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#but i DIDN'T know he had a full on account
lazyjellyfish300 · 2 days
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Gentleman part 2 🌼💌
GeneticistCEO!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern College Student!Reader
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Synopsis: after receiving a generous gift from Dr. O'Hara, you intend to thank him the next day. Word count: 5.8k
A/N: a little Fifty Shades of Grey inspired with the whole document situation. Here's what Dr. O'Hara looks like btw. 🫶🏽
TW: suggestive (no smut but talk of sex, alludes to sex), heavy kissing, bullying, little angst, some controlling behavior, Sugar daddy relationship, ooc Miguel , boss/employee relationship, I don't condone IRL
Part 1
@scaleniusrm @laysmt @to-the-endoftheline @oharasfilipinawife
------
You feel like you're floating as you read the note over and over again etching every curve and spike of Dr. O'Hara's messy signature on the card into your memory. You lean in, smelling the gorgeous flowers, closing your eyes, a warm feeling making itself known in your chest. This truly felt like a dream come true. The way this went from one of your worst days to the best in a matter of hours. This mysterious, handsome scientist being the cause. Everything about your life changed in a matter of minutes. You were going to go to bed hungry, and instead woke up to a 5 star meal and your favorite flowers.
"What is that?" Isla asks sharply, causing you to spin around, tucking the card under your arm. 
"Nothing.....just-ah...some flowers....and food."
"What the...." She takes a step closer, scanning you suspiciously. She smirks, "I didn't know you had a boyfriend." 
You feel your face heat up and try to shuffle away quickly in annoyance. She takes note of the way you're turned away, trying to conceal the card and who it's from. 
"Well come on, who is it?" She presses. Heather and Vivian walk up and stand next to her in mutual curiousity. 
"He's....um.....Greg?" 
"Greg?" 
"You don't know him." With that, you bolt for your room, leaving your roommates with raised eyebrows and suspicions. 
You lock your bedroom door behind you and place the takeout bag on your bed, first arranging your new flowers on the windowsill in a vase before you dig in. When you open the bag, there's three different entrees of your favorite things to order from the restaurant, two of your favorite appetizers, two desserts, and two large to-go cups filled with two of your favorite beverages and those delightful pebble ice cubes that gave that satisfying crunch and sounded so heavenly when it clattered against the plastic. 
As you took your first few bites of the piping hot food, you leaned back in your bed with a sigh of contentment. You could probably die and go to heaven with how delicious everything was, your belly and your bank account nice and full.
You stood up and changed into your favorite pajamas and lounge wear, putting a show to watch on your phone while you continued to eat to your heart's content with your gorgeous bouquet as the perfect backdrop against the setting sun outside your dorm window. 
-------
The next morning, you woke up, deciding that you'll get to Alchemax bright and early to give Dr. O'Hara a proper thank you. You figured this would be a one time thing and nothing you could do would be enough to pay him back, not to mention the moral implications of a manager doing this for one of his interns. He really put it all out there for you and you didn't want it to go unacknowledged. 
You wrote out a heartfelt letter on some notebook paper and grabbed a poppyseed muffin from the common area and hoped that he'd appreciate the thought behind it. You did your hair, dressing in one of your nicer outfits, makeup just the way you liked it and walked out the door with a spring in your step. 
-----
Alchemax 
Miguel took a generous sip from his coffee mug. It had a picture of him and Gabi as stick figures that she drew in preschool as the custom design he had printed on the mug. He looked at it fondly with a little smile as he remembered his reason for it all. 
His eyes widened when he saw you standing at his desk, a muffin in a brown paper bag and a note in your hands. 
"Buenos Dias." (Good morning) He said pleasantly. 
You smiled at him, your heart pattering in your chest a little bit now. "Good Morning..." 
The way you finished your greeting made it sound like you had something else to say.  Miguel waited, his face a little unreadable as he left the floor open for you to continue your thought. 
You clear your throat. "I just wanted to thank you, for everything you did for me yesterday. It's-uh. It's just unbelievable and...and I don't know how I could possibly p-pay you back..." 
You reach out, offering him the note and the muffin. "I wanted you to have these..." 
Miguel's eyebrow raises. 
"I-I know it's not a lot....heh. It's absolutely nothing compared to what you've done for me...but it was the least I could do." 
Miguel hums and sets down his mug, taking the note and the muffin. "You're welcome...and thank you, for this..." He peers inside the paper bag. "Poppyseed?" 
You nod, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers out of nervous habit. 
"One of my favorites." He says with a little smile. However the smile quickly disappears as he walks past you to his desk. "I'm going to have you work with Dr. Drew and the junior intern group from now on." 
"Dr. Drew?" You give him a confused look. "But, I thought..." 
"I have something different in mind for you." He said shortly, sitting down and opening his laptop, peering over his glasses. "I believe Jess's direction will be better suited for your needs. Her group has an opening anyway." 
You feel your stomach flop. This was unexpected and you didn't have anything against Dr. Drew, but Dr. O'Hara's group was extremely hard to get onto and this was basically a demotion. Senior Intern just looked that much more attractive on your resume. You were startled at having this change so quickly, uncertain what this would mean for your career and the impression it would leave on your transcript. 
"Doctor...with all due respect." You said slowly. "I wanted to be on your team. I mean, I wrote that thesis, I collaborated on that project last year with Dr. Parker and I really really worked my tail off..." You feel a lump in your throat. "Please don't take me off your team." 
Dr. O'Hara looks up at you a little sternly from his desk, "I understand your concern, but trust me, this will be a better move for both of us. Jess is a brilliant scientist. One of my best. She will lead you better than I." 
"Is...does this have anything to do with what you did for me..?" 
Miguel cuts you off, a little harshly this time, saying your name in a firm tone. "Please. Do not argue with me. She's already expecting you and doesn't like to be kept waiting." 
You take a step back, a little alarmed and immediately regretful at pushing back. You turn around quickly, walking swiftly towards Jess's office without another word. 
-----
Dr. Jess Drew has a lovely smile for you when she sees you walk in. "Hello! Remind me of your name?" 
You give it to her and humbly enter the lab, a tall, young looking blonde with one side of her head shaved with the tips dyed pink, and another tall young man with curly dark hair are handling some lab chemicals with safety goggles on their faces, stepping back as the concotion begins to fizz. 
"Gwen and Miles here are studying chemical reactions. You'll help me supervise them." 
You nod, returning the kind smiles that they both offer you, before they go back to their discussion.  
"So, Miguel tells me you are studying Bio?" Jess asks, trying to start up conversation. 
"That's correct." 
"Wow, and you're going to apply to medical school?" 
You nod again. Jess smiles, impressed. "Well, good for you, girl. An Alchemax internship will definitely make you stand out." 
You give her a weak smile. "I hope so...to be honest with you, I didn't see this coming. I was kind of expecting to stay with Dr. O'Hara's group until December, then I could be eligible to apply for a full time position." 
Jess nods in understanding, a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "Well, I've known Dr. O'Hara for over a decade now. If he made any changes, it's for good reason and probably best for your individual career path. Can't argue with the CEO." 
"CEO?" Your ears perk up. 
 "Oh..." Jess gives you a little embarrassed smile, nodding towards Gwen and Miles as she motions for you to join her a little further away out of earshot.
"Yeah...he recently started the whole internship program and likes to be hands on with up and coming scientists, so they're fully prepared to work under him and meet his standards. He hates it when people bring up his status as CEO. He just is under a lot of scrutiny and dislikes media coverage in general, so he keeps quiet about it...don't tell anyone I told you that." She murmurs to you with a wink. 
Finally, it all makes sense. The money, the lavish gifts, how powerful he was. It made sense Miguel was the elusive CEO of Alchemax that liked to hide from the public eye, despite Alchemax's blaring position in the limelight as the cutting edge of innovation for science and tech. A crowning jewel for the economy of Nueva York, putting them on the map as a technological hub and source of income for over 200,000 employees. 
You nod and go back to helping Jess, Miles and Gwen, continuing to work while being unable to get Dr. O'Hara to leave the back of your mind.
----- 
When it's time to leave and go to lunch, Jess stops you after Gwen and Miles had already left. "Hold on a sec!" 
Jess hands you a small white card with elegant gold trim around the edges. 
"You're wanted in the executive suite for lunch. Floor 99. And the code is written down here." She points to the neatly printed black numbers on the card.
"Now, this is important. You are forbidden to share this code with anyone, let alone tell anyone you were up there this afternoon. Got it?" Jess lowers her voice. 
"For-bidden. Meaning if you tell anyone, not only are you fired, but I am too, because I was the one who gave it to you. And I have no problem hunting you down... got it?" She shoots you a warm smile. 
You smile back, understanding she's mainly joking, but just trying to emphasize the importance of keeping it confidential and covering herself. You nod. "Absolutely...I'll, I'll guard it with my life." 
"Atta girl." 
You smile and walk out to the hall towards the elevators, impossibly wondering why on Earth your presence was needed in the part of the building less than a handful of people had privilege to access.
-----
You punch the button for floor 99. Nervousness and jitters rising in your body almost in sync with the glass elevator's ascent, passing floor after floor. 
Finally, floor 99 arrives with a loud ding. The doors open, revealing a polished marble hallway with a large, fancy door at the end. You walk down it, the sound of your shoes echoing off the walls, noticing the they are adorned with some of the finest artwork.
Cubism style paintings that must have cost a fortune. You pause at one of them, admiring the art, then resume your walk again, arriving in front of the large door. You look to your left and there's a small keypad. You enter the code: 
2-0-9-9
You jump back, startled as the door automatically, slowly creaks open, revealing a lavish, lounge suite. Floor to ceiling windows cover the wall on the far end you're facing, a wall with various pieces of tech and advanced looking gadgets are organized in a black case to your left. Gentle harp music playing from a speaker fills your eardrums. There's several tan, cozy looking sofas and sleek coffee tables in the middle. A water feature is on the wall to your right, tranquil water trickling down polished rocks and lightly splashing into a peaceful pond with green lily pads dialing up the degree of luxury. You walk towards the windows, taking in the afternoon cityscape of Nueva York and discover a huge buffet table laid out in front of it. 
Platters of the finest pastries and breads: croissants, Challah, assorted bagels, muffins, brownies, danishes, strudals, fritters, and the like. Next to it is freshly cut deli meats: ham, prosciutto, salami, pastrami, turkey, and roast beef arranged beautifully on wooden planks. Then a huge collection of cheeses  with cheddar, swiss, havarti, muenster, fresh mozzarella, a large wheel of expensive looking brie, raclette, camembert, and smoked gouda with elegant serving utensils.
Your mouth waters as you take in the sight of an enormous porcelain bowl of fresh fruit. The juiciest, greenest looking grapes you've ever seen with plump strawberries, fresh pineapple, delectable looking kiwi, freshly washed raspberries and mango. 
If you thought that wasn't enough food, there's also salads in crystal serving bowls: Wildberry, Cesar, Cobb, and a yummy looking pasta salad with bowtie noodles. 
You hear sharp clicking of stilettos behind you on the marble and you turn around. 
"There you are!" 
Lyla comes walking up to you with a smile, a little frazzled from all the other errands she's been running this morning, wearing a pink blazer with slacks to match, her brown bob hanging neatly around her cheeks.
"I'm glad you could make it! Miguel is running a little late. He's in a meeting, but in the meantime you're welcome to begin and get served up, then if you want to just have a seat at that table." She points to a large oak table next to the waterfall.
 "Oh, and what juice do you want, sweetie?" 
You blink, so overwhelmed by all of this fancy food and attention. This level of luxury something completely foreign to you. 
"Um...what do you have?" 
"It's all freshly squeezed." She says with a smile and adjust of her glasses. "Umm, lemme see if I can remember...okay, yes we have orange, apple, grape, cranberry, mango, passion fruit, grapefruit..." 
You think for a moment then tell her your selection. 
"Great! Coming right up. Oh, and there's also a coffee station, water station and assorted teas over there." She points to the end of the buffet table as she hastily walks into another room. 
---- 
A short time later, you're sitting with your huge plate of food and three drinks, munching away with a content look on your face, watching the city below outside the window as you dine on the fancy lunch. 
A door opens on the far end of the room and Miguel comes walking through, loosening his tie and shrugging off his blazer. Your cheeks heat up as he approaches, his white dress shirt clinging to his body and sparing you no detail of every bulking muscle of his figure, an endearing slight pudge of his stomach and a little smile on his face as he greets you for the first time. 
"Is the food to your liking?" He asks gently, draping his blazer over the back of the chair next to yours. 
"Oh! Um, yes. Yes, oh my God. Everything is amazing. Thank you, doctor..." 
"Miguel." Miguel responds firmly. "Please call me Miguel from now on." 
You nod, "Miguel..." 
Miguel's body gets warm at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He's a little ashamed because he'd love to make you say it again...a little louder eventually. 
"Well, eat as much food as you like. Feel free to take some with you. I'll have Lyla package it up for you." 
Miguel walks over to the table, dishing up his own plate. "I'm sure you might be wondering my reasons for all of this. Why I changed your internship and why I invited you here." 
Miguel finishes dishing up his plate, just a generous helping of the Wildberry salad with vinaigrette and a croissant, sitting next to you. Sauvage by Dior coming off his neck making you clench your hands into fists. 
"I invited you here because...I want to be straightforward with you. I'm very intrigued by you."
Your lips part, your fork falling out of your hand and clattering against the porcelain plate making you jump. A trace of amusement flashes across Miguel's face, then he returns to looking at you with a sincere  expression. "I've taken an interest in helping you with your career. With this medical school journey you are on." He continues, turning his attention to his salad, stabbing some of the lettuce.
"I'm a man who makes deals. If you are comfortable with it, I'd like to work out an agreement to where I provide you with anything you might need or desire in terms of funds, clothing, food..." He coats the bite of lettuce in some dressing. "In return, all I ask for is your complete loyalty and companionship. With the ability to negotiate what that looks like." 
You dab your mouth with your napkin, trying to make sense of what he's telling you. If you weren't mistaken it sounds like, "You want me to...be your sugar baby?" 
Miguel smiles, blowing a little air out of his nose. "For lack of a better term, yes." He takes a bite of his  croissant, then a generous sip of lemon water. 
"But, why. Why me? I mean...all the other girls in my dorm at my college, the smart women you work with, surely, there's someone else that would be a more equal fit to you. Why such an interest in someone like me?" 
Miguel pauses, setting down his fork. "Because I see in you what you don't see in yourself. You have potential. You're smart and determined. You've demonstrated you can work hard. You're different. I've noticed you're a lot kinder than your peers. You're humble, and you don't show off." He smiles. 
"You're a perfectionist and you put extra care into your work. I want to make your dreams of medical school happen for you. I see an investment that's very worthwhile." 
"An investment?" You ask. "I'm just a business proposition?" 
Miguel chuckles. "No...no....you are certainly more important than that. Traditionally, with these kinds of arrangements, there's a...a more intimate component to it." His brown eyes shine with the tiniest hint of mischief. "Typically, I'd provide all of this for you, and you'd give me something in return." 
Your breathing gets a little heavier. 
Miguel notices your flustered reaction and smirks, putting a reassuring hand on yours. The warmth of his palm radiating over your skin. "But, my mother raised me to give freely, without expectation of receiving anything in return. I would be fine providing for you as long as you'd let me. As long as you continue to work hard for my company, perform well in your studies, and agree to not to see anyone else while we are involved with one another, but I'm getting a little ahead of myself."
You remain silent, a quiet analysis underway in your mind as he slides a folder to you with a fancy ballpoint pen, the click of it alone sounding like a year's salary. "Open it." 
You obey and open the folder with shaky hands. A lengthy, formal agreement is neatly typed in small black letters, with ample blank space in between some of the clauses of the agreement, presumably for any changes you'd like to make. 
Miguel opens his own copy of the document, taking another fancy ballpoint pen in hand. "Now...this first paragraph details the money aspect of our arrangement. Since I sent you $1,000, that would be considered an advance on your allowance, and I would not send another payment until two weeks from yesterday. Unless, you are needing more before then?" He asks. "Why don't you list all of your debts for me and their respective amounts, and I'll write them down here." 
You nod, going through the list. There's your phone bill, your Netflix account, Spotify, your insurance, groceries, your three maxed out credit cards, a personal loan you owe the bank, as well as anything you need such as toiletries, medicine, and clothing. Miguel takes note of each one and writes it down. The room silent except for the gentle flick of his pen. 
"Perfect. These won't be an issue at all." He scans the next paragraph. "Now, for this portion, I need you to fill out this form." 
He slides you a new paper, and your eyebrows furrow in curiosity as you look at its contents. It almost looks like a personality quiz, asking for your favorite foods, drinks, places you like to go, your favorite colors, your favorite fashion brands, what makeup you like to use, jewelry you prefer, your height, and measurements. 
"What are these for?" 
"These are for me. So I can take care of you properly." Miguel says. 
You feel the area between your legs get hot when you notice one of the items. "F-favorite... position..." 
Miguel smirks. "Like I said, we can negotiate on that portion. I'm not expecting you to do anything intimate with me if you are not comfortable. But if you are..." He stands up, leaning over you a little bit. 
"Then I'd like to know, so I can pleasure you accordingly. In just the way you'd like..." 
You can feel yourself getting dizzy. Everything about this arrangement seemed so good to be true, you had yet to find any downsides to it. But it felt wrong, almost naughty. This man who was supposed to be your boss, now turned into your personal butler, chef, piggy bank, providing and pampering you with anything and everything a girl could possibly dream of or want.
"I...I might be okay with little things like...I don't know...kissing?" Your face heats up and you look down at your lap. Were you really talking out loud, in explicit detail about a proposed physical relationship with your boss? 
Miguel smiles and nods. "Alright..." He jots that down. "Anything else?" 
"Anything but...sex." you say the last word quietly as though it was a sin. 
Miguel gives you a reassuring smile, perking up a little bit in excitement at the idea of you opening yourself up to him a little more physically. "Could you be more specific?" He asks quietly. 
Your face burns and you look around to make sure Lyla or someone isn't around. 
"It's just you and me, cariño..." He says quietly, leaning a little closer to you. "I need you to be as specific as you can about what you are comfortable with doing together. Nobody will know, but you and I..." 
His tone is gentle, just above a whisper. You feel your insides curdle into honey. "Um...kissing, like making out..." 
"Mhmm..." Miguel nods slowly, writing it down. "Please, go on." 
"Um, touching..." 
"Over, or under clothing..." 
"Um.." you bite your cheek, trying to keep your composure. "....both." 
Miguel cocks his head at you, a smile curling on his lips. "You sound unsure." 
You shake your head "No I'm, I'm sure..." 
Miguel looks at you curiously. "You don't need to lie or say what you think I'd like to hear." He sets down his pen. 
"To be frank, your pleasure is positively correlated with my own. In order for mine to be optimized, yours must be completely satisfied...and I'd like to get as much as I can." 
Your eyes flutter and you swallow, nodding. "Ah-okay.... Um...yeah let's just do touching outside of our clothes for now." 
Miguel hums and takes note. "We'll revisit that part later, when we have more time. This next section is extremely important." 
He runs his finger down the page. "Now, these are just a few housekeeping items. I prefer minimal public displays of affection, and if there are any, they are extremely modest. Any public dates we go on will be limited so you are not spotted by the press. You are not to post of our relationship on social media. You must reject any romantic advances from anyone else. Does this all sound okay?" 
You blink a little at the rigid terms but nod. "Okay, yeah, understood." You look back down at the document, scanning over the next paragraph, noticing the next section, "Transparency...so, I'm allowed to ask you any questions I have before I sign the agreement?" 
"Yes, any questions you have, I'll answer. So you know what you're getting into." Miguel says, leaning back in his chair. 
"Have...have you had relationships like this before?" 
Miguel nods. "Yes, I have." 
You gulp, a little uneasy at his answer but you slowly digest it. "Have they been...employees of yours?" 
Miguel pauses as he recollects his memory. "No, admittedly. You are the first. That's why I moved you under Jess's leadership. To try and avoid any entanglements that would compromise my business."
You nod, biting the tip of your pen thoughtfully. "It says here you don't do marriage?" 
"Marriage? No. That's correct. I will not marry anyone." 
You hesitate. "Can I ask why?" 
Miguel nods, taking his seat next to you again. "I built this business from the bottom up. It means a great deal to me. I have entirely too much to lose. My fear for the security of my assets, along with the messy emotions of a marriage are why I refrain from entering into it again." 
"You were married before?" 
"Yes, once. She passed away shortly after my daughter was born." 
"I'm sorry..." You say quietly. 
"Don't apologize, it happened a long time ago. But, my not wanting to get married has caused many of the women who were in your position before to end the relationship. I understand if this is a deal breaker for you." 
You contemplate for several moments. Marriage was something you dreamed of, but with all of the amazing benefits he was offering you, perhaps you could put up with a ring being taken out of the equation, for now. "I think I can handle it." 
Miguel smiles and nods. "Very well...just know that you can terminate this arrangement at any time, and I won't harbor any feelings of animosity towards you if you do. I understand my requirements are extensive, but I intend to make sure it's completely worth it and you are happy and taken care of. If you sign this agreement, you will still be mine entirely. Anything you desire, anything you want. I promise it will be yours." 
His hand finds yours again. "Now...if you'll sign, please?" 
 
You quickly write your signature on the bottom line. A small breath leaving you as he tucks it back into the folder. "Wonderful...thank you. This means a great deal to me...with that said and done..." He takes you by the hand, helping you stand up. 
His eyes look into yours. You hold his gaze, a look of wonder on your face as you look back at this beautiful man who just promised to be all yours. Your wish his command. Every pretty and fine thing in his world at your disposal. He purrs quietly, bringing you closer. 
"Will you put your hands on my chest, please?" He whispers. 
You obey, your lips parting as you feel the dense muscle underneath your palms. A quiet rumble vibrating through him at the sensation of your touch. Your eyelids droop when you feel him bringing his hands to your hips. 
"And...I can put my hands here...?" He murmurs. 
You nod silently, wetting your lips. 
Miguel smirks at this, his own eyelids becoming heavy and he leans down towards you a little bit. "Can I have a kiss, before you go?"
You utter a shaky breath and nod, "Yes..." 
He carefully and gently presses his full lips against yours in a delicate kiss. He was softer than you were expecting. He hums quietly and begins slowly to open his mouth against yours, releasing little breaths into your mouth when you hold the kiss. 
Any anxiety you had about this arrangement seemed to dissapate as quickly as your lips met in a tender first meeting, your body now reacting with a mind of its own, your hands slowly sliding up his body, finding the back of his hair. 
Miguel grunts a little eagerly, pleasantly happy with the way you're responding, and he pulls you closer, sliding his tongue into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, using one of his hands to angle your head, requesting permission to leave his kisses elsewhere besides your lips. You groan and tilt your head back, letting him gently move his lips along your throat. He chuckles against your skin. "Perfect...." 
He sighs and cups your face in his hands, looking at you with adoring eyes. "I have to go away on business until Friday..." He brings you back in for another kiss, gliding his tongue across your lips, smiling as he hears you moan open mouthed into him. 
"Mmm….this...should hold me off until then." He presses his forehead against yours. "In the meantime, don't forget to fill out that paper of all your favorite things." He nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours. "I also need your phone number." 
You beam at him and eagerly enter your number into his sleek phone while he gently kisses the top of your head, watching you do it. Before you part, he speaks up. 
"One more thing, with me, you will be looked after and offered personal protection." 
A man enters the room. He's tall and lanky, sporting a grey turtleneck under a fancy tweed black trenchcoat and circular framed glasses with dark brown hair. He's rather cute and looks like a mashup of The Matrix meets Peaky Blinders. 
"This is Noir. He will be your personal driver. You're to let him know where you're going at all times and if there's anything you need, okay? He has my number as well, so any questions or concerns you have for me, you can also relay to him in the event that I'm unavailable." 
"Ma'am." Noir greets you with a friendly smile and polite kiss on the back of the hand. "Your wish is my command. Your safety and comfort is my utmost priority. If you're stuck in front of a train, my only job is to throw myself in front of it." 
Miguel clears his throat, a little annoyed with Noir's dramatics. "Yes...right. Take her home, please. Make sure she has anything she needs until Friday." He pulls you back in for one more kiss and hug. "And I'll see you...." He kisses you tenderly. "Very soon...¿Vale? (Right)
"Right..." You agree, giving him another gorgeous smile. "Thanks, Miguel. I'll miss you..." 
Miguel gives you a warm smile and one more peck on the lips. "Awh...te extraño más(I'll miss you more)." He winks. 
"Take care of her for me, Noir." 
"You got it, boss." 
----- 
Noir drives you in a sleek Mercedes back home, opening your door and making sure you have everything you need before he drives off into the night. 
You walk in your shared dorm with a big smile, only to have it wiped away when you open your fridge. Your leftovers from your takeout last night were missing. You close the fridge with a frown and walk towards your room, pausing outside Isla's room. You hear her voice along with Heather and Vivian's speaking in low volume which abruptly cuts off when they hear someone approaching. 
"Hey..." 
The three girls look up at you from their places on Isla's bed as though you killed their cat. 
"H-have you guys seen my food that was in the fridge?" 
"Don't know, don't care." Vivian snaps. 
You tense up, wondering where this hostility is coming from. "I don't get it, what's wrong?" 
"Nothing's wrong, except Professor Hill came in and bitched at all of us not cleaning the bathroom." 
You take a deep breath. "Okay...but, I told you guys last week, I'm tired of being the only one who cleans it, and this week I'm not doing it, so one of you needs to decide who's taking a turn this time." 
"Um, actually it is your job this week. Since you want to be a whore and sleep around with the boss." Heather says, crossing her arms. 
You feel a knot in your stomach. 
"What are....w-what..." 
"Huh, um what, duh?" Isla responds, mocking you in a deep voice with dramatic facial expressions. "Stop playing dumb. Now you think you're hot shit, getting to skip out on work now that you're his little slut and he's sending you flowers?" 
“First of all, it's none of your business, second of all, why are you privy to any of this, Isla? Did you go into my room while I was gone?” 
“It's none of your business, since you wanna play that game with me, you hoe.”  she retorts. 
"It's not my fault he chose me over your desperate ass, Isla!" 
Isla pauses, then chuckles darkly. "Oh sweetheart...." She gets up, shoving past you and racing towards your room. 
"What the-" you attempt to run after her but Heather and Viviana hold you back, pushing you against the door. "Ow-stop! Please!" 
Isla takes the bouquet of flowers from your window sill and the card, "ThAnK yOu FOr tHe sAnDwICh and fOR yOur DiliGEnt woRK fOR mY depaRtmEnt. EnJOy- Dr. O’HArA!" She reads in another mocking tone. 
"Isla, those are mine!" Heather and Vivian restrain your arms, preventing you from entering your room. "Stop!!" 
Isla smirks and opens your window, tossing the gorgeous bouquet of flowers out of it. 
Your heart sinks from your chest to your stomach and you bolt outside, Heather and Vivian cackling at your expense. 
Your lip trembles and eyes fill with tears as you crouch down, trying to pick up the pieces of the shattered vase and the tattered flowers that lay on the ground. 
----
Noir notices you're not as talkative as he drives you to work the next morning. “Long night?”
“Eh…” you try to brush it off. “Just issues with my living situation.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Noir asks, adjusting his mirror so his gray eyes look into yours. “I'm all ears.”
You make a tiny scoff, running your tongue along your teeth as you recount your confrontation with Heather, Isla and Vivian, sniffing as you tell him how they've made your life hell and picked on you ever since you moved into the sorority.
Noir nods, taking silent notes in his head as he quietly drives.
“Hey…” Noir says to you as you go to exit the car. “Don't let the bastards get you down, little lady.”
You crack a small smile, nodding and entering the building with a loud sigh.
----
After work, as you slide into the backseat, you gasp at the sight waiting for you. A fresh bouquet of red roses and babies breath even bigger and more gorgeous than the old one, with a new note from Miguel.
This vase is shatterproof. ;) Please tell me if they give you any more trouble. You're more precious to me than any flower. I hope this proves it.
All yours,
-Dr. O’Hara
----
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thatacotargirl · 2 days
Note
Hiii, I saw your posts about taking requests! (loving Shadows and Surprises btw 👏)
How about a nice fluffy one-shot (take your pick of the bat-boys 😊) where reader wakes up on her cycle with bloody sheets and bad cramps, and she starts apologising about the sheets but she's in a lot of pain, but he immediately takes care of her and pampers her (changes sheets, runs her a bath, gives tea and chocolate, lots of cuddles and kisses, etc)
Ahhh I love this, it's so cute! Thank you so much for the request - I hope enjoy!
Inbox is open for requests so please do send any through!
Warnings: blood, vomit, general pain (?)
A Cassian x Reader Imagine
It had been a few months since Rhysand had introduced you to his Inner Circle. What started off as a small part-time job working on his accounts and book-keeping turned into a full-time lifestyle. After the first 2 weeks of proving yourself invaluable to him and his Court, Rhys invited you to move into the House of Wind and work alongside him full-time. Your tiny studio apartment with mould, rats, and goodness knows what else inside the walls was not the most luxurious of lifestyles, and you had already grown so attached to the rest of the Inner Circle that you jumped at the opportunity. It also helped that you had developed a teeny tiny crush on the delicious male that was Cassian, so living in the same home as him made life just that little bit sweeter.
Life had, truthfully, never been better.
Yet today, you felt sluggish. Tired. Frustrated. And what made it worse was that you had no reason to feel that way. You had slept well, eaten well, trained that morning - you should be at the peak of your health. But today was finding every possible way to challenge you. After confusing an 8 for a 3 for the third time that afternoon, you threw your pen across the study in complete exasperation. What was going on!
At that moment, the study door cracked on a touch, and the familiar scent of Cassian wafted in.
"Are you ok in here y/n? I heard a bang?". A bang was an understatement considering you had chucked a gigantic book on the floor in your frustration that near shook the House.
"Yes I am fine" you replied through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and look at him. You had tears in your eyes for reasons you could not explain, and you didn't want him to see you like that. Why on earth were you now crying over a 3?!
Cassian walked over to you and gently held your chin, pulling your face to look at him. You breathed in his scent, feeling an instant calm, and took a deep breath. When your eyes met his, Cassian looked at you with concern.
"You look exhausted, y/n, have you been sleeping?" he asked.
"Yes, Cassian, I have been sleeping - I think I'm just having a bad day that's all" you replied, a little too harshly, pulling your eyes away from his so he couldn't see the tears re-forming in response to his gentle worrying. You response made Cassian's concern grow, so he bent down, scooped you off the chair, and carried you out of the study.
"CASSIAN PUT ME DOWN" you shouted, smacking at his shoulders, mindful to avoid his wings.
"Not a chance. You look like you need to sleep, and considering you nearly bit my head off when I asked, I am insisting that you at least humour me with a one hour nap" he retorted, carrying you up the stairs to the second floor. You noticed that you passed your own bedroom door, and had been walked straight into Cassian's. He put you down on his bed and walked over to draw his curtains. You started to protest, but you couldn't deny that his bed was particularly comfy, and his scent had such a calming effect on you that your lids were already getting heavy.
"Sleep", Cassian said, pulling the duvet up to your chin. "I will wake you in an hour".
You wanted to argue back, but you hadn't truly realised how tired you were, and with the warmth, the scent, the darkness, the quiet, you found yourself quickly drifting off for your Cassian-prescribed nap.
-
The door creaked open exactly one hour late, and Cassian froze. He couldn't sense a threat, couldn't see anyone in his room besides you still curled up asleep in his bed, but he could scent blood. He padded over to you, concern lacing his voice as he gentle called your name and shook your shoulder to wake you.
"y/n? It's been an hour, are you ready to get up?" he asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. You stirred and slowly leant up on your elbows, peering at him with half-asleep eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but suddenly felt yourself hit with an intense stomach cramp and your mouth watered with nausea. You flew from the bed, pushing Cassian to the side as you headed straight for his bathroom. A few moments later and Cassian was beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back.
When you had finished, he carefully leaned you back against the edge of the bathtub.
"Are you ok?" he asked, his face etched with worry.
"Better now I think", you replied, "I'm so sorry Cassian I don't know what came over me, maybe I ate something funny, I was feeling a bit off all day before you found me".
"So when I asked if you were ok earlier, you lied" he said, although the corners of his mouth tipped up into a small smile.
"Potentially" was all you could get out, before another wave of pain and nausea took over your body and you crawled back towards the toilet.
"I'm just going to head down and get you a glass of water, ok? Stay here" he ordered, before turning quickly on his heels and heading out.
After you had finished, Cassian still hadn't returned, so you decided to hoist yourself up and get back into his bed, feeling a bit better on the nausea side - although still having some stomach cramps. It was when you reached the side of the bed you had been sleeping on that you looked down and saw the large pool of blood covering the bed sheets. Gazing down, you realised it was not only covering the bed, but also covering you - bright red coating the entire inside seam of your pale blue leggings, almost down to your knees. You shook violently, panic and embarrassment taking over your entire body. You quickly threw Cassian's pillows on the floor and started to tear at the bedding, wanting to get it off and change it as quickly as you could before he could realise, but you had barely got half of the bed sheet off the giant bed before Cassian re-appeared in the doorway.
You turned to face him, a tray in his hands, and crumpled onto the floor. This is exactly what you needed today - the hot General that you have a major crush on has tried to do something nice for you and you have completely put your foot in it and destroyed his bed. Great. Just fab.
"Hey hey" Cassian quickly put the tray on his desk before dropping down to your level. "What's the matter?" he asked. You couldn't even get the words out between your sobs, gesturing blindly at the bed and yourself. You hid your face in your hands, utterly mortified.
Cassian's confusion was so evident that you dared to glance up at him. "Are you ok?" was all he asked. You nodded, then shook your head, then resumed sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and let you continue until your tears turned to small sniffs.
"I guessed when I opened the door" he said quietly, his hands stroking through your hair. "Your mad dash to the toilet was all the confirmation I needed - you almost sent me flying off the bed and, whilst I train you well, you're not normally that strong" he teased.
"I'm so sorry" was all you could get out, head still buried in his chest.
"Nonsense, what is there to be sorry about?" he asked.
"I ruined your bed".
Cassian laughed and helped you both stand up. "I quite literally cause people to bleed for a living. A bit on my bed is hardly cause for concern". He guided you over to the tray he had brought upstairs.
"So, I have got you some peppermint tea to help with the nausea, Rhys gave me a tonic he gives to Feyre to help with the pain - but he said Feyre always complains about how bad it tastes, so there's a lemon drop sweet for after just in case - and I stole a slice of Elain's chocolate cake that was in the fridge because I thought you might like that - oh and some cheese. I'm not sure why, but I thought you might want some, I always think cheese helps make any situation better, but maybe not if you've been sick..."
He was so excited as he showed you all the goodies he had found for you that your embarrassment fell away completely, even though you realised he must have announced your situation to the entire house downstairs. Before you could make any comment, he grasped your shoulders and walked you back to the bathroom, where the House had run you a lavender scented bath.
"Hop in the bath, freshen up, and you can enjoy the cake" he said, with a beam. He handed you a fresh set of pyjamas he had taken from your room and closed the door behind himself to give you some privacy.
After your soak, you changed and headed back into his bedroom. The sheets were fresh, with no sign of your incident, and Cassian was lounging on his side with a book in hand. You noticed that the book you had been reading, a smutty romance recommended by the House, was resting on the other pillow. Cassian must have grabbed it from your room when he got the pyjamas. He smiled at you when you came back and offered you a hand to climb onto the bed next to him.
"You are staying in here tonight, ok?" he said, "I don't want you to be alone and refuse help if you need it, especially since you were so stubborn earlier".
You laughed, quite happy to stay in Cassian's bed. He pulled the tray over to you both and offered you the peppermint tea and a fork for the chocolate cake.
"OH WAIT, take the tonic first!" he said, handing it to you. Feyre was right, it was disgusting. But, it did help the dull ache in your stomach, enough so that you were able to happily enjoy your slice of stolen chocolate cake. You made a mental note to apologise to Elain tomorrow.
After you were quite full and content, and had settled down to read for a while, you felt your eyes getting heavy again. Cassian noticed, and pulled you into him. You revelled in the comfort, enjoying every moment of it - you didn't think you'd ever get another chance to be this close to him and you certainly weren't going to pass it up.
"Sleep", he said "it'll help". He started to read aloud from his book, helping you to ease into a deep, deep sleep. One of the best sleeps of your life.
"Thank you, Cassian, for everything" you mumbled, eyes closed.
"You are welcome, y/n" he replied, pulling you closer to his body.
You were silent then, your body and eyes heavy, your brain slowly quieting and shutting down for the night. You felt Cassian lean down, assuming you had fallen asleep, and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. As sleep called to you, you heard him very quietly whisper into the dark, "I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, y/n".
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salaimoi · 2 days
Text
first story from my new, ongoing series: talk to me nice. feel free to leave any constructive criticism! (I can handle it, unlike Gojo)
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"Look, I didn't ask for your stupid advice, so don't pretend like you know everything."
Gojo hissed at you, nearly popping a vein from how smug you were being right now.
The only thing you suggested was that he stop dressing like somebody’s grandpa all the time – he had a physique carved by the gods themselves, why not put it to use? Such a waste, honestly.
"Mm~ whatever. So sassy," you replied, followed by an eye roll violent enough to nearly cause your eyes to fall clean off your skull. “Ever heard of constructive criticism?”
"Yeah, yeah. You know, instead of just giving me advice all the time, why don't you compliment me for once? You know, say something nice about me — it's not that hard. "
"Me? Compliment you? Gojo please. Unless you wire me every single yen in your bank account, you won't hear a single praise come out of this mouth.”
Even though he himself felt very frustrated right now, he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the banter – so much so that he would begin to grin as he tried to control himself from bursting out laughing. You were playing a dangerous game here because he could actually make this deal happen, and you were perfectly aware of that — but despite that, you were still trying to push his buttons and he’d make you eat your words because of it.
"You know what, I think I will actually do just that. So let me ask you, what happens when I send over every yen in my bank account, will you genuinely compliment yours truly?" he smirks in that usual arrogant manner, growing more and more interested by the second. "I better get my money’s worth, you know."
Still thinking he was bluffing, you replied, "Obviously. But you only get one compliment."
"Humm~ fine, and it better be the most heart shattering compliment in the history of compliments — soul crushing even. Now, I'll go ahead and transfer you the money," he paused for a moment before remembering something rather important. 
"I need your bank account number to wire the money."
"W-wait … you're not serious are you?”
"Why would I lie? I’m serious about this and you'll also be serious about your part, got it? So I need that bank account number now."
"Are you insane!? I was only kidding, genius!"
"Maybe I am, but I'm doing this because I really want your compliment. So don't try to discourage me because for every minute we spend arguing here, I'm losing my patience.”
And it wasn’t like he needed your flattery; he just wanted to hear you sing his praises as a contrast to your usual behavior. You were always so cold and apathetic around him, but he knew that wasn’t the real you — and he took it upon himself to reveal the side you buried under that stoic facade. 
“So just tell me your bank account number and I'm going to transfer the money to your account right now — the full 59 billion."
Your body froze in utter shock as you realized he was dead serious. Straightening yourself on the mattress, your mouth hung wide open — staring at him in disbelief. The realization of it all was enough to cause one of your eyes to twitch in perplexity.
"Gojo you must've lost your mind if you think I'm gonna accept that,” you scoffed at how insufferable he really was, but secretly loving every second of it. "Who in their right mind would spend ¥59 billion on one compliment?"
"Only people who can afford it, of course,” he smirks cynically, tossing his phone up into the air just for it to land right back onto his palm. “If you ask me, ¥59 billion is too small a price for a compliment directly out of that pretty mouth of yours.” 
“You’re insufferable. For fucks sake, you should have a mental disorder named after you.”
“But you can't actually deny that I'm pretty charming, can you? You might not show a hint of  affection, but I think it's pretty obvious that you like my insufferable attitude. Or are you gonna deny that you don't?"
He unlocked his phone, opening the banking app and going into the transfer section.
You didn’t hesitate to smack the phone out of his hand, causing it to fall down on the bed. 
"Satoru, are you even listening to me!!??"
"Heh~ you're actually quite impressive when you finally get serious. You were really quick there with that tiny hand of yours.”
“This tiny hand of mine will be enclosing around your neck until you’re out of oxygen if you continue to act like an unsupervised child with access to money.”
His expression was thoughtful for a few seconds before he pointed at you, flashing his pearly whites.
"You know, you're actually pretty attractive when you get all aggressive like that. It really looks cute on you. I don't know if I can actually handle someone who's this much of a pain in the ass but still has a cute side to her."
He chortles, leaning back on the headboard before continuing, "See? That’s how you compliment someone, wasn’t that hard now was it? Now you do it.”
Your eyes narrow, two fingers rubbing at your temples as you contemplate the situation.
"You know what. Fine. If you want to recklessly spend your money like this, I'll give you what you want. No comment until I see that money in my bank account, though."
This reply made him burst out laughing, his grin becoming a bit bigger and he began to speak with a playful tone.
"Alright, if you say so. But just remember, it'll be too late to back out after I've already sent the money…”
[One new notification: direct deposit from Gojo Satoru received. New balance: ¥59,000,000,000.024.]
"..."
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
"...you have nice eyes?"
"..."
"..."
“I want a refund right this instant, y/n.”
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Text
Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost
Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.
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Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.
He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.
He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.
He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).
He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.
He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.
In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.
That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.
Telemarketers.
He never got telemarketers on his pager.
He hated telemarketers.
But that didn't mean he blocked them-
"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.
An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."
Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.
So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.
"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"
Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"
As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...
But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.
His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.
"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.
"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.
"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.
"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.
For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.
"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"
"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.
"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.
"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.
"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"
"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.
You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"
"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.
He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.
"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.
"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.
"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.
He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...
Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...
Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...
Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.
"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.
"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.
"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.
"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.
Huh.
There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.
No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...
But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-
"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.
Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.
"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.
Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.
After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.
You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"
"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.
He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.
"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.
"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.
"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.
Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...
It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.
"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.
"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.
"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.
"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."
Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.
"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.
Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"
Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"
"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.
You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.
"You're very frustrating." You murmured.
"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.
"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.
"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.
"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.
Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.
That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.
"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.
"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."
"And how did you know that?"
"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."
"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.
"No, I already knew you were trolling me."
"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"
"That's exactly it, Aiden."
"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."
"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.
"I know what I was doing."
"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.
You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.
"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.
"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."
Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."
"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.
"And why's that?"
"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.
"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.
Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."
"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.
"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.
You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.
It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.
"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.
"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"
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thefallennightmare · 2 days
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Head cannon camboy!noah and his favorite viewer!reader
Ovulation horny is different breed 😂
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I definitely had to ask what a cam boy was 😂 this is a AU version of Noah. Since I’m not familiar with how this cam boy and viewer stuff works, I’m going with a version I think works. y/u/n-your user name
Also, no judgement from this please 🫣
SMUT BELOW THE BELT!
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Anytime your user name came up on the screen, Noah couldn’t ignore the way his heart rate picked up.
He’d been one of your favorite accounts on this app, one you specifically sought out in those weak moments when regular porn didn’t do it for you.
You'd been a frequent visitor to his page a lot the last few months and even had him do some private videos for you. In those private videos, you would type your messages and he would respond verbally with his answers to the camera he had set up. Over time, you two had built this short of weird relationship online.
You had a picture of yourself on your profile, and so did Noah.
However, both of you didn't know each others names
With the little chat box up in the corner of the screen, you typed out your message to 'ConcreteKing'.
Y/U/N: Anything special planned for tonight?"
He smirked at the camera after he read your message. "Any requests, angel?"
You sucked in a breath at hearing his nickname for you. Since the two of you talked a lot during this private sessions and he didn't know your name, he decided on giving you a pet name.
You marveled at the way his long hair cascaded down his tattooed covered chest. Every inch of him was covered in colorful designs and he was lounging on his bed in nothing but a pair of black briefs.
Y/U/N: You know I'm a sucker for how you look cumming all over your hand 😏
"Anything for you, angel," Noah said before stepping out of his briefs then laying on his bed.
With how his camera was set up, you were able to see all of him as he spread his legs and took a fist full of his cock.
His breaths were short but quick as his hand moved up and down in a rapid pace.
You slipped your own fingers inside of your panties as you sat at your desk, watching ConcreteKing down right squeeze the life out of his cock.
You were soaked with your arousal as you gathered it to your clit, rubbing circles in a familiar pace.
"Shit, angel. I can't stop thinking of your mouth on my cock. I want to know your name so I know who to call out for," he gasped when his hips bucked up off the mattress.
It would be pointless to say type anything since he wouldn't be able to see it, so instead you kept up with touching yourself until his guttural groans echoed through your speakers as he came all over his hand.
Your own orgasm followed quickly after and you sat limp in your chair, trying to catch your breath.
While he cleaned up, you typed out a message to him finally, after paying him.
Y/U/N: My name is Y/N.
He smiled into the camera and you swore you would have melted on that spot.
"Y/N. I like that. My name is Noah. Come back soon?"
Y/U/N: Definitely 😊
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leatherbookmark · 1 year
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my favourite thing abt tumblr mass-finding out about the origins of the “poor little meow meow” phrase is a couple of people in the tags, who listen to things like, i assume, punk or rap, going “oh so THIS is what people got so emotional over? wow they wouldn’t last a day over here” or “ah, this, yeah a couple of guys from our side did it too”. refreshing
#i feel like it would also benefit people to realize that like. the fact that kpop is FULL of random phrases and more and more groups promote#overseas to the point of having the hour of their comeback be convenient for the US rather than just korea... absolutely DOES NOT!!!#DOES NOT!!! mean they all speak perfect (or even reliably passable) english and are knowledgeable about the things english-speaking#internet cares about. every once in a while there's a new twt storm because some idol says or does something insensitive and hurtful to a#group of their fans and its like. well yeah it's a horrible feeling but i cannot overstate how many of these idols just Don't Know Shit#like. idk. black people. i'd say most kpop idols -- who are just some guys and not tumblr/twitter users -- associate black people with like#music artists. rappers. they're cool and they have those cool braids! i'm doing a rap song and i want to be cool like them! lemme put on#those braid extensions! yahoo! <-- everyone hated that.#this is not to say that koreans are wee little babies who shouldn't be held accountable or that they're all stupid#but even despite kpop's insane worldwide popularity i doubt any of those idols are getting worldwide-flavoured sensitivity training#they're all perfect at saying cloyingly sweet bullshit to their fans -- i will love you all for the rest of my life! bro WHO would believe#that it's so embarrassing just sing your fucking songs -- but that's it! hell the younger groups are even bad at knowing how to act in thei#OWN country; with older idols complaining that the newbies talk to them casually (not using the polite language like you should) or even#flat out ignore/don't saw hello or bow to them. twt people are like 'korea has the fastest internet in the world' aye and they use it for#games and teenage internet stuff; not educating themselves on things they know nothing about#the sermon was 100% unintelligible to myg and he just picked it because it had a Tone that must have fit the image of the song in his mind#it's like all those people getting 'chinese' tattoos that say stupid shit like pork belly or baka gaijin or a bunch of misspelled character#tilted by 90 degrees#like i myself didn't know about the cult leader until the sample drama. so#some kp/op fans are absolutely rabid though. especially on twt#shrimp thoughts
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
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(She's) Off The Track
Y/N is pregnant, not allowed to race, and she's pissed about it
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When the video went up on everybody's social media, the fans panicked. It was similar, eerily so, to Sebastian Vettel's retirement announcement.
But she couldn't be retiring, could she? She was only in her mid twenties and hungry for a win. There was no way she was retiring already.
She sat there in the video, a white wall behind her, and stared. For a full two and a half seconds she said nothing, but it felt so much longer. Anxious fans waited chewing on their nails as they waited to see what was going on.
To Y/N, the person in the video, it felt like she was doing one of those youtuber apology videos. Well, this was a severe and continuous lapse in her judgement, but it had ended in something wonderful.
"It's with regret that I sit here before you all to tell you that I will not be partaking in the rest of the Formula One season," she said and breathed out, like a massive weight had been lifted from her chest. "In my place Liam Lawson will be driving in the second seat of the AlphaTauri."
"We thank you all for your continuous support and look forward to seeing all of you when I return to the grid next year."
She never said why, never let the fans know why she was going to be absent from the track. The fans still saw her everywhere, though. In the paddock, cheering on her replacement, or in the background of her boyfriends streams.
"This is your fault," she said as she sat on the beanbag behind Lando, placing malteasers into her mouth. "If it weren't for you, I would still be racing."
Although she sat it, it wasn't serious. It wasn't his fault at all. Actually, she didn't want to blame this on anybody; it was a welcomed surprise.
It had been a good sixteen weeks since she last sat in a Formula One car. There one race that Y/N wasn't at, leaving all the fans speculating where she could be. And then there was a two week gap between the races.
The next race she attended, something was clearly different. Lando held her hand, staying close to her while Martin Brundle interviewed her. He walked her to the AlphaTauri garage, something he didn't normally do, and didn't leave until she was being safely escorted by Daniel Ricciardo.
But the most noticeable difference was the baby bump was she sporting.
SHE'S PREGNANT!! said everybody online. It was maybe the best kept secret of the paddock.
Even though the secret was out, Y/N and Lando still didn't address it. If any interviewer tried to ask about the pregnancy, Lando would walk her away or place himself between her and the interviewer, protective fiancé mode engaged.
When the last grand prix she was allowed to attend before she had to stop flying rolled around, Y/N spent more time than usual in front of the car that should have been hers. Her hand rested on her stomach as she looked at the number 40 car. It should have been number 69, her driver number.
"Next year," she said through a sigh as Liam approached. He offered her a smile, the kind that said he sympathised with her.
Towards the end of the season she had to stop attending. There were only two races left and Lando was predicted to be on the podium for all of them.
And he was on the podium. She was forced to watch it from their television at home. She celebrated with a glass of water and a nap.
Y/N went into labour at the start of winter break. It was lucky, actually, that Lando was home and able to rush her to the hospital. He held her hand through it all and, soon, their baby boy was crying in his arms.
Ten months went by. Y/N and Lando spent the entirety of the winter break as a family, caring for their son, introducing him to the family (the grid family and their actual families) and celebrating firsts with him. When they brought him home, when he first slept in his crib, his first trip in the car, first trip in the zoo, taking him around the marina.
Lando took pictures of it all. His jpg account was full of these pictures, as long as they didn't show their sons face.
His first introduction to the Formula one world came when he was just ten months old, at the Brazilian Grand Prix. Before Y/N and Lando left their hotel, it had been a big debate over whether he was going to be wearing a McLaren onesie or an AlphaTauri onesie (Lando had won and they walked him around in a bright orange onesie).
The grid loved meeting Emmet "Chuck" Norris (Daniel thought he was really funny with that one). Emmets favourite people were Danny and Max, who had worked together to teach him to respond to his name of Chuck.
He sat in his parents cars and that was when Y/N and Lando knew, he was going to be a racer.
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primofate · 8 months
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You are the embodiment of fairness...
is what Neuvillette believes. There is not a single hair on your body that is selfish. Not a single thought in your mind that strays into evil thoughts.
The Chief Justice is just as fair, just as sensible. Though on you, he stays his gaze for a moment longer. Allows the slightest tug upward of his lips as you discuss the latest trial with him. The difference between the two of you? He doesn't think that he is as "well-behaved" as you are. There have definitely been times where he had thought to abandon his gentlemanly and prestigious image, just to lean in and brush his fingers on your cheek. Thankfully, so far, he hasn't done so, even though the two of you had decided to enter a romantic relationship.
The Chief Justice was very guarded, but so were you. The two of you were never seen together, only in the privacy of his home or yours did the two of you enjoy each other's company. Perhaps only his most trusted Melusines knew. Professionalism was important.
"I hope the next trial resolves to your liking, Neuvillette," you smile knowing what his answer would be.
"It isn't my thoughts that are important, Y/N-" he starts and he finishes his sentence at the same time as you chide in with him.
"It's the evidence. I know, I know,"
You bid him goodbye rather curtly, not even a kiss, just a brief pat on the arm. It's working hours, and it's not the time to do such a thing.
Working hours.
As the Chief Justice sat in court, trial in session, he locks eyes with you, the accused. He recognizes the confusion in your eyes as genuine, the hidden panic behind clear as day.
"Neuvil--Your honour," You catch yourself, voice trembling a little. "This is a mistake, it wasn't me,"
and yet all the evidence points to you. Photographs, witness accounts, the hat that you'd left behind in the crime scene. No matter which way you look, the answer was you.
"Guilty," was all he could muster, when he usually said more. His hand looked for the oratrice, hoping that the machine would give him something different, but he already knew it in his heart.
"According to the judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, the accused, L/N Y/N is..."
One second.
Two.
Three seconds.
Four.
The crowd started to bristle a little.
At five he opened his mouth, and closed it again, gritting his teeth in secret.
At six, he repeated his own words. "Guilty,"
Cheers erupted from the audience, he could not bring himself to look at your face, though he heard you loud and clear.
"No! NO! This is a mistake! I didn't kill anyone!" Your hysterics were comparable to a mother who had lost her child. To a hardworking man watching his hard earned house burn down.
"NEUVILLETTE PLEASE!"
The Gardes struggled, just as they always did, but you pushed forward, unable to understand nor accept what happened. At that moment you had not noticed the tears of desperation running down your cheeks.
You were going to that underwater prison forever. Dark and alone. What if the sea swallowed you? Or worse, what if the silence swallowed you? All by yourself hundreds of feet below, drowning was such an easy possibility.
Neuvillette almost grimaces, but keeps his face hard as stone. There are a thousand things running in his mind...but the Oratrice was absolute, and so was its verdict.
"Bring the accused to The Fortress of Meropide,"
The wails you let out haunted him, more than any other trial had.
Author's Note: Hello! This is just a quick update, literally wrote it in 30 minutes so excuse any pronoun slips or mistakes! I just wanted to let everyone know I am great and still playing Genshin! Just a quick reminder that The Ruthless Prince is still available on Amazon in paperback and all my previous works are still accessible in my Masterlist!
Do let me know what you think of this one though, and if you think I should turn it into a full fic!
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kerink · 1 year
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in light of people's confusion over cecil's longevity in @sexymanotd i wanted to document a bit of his history for those unfamiliar or nostalgic
welcome to night vale is a podcast written by joseph fink and jeffrey cranor. cecil gerschwin palmer is the main character and voiced by cecil baldwin.
it debuted on june 15, 2012 it reached its peak in popularity in 2013-2014
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despite this, wtnv has been one of tumblr's top fandoms since staff started tracking fandom-related data in 2014
for the longest time the only thing we knew about cecil's appearance was: "He is wearing a tie. He is not tall or short. Not thin or fat." and that wasn't until episode 19 which aired march 15, 2013. for almost a full year we had no idea what cecil looked like. so tumblr's collective unconscious kicked into high gear and we did what we do best
we created a tumblr sexyman
from know your meme: "Defining traits of the archetype include skinny body type, trickster or villain role and dapper clothing."
know your meme identifies wheatley (portal 2, 2011) and the onceler (the lorax, 2012) as being likely tumblr's first sexymen. and the onceler fandom was at its peak in 2012-2013, the same time as wtnv. in addition to this, the hannibal fandom has been cited as one of the contributing factors to wtnv's success on tumblr.
so tumblr had created an archetype that worked and the wtnv fandom was made up of mostly hannibal fans - the foundation for putting cecil in a suit was there. and honestly? cecil's at work in the show, why wouldn't he be well dressed?
however, while this explains his attire it doesn't explain some of cecil's more unique sexyman features, namely the tentacles. for this we have to return to the 2014 fandom review analysis where you can see the most popular fandom at the time: homestuck
haven't you ever wondered why almost a quarter (189/923 at time of writing) of E rated wtnv fics on ao3 are tagged tentacles or tentacle sex? why cecil having tentacles for a dick is such a seemingly popular headcanon? well look no further then homestuck cultural hold over.
throughout all of this, the development of the sexyman archetype on tumblr and the rise of homestuck, one creator really stands out: kinomatika
kino was one of the most popular homestuck artists on tumblr at the time, popular for their eridan fanart. if you google image search "welcome to night vale" kino's art is still one of the first results you'll get
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their design was so popular in fact it was featured in wtnv related articles from the time
and yes there were absolutely other artists giving cecil tentacles and moving tattoos at the time, but it can't be understated the reach kino had and the influence their homestuck roots had on their design choices
i recommend going through the archive of @nightvaleartclub to see how cecil used to be portrayed back in the early days. unfortunately the earliest fanart i've been able to find is july 2013 and i find it hard to believe it took tumblr a year to draw him. although, i started listening at episode 5 and didn't start drawing him until then myself so who knows...
cecil has had tumblr's heart in a vice grip since episode 1, with "20,000 posts, 183,000 blogs and 680,000 notes using the #Night Vale tag" during its first week. tumblr's love for wtnv has always been fairly genuine, from the impact the writing has had on tumblr humor and future story telling, to how wtnv paved the way for lgbt+ representation in indi media, to how it popularized podcasts as a medium for story telling, to the little comforts some of cecil's quotes still bring people today
cecil is not only a founding father of tumblr culture, but also a blorbo of the people. cecil the character in canon has a tumblr account where he posts his art and slash fanfiction.
although cecil's character has developed over time and we've come to see what a ditzy, eccentric, brat he really is, changing his status from sexyman to babygirl, cecil is absolutely a character you should embrace. and you know what... despite what i've said in the past
#cecilsweep
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[ID: Images one and two are Google analytic graphs for the search terms "welcome to night vale" and "wtnv" between June 15, 2015 and January 27, 2023. They both depict very sharp spikes around 2013-2014 until the lines decrease greatly over time.
Image three is a drawing of Cecil from Welcome To Nightvale. He is white, with white hair, glasses, a third eye on his forehead, and he is wearing a suit. In the background is the silhouette of a neighborhood from the WTNV official art, a galaxy, and a moon. It is tinted purple. Image four is the always has been meme. Instead of the earth is the tumblr logo, and the text is: “a wtnv fansite?” “Always has been”. End ID] id thanks to @princess-of-purple-prose
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gojosprettyprincess · 3 months
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Synopsis - You were going through a really tough time and needed more money so you asked your boss Nanami for a raise but it seems like he has something else in mind. A/n repost from my account that got terminated
♡ ・゜・゜♡ ・゜・゜♡ ・゜・゜♡ ・゜・゜
“Fuck look at you clenching around my cock like a fucking slut". He groans as he bounces you on his cock.
"You dirty fucking whore bet you'll do anything for money wouldn't you".
This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't how it was supposed to be, you were going through a rough time ,struggling with money for the past few days, you'd hope your boss Kento would understand what you're going through and give you a raise even if it's something small, after all he's a jujutsu sorcerer, that man makes more money then you ever will throughout your whole life. But your boss had something else in mind.
And that's how you end up in the situation you're in right now, in your Boss office. His cock nested into your tiny wet cunny, thrusting himself inside of you as he kisses your neck.
"You have no idea how fucking long I've been waiting for this" he whispers against your neck.
"Always walking around in those tiny fucking skirts, its like you were begging to get fucked. Shit you looked so fucking hot, always making my dick hard".
You were surprised by that, your boss was always really nice to you, nice to everyone actually, always smiling at them and asking about their day, this side of him was very unexpected. What's even more unexpected was the fact that he wanted you.
"Wha- what"
"We shouldn't be doing this sir!" you squeaked.
"But you wanted a raise, didn't you? Well, you're going to fucking get it" he groans as he picks up the pace fucking his cock into your pussy from the bottom.
He hugs your frame, your breast against his chest as his arms tighten around you, he starts ramming his cock into your cunt at a faster pace, his cock brushing against your g spot with each roll of his hips while he's stretching you.
“Fuck Ken, It's s'big" you moaned loudly, as if they aren't other people in the next room, feeling split apart completely around his cock, he was so big, biggest you've ever had.
“Your so fucking loud” he grunts as he lands a harsh slap on your ass, “Fuck, you want everyone to know how much of a fucking slut you are clenching around my dick like this don’t you”?.
“Tell me how much you fucking love my cock you filthy bitch.”
"Lo- love it s'much" you try your best to make out.
"Fuck have i really fucked you dumb already that you can't even talk properly" he groans "your gonna have to do better than that princess."
"Your cock feels so good inside of me daddy, its s'big!" you cried out, feeling his cock twitching inside of you.
"Good fucking girl, Hah Fuck, your gonna make me cum princess".
"you're going to be so fucking full after I'm done with you."
Your eyes widen with realization on what he meant. "N- no not inside, please"
"What about that raise princess?" "don't fucking make me change my mind, I'm gonna fill your slutty cunt with all my cum and you're going to fucking take it" he stands up with him still inside of you as he places you on his desk, your legs over his shoulders as he continues thrusting his cock into you.
"Hah, Oh fuckk" he moans, slamming his cock into you at as impossible pace, his nails digging into your thighs, you looked up in horror at what he's about to do "Fucking take it bitch."
You felt his release spurting inside of your pussy, filling you up causing your eyes to roll at the back of your head. His cock twitching inside of you as he slowly began pulling out, watching as his cum gushes out of your pussy, dripping down on your asshole onto the desk you were planted on. You were completely fucked out, trying your best to regain you breathe as you look up at him.
He slaps his cock against your soaking cunt, "You like being filled, don't you? you better get used to this if you want to get payed more or maybe you can just be my little office slut, getting payed to Cock warm me all fucking day."
Art credit - @JPparkGuardian on twitter
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roosterforme · 9 days
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 3 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You rendered Bradley speechless and left him wondering if your students were the ones who wanted to know what he looked like or if it was really you who was curious. He wanted to know everything about you, but the urge to ask for more was mingling with his duty to keep things professional. You and he teetered on the edge... until you didn't.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley looking hot
Length: 3100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Bradley found himself homesick in a way he never did before. He still had weeks and weeks of this deployment to go, stuck on the aircraft carrier, endlessly curious about someone he barely knew anything about and a classroom full of kids he'd never met. But he felt like he wanted to know more about you and them. 
At least he was too busy now to dwell on the fact that it had been days since the last mail call. He was never one who was lined up, eager to collect something from a loved one. Vanessa and all of his other ex girlfriends never sent him handwritten notes or snacks. He'd gotten sporadic emails in the past, but nothing that made him smile and laugh out loud. Never anything that made him sad when he realized he had reached the end of the note, hoping for more.
He wanted to go back to the lounge and check his email, but he was afraid he'd have nothing new to read. There was really nobody else other than you who would send him anything right now, and he was sure you had something better to do with your time than comment on the photos he'd send of his jet and the engine parts. And even if you had written back, how long could he really keep this conversation with you going? How soon would you run out of interest in his deployment?
Bradley knew he'd be much better at talking to you in person, but how the hell was he supposed to get there? Jesus Christ, you were probably married. You probably already had someone back home wrapped around your fingers, and here he was, still thinking about you. 
"Pitiful," he muttered, making his way to the lounge anyway. He would keep it professional with you. One hundred percent. But he still wanted to know if your students got to see the photos and if they had any questions about them. 
When he logged into his email account, his heart skipped around a bit when he saw that he had something new from you. Then he opened it up and read it, and his lips parted softly in surprise at what you'd sent.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
Bradley read it again. Still surprised, he read it a third time. Were you the one asking for the photo? It seemed like you might be. Or was he just projecting here? Shit. Maybe. He'd been thinking about how he'd respond if you asked him something personal, and this felt like you and he were teetering right on the edge.
You even echoed his own thoughts, but it still made him warm all over to know that you looked forward to hearing from him. That it made your day better when he sent an email. He decided he was going to keep this going as long as he could.
He logged out again and headed to the mess hall for dinner, because there was no point in responding until he had the photo you just asked him for. One where you'd be able to see exactly what every inch of him looked like. As he ate his meatloaf, his thoughts all settled on that one pertinent question: were your students really the ones who were curious about how he looked, or were you? Because it sounded like it could be the latter. He fucking hoped it was. And he fucking hoped you wouldn't be disappointed after tomorrow when he sent you exactly what was asked of him.
----------------------------
You thought you were ready, but you weren't. Not for this. Not for him. Not even close. Thankfully it was still early enough that none of your students were in the classroom with you, because Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw had responded to your slightly tipsy email from a few nights ago. He sent exactly one photo, and your only response was to softly moan, "Holy hell."
To say he was attractive looking standing there in his flight suit next to the jet with his name on the side of it would have been the understatement of the century. He was hot. Unbelievably hot. Top tier. You shamelessly zoomed in to get an even better look at his face which was complete with a crooked little smile and a fucking mustache.
"Who does he think he is?" you asked the empty room, voice filled with need. "The audacity."
Even his messy, wavy hair looked soft enough for you to want to rub your face and lips against it. Where did that idea come from? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs as the most delightful thoughts filled your mind. You already knew he was sweet, kind, attentive and humble, but now you knew he was easy on the eyes, too. If only you could hear his voice. 
After several minutes of uninterrupted gawking, you realized he'd written a few sentences to you as well, addressing you just as he always had. But this felt more personal. Maybe a little intimate.
For reference, I'm 6'1" and 205 pounds. That should give you and your kiddos a good size comparison, yeah? Also, just a little curious myself here.... are you sure they were the only ones who wanted to know what I look like? Or did you want to know, too?
So he called you out. Your whole body felt too hot and too light. You were floating off of your chair even as your heart pounded. You must be two feet in the air by now. He already knew what you looked like, but now you cared more than ever what he thought about you. Because you had a massive crush on your classroom pen pal.
"How embarrassing. You drunk emailed him! How are you supposed to respond to this?" you whispered as you closed your laptop and pressed your fingers to your lips. It was hard to tell if his tone was playful or not. He was smiling in the photo, which made you think that he was. But perhaps he was trying to put a stop to any topic of conversation that could be considered personal. 
Then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. No way was this man single. He was handsome. That would have been enough on its own. But he also had an impressive career, all of his hair, and he was tall. And that didn't even scrape the surface of his sweet personality! You couldn't embarrass yourself further. You just couldn't. You wanted him to keep writing to your class, because they were already so attached to him. You couldn't ruin this for them. 
When your students came flooding into the room, they led off with the same question they had every morning now. "Did we get anything in the mail from Lieutenant Bradshaw?"
"Not yet," you replied, still trying to decide how to respond to his photo. "But hopefully soon. He did email another picture though."
All of them were immediately headed for your desk, wanting to see what their pen pal looked like. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself as you opened up that photo again, and then the kids all interjected into your thoughts.
"His jet is so cool!"
"It's huge!"
"He looks exactly how I thought he would!"
"Can he send us more stuff?"
It took you a good, long while to get them all into their seats. Clearly you weren't the only one who was entranced by him. Their questions overflowed, most of which still had to do with the aviation topics you'd been teaching them. Bradley Bradshaw had turned your classroom upside down, in a good way. And the more you thought about it, the more you just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on something here. This man was better looking than the last three guys you went out with all combined, and he already made you feel tingly inside before you knew that for a fact.
You went home after work and did it again. You drank some wine and logged into your work email account and wrote back to him less than a day after he wrote to you. Part of you recognized that you'd look desperate, but you simply had to know so you could stop thinking about him if necessary. You started typing. 
It was definitely, absolutely my students who wanted to know what you look like. It had nothing to do with me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That being said...nice photo. Very nice.
My kids also wanted me to ask you if your spouse or significant other is in the Navy. And they'd like to know how old your kids are if you have any. Once again, just to be clear, I'm only asking these things on their behalf...
"Send," you whispered, doing it before you could stop yourself. Then you were left with your intrusive thoughts and the rest of the wine, ultimately deciding to just go to bed. He wasn't going to respond right away. He was busy working. You just hoped it didn't take too long. 
But it did. Days passed. You normally tried not to think about your work email account during the weekends, let alone check it. Saturday was miserable as you logged in almost hourly to check and double check if you had something new from Lieutenant Bradshaw. It was so bad, you ended up initiating a movie night with some of your friends, opting to lock your phone in the center console of your car rather than take it into the theater. 
Sunday was no better. You took yourself to the beach for the afternoon to try to read and sunbathe. But there was a group of guys in US NAVY TOP GUN shirts playing football, and you wondered if Bradley ever did this kind of thing with his friends. Or his family. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just write back and tell you if he had a pretty wife and six adorable kids who loved to play football on the beach with him?
When two of the guys in the TOP GUN shirts purposely threw the football toward your towel and tried to play it off as an accident, you didn't even feel like returning their flirtatious banter. Neither of them had a mustache or soft looking brown hair. Neither of them left you wanting to know more. 
You went home and tried so hard not to check your work email, but you failed miserably. But then you were happy you caved, because he wrote back. Bradley Bradshaw actually responded again. And a few seconds later, you were giggling and trying to control the squeal that escaped your lips.
When the mail arrived on the aircraft carrier yesterday, I was one of the first officers in line, and I wasn't disappointed. I got the second box from your class, and I can't wait to start reading and responding to everyone's notes this week. I'll let you know when you've got more mail coming your way. 
Since your students seem to be showing quite an interest in my personal life, please let them know I actually don't have a spouse or significant other at all. Nor do I have any kids. Their letters (and your emails, too) are the only ones I'm getting this deployment. No one else has been writing to me. Nobody stateside is waiting for me. I hope that answers their questions to your liking.
And now it's your turn to answer a question for me. Is there a guy in your life who is going to try to beat the crap out of me if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous? 
I'll just be waiting impatiently for your response.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
----------------------------
Bradley was so tired. The kind of bone deep exhaustion that only comes after the completion of a dangerous mission when your adrenaline finally wears off. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be back at home in his bed in San Diego with a soft, warm body next to his and a sweet voice in his ear. But he was picturing your face and your body, already convinced you'd have the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.
Shit. He needed to focus on what the admirals had to say instead of drift into daydreams.
"No need to report to the strategy room in the morning, Lieutenant," his commanding officer said as Bradley unzipped the top of his flight suit. "Take some time to rest."
He saluted the admiral and walked off toward his bunk and a hot shower. But even as the steamy water eased the ache in his muscles, he thought about how he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right now. Not when he still had a few messages from your students to respond to. Not when those notes always made him smile.
This time you'd only included a very short note in the box, but it wasn't typed up and printed out. It was written in your pretty penmanship on a sheet of lined paper.
Lt Bradshaw,
I hope this package finds you well. Please prepare yourself for approximately seven hundred more questions. Thanks again for sharing your time with us.
He didn't mind one bit. In all actuality, he was living for this shit, already thinking about how he could maybe visit your classroom someday soon. Several of the kids asked him if he could. They all asked him to take more pictures of life on the aircraft carrier. Then he laughed for a solid minute over the photo that Jayden sent of his Cocker Spaniel named Vanessa. 
But Bradley had purposely been neglecting his email inbox for the last few days. He was too afraid to read your words telling him that you were in fact taken, and that he was stupid for thinking you'd been the one who wanted to know what he looked like. He was rather enjoying the delusion that you might let him tell you how pretty he thought you were over email and maybe someday in person. He decided to respond to the rest of the notes in the box before getting rejected, otherwise it would be too hard to do this.
He finished writing back to Oliver and Cooper and then tucked the box away under his bed before drifting off to sleep while dreaming of his own bed. But the next day, he had literally no work to do. He's been given the entire day off. He hit the gym and avoided the married woman like the plague. Then he ate lunch and contemplated going back to the gym again, but his feet carried him to the lounge instead. At the very least, he promised you that he'd let you know when you had mail on the way so the kids could get excited. He should take the time to tell you he'd be sending more responses to your class by air mail.
Somehow Bradley had convinced himself so thoroughly that you were in a relationship, he almost couldn't fathom anything else. But there was a new message from you in his inbox, and it felt like a gift when he opened and read it.
Lt Bradshaw,
I must say, I was surprised to find out that my emails and the letters from my class are the only ones making their way to you. Not that I'm complaining. Not one bit. I just find it hard to believe that you don't have a lot of interested parties hoping for a chance to be the one you think about when you're deployed and all alone.
My last boyfriend didn't like it when I talked about my fourth graders. He didn't really see any value in what I do for a living. He would have never taken the time to read something they wrote let alone answer their questions individually. So no, there's nobody who would be upset with you for making me feel like there are butterflies permanently living in my belly now. If you want to tell me you think I'm gorgeous, I'm certainly not going to stop you.
Here's my personal, non school affiliated email address. Just in case you feel like using it. If not, you can keep responding here, and I can take the hint that we went far enough.
I hope you're doing well and staying safe.
Frantically, Bradley checked the date and time stamp. "Fuck," he growled, his fingers not quite able to keep up with his brain when he realized you'd sent this to him days ago. More than five days ago! "Shit. Fuck!" He had been keeping you waiting! As soon as he got his hands working at the same speed as his thoughts, he copied and pasted your personal email address and started a new thread like his life depended on it.
----------------------------
You were just curling up with a cup of sleepy time tea after a long day at work, wishing someone would put you out of your misery, when your phone vibrated on the couch cushion next to your leg. You were half tempted to ignore it, reasoning that it was probably time to accept the fact that Bradley Bradshaw already lost interest in you and delete his photos from your downloads folder. You should learn how to stop embarrassing yourself.
Then you glanced down and saw that you had a new email. It was from a now familiar sender. It had been sent to your personal account. You immediately scrambled to unlock your phone and read it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'd like to take it further.
Yours Truly,
Bradley Bradshaw
-------------------------------
What the fuck, Bradley, you smooth man! Take it further, take it further, take it further! I love how impatient they get when they want to hear from each other. Now go ahead and get a little more personal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who sent me messages and asks about this fic.
PART 4
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hanasnx · 4 months
Text
re-hash
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MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 0.9k WARNINGS: explicit sexual content | f!reader | established relationship | daddy kink | mild dacryphilia | size difference
JJ MAYBANK's no stranger to being called "daddy." It's practically one of the only things you wanna call him in bed, and something about it just hits. Maybe it's his own raging daddy issues, or the fact it signifies an authority figure, someone to look to. JJ likes calling the shots, and who better to call shots than Daddy? Before you'd introduced that petname to him, using it as a taunt was pretty common. In the midst of a fight, he'd tease his opponent with a little beckoning: "Tha's right, come to Daddy." If a variation was in order, he wasn't a stranger to switching it out for "Papa."
He didn't take into account how far it could go though. Addressing him as your daddy was commonplace, but while he's working on his bike, he gets introduced to something different.
"Pass me that, will you, duchess?" he asks, brows furrowed at the metal in concentration. He holds out his hand for you, and you walk while you read a little paperback book. The spine is weathered.
You hum confirmation, and toe over, plucking his tool from its location. Its hefty weight causes it to drop into his palm more than you meant to, but your focus is still on reading. "Here you go, pa."
He registers your words, and slows to a halt. Unlike him, you're invested in your story, index fingernail toying with your lip unconsciously. The crease in his brow deepens, tilting his head. "Uh," Looking at you through an eye because of the sun glare, upper lip raising to the corner of his nose like a curtain. "What was that, sugar?"
"Hm?" you question, raising your brows in question as you respond to his gaze with your own. "What'd I say?" You're not entirely sure what had occurred, the fresh words from your page still echoing in your mind.
"Called me 'pa.'" he reminds you, his twinge of southern twang apparent in his phrase. Unable to hold your eye contact, he glances down at the tool he fidgets with in his lap, picking off some dirt.
"I did?" In disbelief, you frown, a hint of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking—"
He shakes his head. Minutely disappointed you didn't double down. "No, s'fine. S'fine." He pouts his lips, and twitches his nose when he sniffs, scratching it with the back of his hand. "No big deal, sweet pea, I don't mind it." He returns to his bike.
Later on, he doesn't let you get away with playing dumb. "What was it that you called me earlier?" His arms shake with effort, holding himself over your head as his hips rock into you, your legs folded up on either side of him. "Huh? Duchess?"
"JJ!" you chide, but it comes out in a sultry whine, your body bobbing with his movements as his dick lodges all up in your insides. "What are you talking about?" There you go playing dumb, and he won't have it. Callused hand slots itself in the crook of your knee, hooking your leg over his shoulder to stretch you out. You yelp when his head hits a new and deeper angle inside you.
"Nah, nah, don't be like that." he snickers breathlessly. "What'd you call me earlier? Know you wanna say it. Lemme hear it, bae, c'mon," He goads you, and you can tell his accent is more defined at a time like this. It's mouth-watering. Or his long cock rearranging your insides is.
His blonde curls fall into your face as he looks down, watching your cunt slurp him up while you cry out each full sheath. Moans are practically shoved out of you, like there's no room to keep them inside when he buries himself to the balls in your little cunt. Worsening his pace, slapping skin on skin because you're not obeying him.
"JJ, it hurts! It hurts!" you sob, clutching onto the fabric of his side slit shirt he still wears. He pushes your hand off of him, picking himself up to sit on his knees. He tucks the hem of his top between his teeth, displaying his contracting abs as he gets into position. Briefly, you're granted a reprieve, but that's only because he's switching things up on you, slotting his hands under your hip bones to raise you, biceps swelling from the action. Desperately, you catch your ragged breath, until he handles you back onto his dick. He doesn't reintroduce you to inch after inch, no, he bottoms out straight away, plunging his length into you while yanking you into it. You thought it was hell before, now you're near tears, mindlessly reaching out to him as if to wordlessly ask for a breather.
He keeps his hardened concentration where your bodies conjoin, a ring of cream forming around his base, and he scoffs through his nose. You thrash, but you're spasming around him. "Guess this pussy can take some abuse, huh?" he asks rhetorically, muffled by the shirt between his teeth. "So squirmy. She's flexible, I'll give her that. How's about it, baby, wanna tell me now?"
You fist bangs against his forearm, taut from his hold on you, fingers digging into your flesh as you fight him. "Pa! Pa, please! Ugh, you're so mean!"
He drops his shirt so he can speak clearer, "Yeah, but your Pa fucks you good, huh? Right? Pa fucks you nice, and good." Deliberately, he rolls his abdomen, and in turn, pistoning his cock into you in way that has your lashes fluttering. His movements, forcing himself to be slow and steady, causes him to shake from effort, every muscle flexed as he fucks you. Your leg still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, and he feels your own tremble travel from your core to your toes. "Say it. Say it or I swear I'll tear you in two."
"You fuck me good, pa, you fuck me nice and good. Nobody does it like you, daddy, I swear."
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incorrectbatfam · 7 months
Note
If the batfam had tiktok what would they post? What would go the most viral?
Dick does duets where he remixes people who have bad takes. His most viewed one is turning Lex Luthor's corporate monologue into a dubstep track with beat drops every time Superman is mentioned. Equally popular is his mashup of Bruce's yawning with a Sam Smith song.
Jason makes cooking videos. The recipes are normal, but the voiceovers like, "today I'm making a realistic animal-themed vegan bento box 'cause I wanna torment my brother." His most popular video is of him shit-talking Batman while making a pot roast, but it gets deleted because he didn't say "unalive."
Tim does behind-the-scenes videos of his photoshoots where he makes it seem like a complex process with dimmed lights and glitter falling from a ceiling fan, then it cuts to a blurry iPhone pic of a pissed-off Jason with sparkly hair chasing him down a dark hallway.
Damian's is a mix of animal videos, art tutorials, Cheese Viking speedruns, and classical covers of anime intros. But his most popular one is recording his family's reaction to him saying the fuck-word for the first time. He also has a series where he asks people how babies are made to see whose response TikTok takes down first.
Duke posts subtle and wholesome pranks, like leaving Tooth Fairy money under the older batkids' pillows or gradually filling Kate's purse with Jolly Ranchers. His most popular series is when he slowly replaced Damian's furniture with increasingly smaller replicas until the 8th day when Damian finally notices.
Steph does a little bit of everything and often takes suggestions (re: dumb dares) from the comments. Her account started with her just sharing her favorite memes, but her most popular video is when she slept in a bathtub full of Mardi Gras necklaces after an audience poll.
Cass normally posts a mix of dance covers and sign language lessons, but occasionally there will be moments from her daily life that she captures at the right time. Her most viral video is at the grocery store when someone accidentally knocks a coconut onto the ground and she follows it as it rolls to the other end of the store.
Harper and Cullen do a lot of backyard science experiments where they take hypotheses from comments and test them out, like if they can cook steak with firecrackers or make a trampoline out of rubber bands. Their biggest project was turning an abandoned pool into a frog sanctuary.
Barbara keeps most of her daily videos private and her public ones are mainly book hauls, song recs, and computer tips. Her most popular video, even making news articles, is a video where she breaks down how planned obsolesce works and calling out big tech companies.
Bruce has a secret account that no one knows about. He doesn't post anything. He just lurks because he wants to be the first like and comment whenever his kids post.
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fqiryspit · 1 year
Text
FOOTBALL PLAYER EREN HEADCANONS
eren x fem!reader
cw: eren is head over heels for you, crazy fangirls, death threats, eren fucking you, you sucking him, etc etc
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you've been in a relationship with eren before his hair was that long and when he stumbled nervously over everything.
he still looks back and cringes, wondering why you wanted to date him
you two have been lifelong friends and once you started your relationship things really were perfect.
eren's football career really took off in college, and he got a lot more attention from the girls on campus rather than old men.
soon he and his team were absolutely famous and you were so excited for him -and incredibly grateful your relationship was swiped under the rug during that time. he had millions of fan girls posting fics and edits of him daily, it was insane.
you asked him to not speak on your relationship -because he got those questions a lot so he just responds with a simple "I'm happy" when they get asked
he wants to -so badly- show you off. to laugh at all his annoying fan girls and bring you out, but, he respects your decision.
after his games, he is absolutely wrecked. he flops down onto the bed and you climb on top of him and start massaging his scalp and he just moans into the sheets
"did you have fun?"
"how was I supposed to have fun when you weren't there?" he says, needy as ever
"errreeen I'm not gonna be able to go that far for every game" you huff
.
and this man loves to spoil you. designer bags out of the blue, wait, did you just eye that coat? no worries, he's just gonna purchase that really quickly.
eren truly truly loves you, he knows he is gonna marry you, it's just a fact.
he melts when he is with you, always needing to hold you in some way and just have you near.
he fanaticizes about your wedding and babies with you late at night or when he's balls deep in you
"fuck, can't wait to fill you up with my babies, gonna make you a mommy"
and by the way, after a game. a win or a loss, he's fucking you.
if he won, he's letting his victory in your pussy, ramming into you over and over while your legs bend in abnormal positions every two seconds while he babbles about how he couldn't get his mind off you the whole time
if he lost...oh man. he's taking all that anger out on you. it goes on for hours until he is finally drained and calm while you lay there full of his cum.
before a conference, you give him a "good luck suck" because he hates going to them, and this makes him feel a lot better <3
.
his fans are crazy, and once they caught wind of your relationship, all hell broke loose.
a photo came to light of eren simply hugging you. you know how careful he is with that stuff so you hid it from him, knowing he rarely goes on social media it should be a breeze, right?
you had your knees up to your chest and a twisted brow on, reading through the death threats and horrible comments made about your appearance.
you're an idiot for not privating your account in time, they found you and are coming in full swing.
you felt your stomach sink, you shouldn't let them get to you, but they're pointing out insecurities you've been trying to bury
"you okay?"
you look up to see eren, in the doorway with a concerned look all over his face. you turn off your phone and put a smile on
"yeah, just stupid stuff" you chuckle uncomfortably. he walks over and climbs onto the bed
"what happened?" "nothing, eren"
he looked at you for a couple more seconds, giving you the option to tell him what was going on. then his eyes slowly traveled to your phone you tossed across the bed. you reached for it franticly but he got it in time and as you yelled out his name he unlocked it with his face
everything on his face just dropped in an instant, he read through message after message about people wishing you dead, saying not-so-nice things about your looks, and more.
he asked when this started while he kept staring into the phone, then asked why you didn't tell him.
"I knew it would worry you, so I just-" "you need to tell me these things" he reached over to grab his phone as he started typing, you looked over to see him making a twitter post and you freaked
"don't say anything about it!" you plead, but it was too late, he made a simple post yelling at his 'fans' and then turned his phone off and held you
"please don't worry about those stupid messages"
.
in all, footballplayer!eren is the man of your dreams, and he hopes you haven't found the ring box in his sock drawer yet. <3
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an: love him sm <3
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reallyromealone · 12 days
Note
Rindou Haitani A/B/O where reader is pregnant with Rindou's child?
Or
Bonten x reader A/B/O but I don't really have an idea for this one 😔
Title: Surprise! You're a dad!
Fandom: Tokyo revengers
Pairing: Rindō Haitani x reader
Warning: Omegaverse, mpreg, male reader, angstish, reader is done, fluff, ran is ready to be an UNCLE, Rindō is a bit of a dick
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
(name) sighed as he went to the grocery store, a deep craving for salad and apples, fatty foods making him absolutely nauseous. Six months pregnant and exhausted, (name) did his best to make sure that his pup had everything needed for his birth, working full time at his job at a convenience store at the night shift, the pay better than day shift plus a part time job with at home accounting, something he did at the convenience store as there weren't any customers that late, the occasional person buying cigarettes.
It wasn't easy, (name) stressed to raise a pup alone but sadly didn't realize he was pregnant till it was too late to decide and only at 19, the father was someone he didn't bother looking for as he was not someone (name) believed he could rely on to be a parent, the man was a criminal be met at a party after all.
(Name) Was completely lost in his thoughts, wandering the store as he collected the veggies he craved and a few crunchy treats, unaware of those around him.
"Whoa, watch out now~" a voice said cooly as (name) looked up to see a very tall alpha with lavender eyes and a coy smile who looked at the adorable Omega with the round belly "should be careful, dangerous to not watch yourself" the Alpha looked familiar but (name) couldn't name where he seen him before, dressed in fancy clothes that were definitely designer.
(Name) Nodded and continued his journey to eat his veggies, his back hurting slightly as his pup kicked excitedly "yes yes, I know" he whispered as he glanced down at his stomach, lightly shoulder checking someone "you lookin' to d--holy shit" (name) recognized the voicr as he glanced to see the reason why he thought the tall one looked familiar "beans" (name) whispered to himself as he looked at the one night stand he was currently carrying the child of. Ran showed up, poking his head from behind as he looked at the two, glancing at their faces before looking at (name)s mark on his neck and then Rindōs and then it clicked "I suppose I'm going to be an uncle" he chuckled as he offered his hand to (name) "Ran Haitani, I suppose I'm your brother in law!"
"But I suppose it would be better if we went somewhere private, yes?" Ran said to his stunned brother as (name) sighed and walked to checkout to pay for his veggies, going into his side bag to grab his debit card when a tap could be heard as Rindō paid for it with an annoyed expression and (name) looked at him miffed "I can pay for myself" he grumbled, he just wanted to go home and watch his shows, not deal with with this.
But there he was in a diner, sipping his (non caffeinated drink) as the brothers sat before him "so you want child support or some shit?" Rindō said bluntly and (name) glared "if I wanted that shit, do you think I wouldn't have gone looking for you sooner?" (Name) Barked back and Ran laughed at the two "so why'd ya keep it?" Ran asked simply, the two brothers weren't exactly struggling for money after all "...I didn't realize I was pregnant till it was too late" (name) said softly "it's harder to know if your pregnant as a male Omega, we don't have periods so if we don't show symptoms we won't know" his voice trembled as he held his stomach and felt the kicks.
"You don't have to worry, we are fine... I have things handled" (name) didn't need his hand outs or anything like that, he was a big boy after all. "You're parents supporting you or something?" Ran asked, the Omega was awful young, Rindō mentioning the person who claimed him was 19 or something "my... My family isn't in the picture anymore... I had to drop out of university because of this... So they kicked me out" that was still a sore subject for (name), thankfully his grandmother helped him get settled into an apartment, she was across the country but still helped none the less.
"But I have things handled! It's fine!" (Name) Said seriously, as if he was trying to convince himself that it was actually as he said but the brothers didn't seem convinced "I have a job, I have a place and I have a space set up for my pup" he said seriously and looked at Rindō "don't worry, you won't have to be inconvenienced with child support because I don't need it"
"Do you know the gender of my little niece of nephew?" Ran asked, disregarding his brother completely as he looked at the bump curiously, he was definitely excited to be in the pups life as Rindō glared at his brother "how do we know it's mine?" Rindō wasn't about to go thinking he's a father if the kid wasn't his after all "Rindō, before we had sex I was a virgin" (name) said simply as he looked at him "do you think I would want to willingly put a target on my kids back because it would be so great to get knocked up by a gangster?!" He whispered the last bit as he glared at Rindō "it doesn't even matter! You're clearly not interested in being in my daughter's life and frankly I don't need you! Now I'm going to go home, goodbye Rindō Haitani" (name) said coldly and took his groceries before promptly leaving.
It was a few seconds before Ran looked at his brother "you wanna follow him don't you?" He said smugly and Rindō grumbled "I gotta make sure he doesn't die or some shit"
Ran cackled as they left the diner to look for the angry waddling pregnant Omega, spotting him turn a corner and the two booked it to trail him, people getting out of their way as they followed him.
A tiny house in a forgotten spot of Roppongi, old houses going form incredibly cheap these days and with the supposed help of his grandmother it would make sense he would have this.
(Name) Sighed as he walked inside his house, a labor of love that he's been putting in and making it perfect for his pup, many things thrifted and found cheap and with the monthly cheques from his grandmother helping immensely with this, soon he won't need those cheques but for now he will take what he can get.
What he didn't know was two alphas were currently getting his address down on their phones, despite Rindō being an ass, he wasn't about to let the dam to his children be living in such a shit box in his eyes.
And ran was ordering baby gifts and Omega gifts, having the time of his life.
456 notes · View notes
dragon-chica · 2 years
Text
"I Want To See My Little Boy!" Batmom
I ALMOST did angsty on Damian's. I almost did. But I'm not.
It's a time honored tradition that if Batmom calls for one of her children, one will be received.
Dick Grayson
It first started with Dick.
The mansion had gotten much more lively since his arrival, but at the moment, it was far too quiet. Moreso than you're used to in the past few months, and even if you were peacefully reading, it feels far too quiet without the small boy's talking, or humming, or singing, or general noise just being in your company.
You set your book down, glancing around the otherwise empty room with a displeased hum.
"I want to see my little boy!" you said loudly, voice carrying out of the room. You felt foolish, it was random and you didn't know what you expected out of it, but before you thought too much, you could hear the patter of small feet running down the hallway.
"I want to see my little boy!" you call again, a grin now on your face hearing him almost at the door.
He slides in, sock covered feet skidding him a good eight feet past the door on wooden floor.
Dick's smile is one that could rival the brightest sunshine, eyes closed and crinkled with joy and his arms stretched up as if to say "ta-da!"
"Here he is!" he sees you sitting on one of the couches and somehow his grin still widens at seeing you. His pace quickly picks up again, fully launching himself off the floor and into your arms, laughter bubbling from him as you return his hug with glee.
"My little boy" you coo as he can't stop laughing yet, making himself perfectly at home on top of you and your book.
Jason Todd
P.S. Jason is a tiny little child and you are strong.
It had been years since you had called your little boy, it had been years since you had a little boy to call to. Even if Dick did humor you doing so well into his teens. (he got quite a kick out of doing so, and always threw his full weight onto you for a hug each time.)
When you got Jason it wasn't really something that had been on your mind, it was just something you did with Dick that you figured was over as he grew up.
Jason was sat on top of his covers looking through his homework. It wasn't a great day, nothing especially bad but after greeting Alfred when he got home he'd gone straight to his room, quietly closing his door and wishing the day would be over sooner than later.
What Jason didn't account for, and never would expect, was for you to have seen how downtrodden your little boy looked getting home and decided to bring a plate of Alfred's cookies up after him.
When you see his door partially open, and a sad little boy emptying his backpack you set the cookies on his dresser and just wish there was some way to cheer him up.
You knock on his door once to alert him, and as he looks up Jason finds you with a big smile on your face and arms open towards him.
"I want to see my little boy!" there's an infection energy in your tone and you surge forward, lifting him beneath his arms and tossing him lightly in the air with a flourish.
"I want to see my little boy!" you repeat, catching him in a hug and twirling you both around, Jason's laughter fills the air as he swings around in your warm hold.
"I'm here! I'm here!" the words are blurred with laughter and it takes you both a minute to calm down enough to eat your cookies, but not without squeezing him in another hug before you let him go.
Tim Drake
Being honest, it was unfair how you were around Tim at times.
You were miserable, very much depressed and hated that at times you couldn't hide it. Being too quiet and letting your mask slip at times, and you hated Tim seeing that.
Little Timothy, a sweet and bright boy who you adored and always tried his best to cheer you up when he noticed your sadness.
And he did, Tim helped you so very much and could make you smile on a terrible day.
Dick also tried to cheer you up. Often coming to the manor to spend time and keep you company.
It Occurs to him before it occurs to you, he remembers how much fun he would have whenever you called out "I want to see my little boy!" how he would come running from anywhere into your arms. He also remembers the first time he saw you go after Jason the same way, the small boy's giggles and a joyful squeal being scooped into a hug.
You're not doing much when Dick calls you. It's a quiet day and you're in the kitchen debating doing anything when his face shows up on your call screen.
"Hey ma! Tell me real quick, do you want to see your little boy?"
"Huh?" You're confused, Dick hasn't done that in years, and you're not quite sure if you could handle him tackling you anymore.
"C'mon, c'mon, tell me you want to see your little boy!" You can hear the pep in his voice and a confused commotion behind him, you think he might have switched on speaker when it suddenly gets louder.
"I want to see my little boy?" You phrase it as a question, but it doesn't take more than seconds for the large kitchen doors to swing open, Dick holding little Tim below his arm and swinging him upright in both hands offering him like the lion king as he runs around the kitchen, small boy yelling in protest.
"Here he is!" They finally stop in front of you, Tim looking rather distraught and ruffled, hoodie bunched struggling in Dick's grip, who has a large smile giving you your prize. You wouldn't be surprised if he'd just grabbed poor Tim off the ground and ran with him here. Actually, you'd bet that's what he did.
You snort, Tim looks like a very scraggled kitten in Dick's arms, being swung back and forth a little in front of you for a reaction. You smile, opening your arms to catch him and Dick eagerly drops the poor boy onto you for a hug.
"Here he is." your words are muffled against the collar of his jacket hugging him, and Dick decides to join in, this time lifting you both from off the floor in the hug and laughing at your surprised squawk and Tim's further complaint.
Damian Wayne
Damian HATES this. With a burning passion, spewing death threats and curses to fill his swear jar every time it happens.
And it happens far too often for his tastes.
It happens at least once every time Grayson stops by, it happens every time Jason decides to grace the manor with his presence, Roy Harper even once had the nerve to join in on their 'imbecilic fun' when feeling especially bold once.
His father, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, even betrayed him by doing it once because "he wanted to see you smile". A ridiculous reason, not justified, and may or may not have put his father toward the bottom of his list of 'lifelong enemies'.
But he can't fault his father's reason. You did smile. Rather brightly at that. And while he wont say being swung around indignantly and "looking like an angry, murderous little kitten" as his brothers have called it, is worth his suffering, he does receive a hug each time and grumbles quietly before returning it.
The first time it happened to Damian is certainly memorable for everyone at the manor.
You had never expect Damian to join in on your boys' "I want to see my little boy!" tradition. Though all your other sons found great fun in doing so, all in their own fashion and happy to answer you call for company and a hug, despite how much Damian as grown in your time with him, you did not think this would be a line he would cross.
And he didn't, willingly.
You also figured if anyone tried this with him, it would've been Dick. Not only had he tossed airborn Jason and Tim at you in the past, but he was one of the few people Damian tolerated to a moderate extent, liked, even.
So when Jason came running down the hall with a screaming, murderous Damian flailing in his grip while held at arms length yelling death threats and promises of pain, it grabbed everyone's attention.
"Ma say you want to see your little boy! Ma say it quick!" It's urgent as he tries to dodge a swift kick without dropping Damian, leaping over a couch toward you as you finally snap out of your shock and laugh breathlessly.
"I want to see my little boy!" You can hardly contain yourself at how ridiculous and wonderful it is as Dick narrowly swipes a lamp out of Damian's grip just in time.
"Here he is!" Jason quickly dumps him onto your waiting arms, you hurriedly wrap him in a hug before he can lunge at Jason with fury.
Once Damian realizes it's you who's holding him back, both arms wrapped around his chest and trying to hide your snickering in his jacket, entire body shaking in effort, he slumps. Looking even more like a disgruntled little kitten accepting his fate. He can't risk hurting you, to kill his idiotic 'brothers', but he certainly wont admit he doesn't mind your hug either.
Tim managed to get the whole thing on camera, his sniggering in the background the entire time. It's one of your favorite family videos.
This is not a rare occurrence. In fact, anyone with the guts to try it (a few friends who may or may not have been dared into doing so) have brought you your little boy against their own safety. Damian is just so small, and carry-able.
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