smouldering fire. “you're cool, jj. a damn good surfer.”
“me and my friends go out all the time. we’re fishing tomorrow–you can come along if you want.”
you nod. “you can beat me in a surfing competition any day, but you’ll never out fish me.”
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