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#i just think we should be a lil worried is all I’m saying!
bysaber · 7 months
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weeping dragon
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pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader
summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.
content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending
wc: 800
a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol
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Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.
He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?
You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.
A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.
“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”
You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.
“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.
The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”
It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?
Something you wanted to hold?
“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”
Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.
Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”
And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.
“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.
“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”
Worried.
She is worried.
The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.
“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.
I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.
Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.
“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”
Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.
“Neuv—”
“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.
The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.
“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”
And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.
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onlyswan · 8 months
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summary: in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.
> idol!jungkook x reader / est. relationship, fluff, angst / word count: 7k
> content/warnings: yea shirtless jungkook should be a warning… one (1) spank then he kisses it better, also gives a kiss to that lil bow on oc’s undies >:( + a flashback of oc crying and him getting stressed out bcs oc is a careless brat fr
> in which masterlist!
note: hehe i’m here <3 this drabble is basically just oc in a mood and jungkook being the sweetest bf ever 🤨 idk how it got this long either heh it didn’t feel that way at all while i wrote-edited? but i hope u enjoy and i’d love to hear ur thoughts 🥺 reblogs/feedback are appreciated !! <3
“oh my god- fuck!”
you cover your mouth in shock, squeezing your eyes shut and flinching at the ear-splitting sound that bounces off the walls of the apartment.
jungkook is rendered frozen, eyebrows furrowed and jaw slacked, staring down at his shirt largely stained by the chocolate milk you were walking around with after brunch.
“damn…”
his eyes are irritable when they communicate with yours.
“baby! really? did it have to be the white one?”
but seconds later, they become worried and calculating — wandering all over the tiled floor, and then your bare feet infront of his slides-clad ones, surrounded by shattered pieces of ceramic.
the collateral damage. an unforeseen tragedy.
suffice to say, jungkook woke up this morning blissfully unaware of the turbulent storm threatening to make a playground out of your mind. it’s craving to feed destruction, and here he is living with you under the same roof, an unfortunate casualty from your antics.
the hand-painted mug, wet from the condensation, slipped away from your hands when you accidentally collided with his tough build at the intersection of the living room and the kitchen. this… wasn’t part of the plan. the plan was a little spill and this is a landslide.
“that was expensive too.” you utter wistfully, chest deflating as you release an exasperated breath. “sorry. i’ll clean up everything. just stay there and i’ll- when did i last see the broom-”
his doe eyes grow two times its size when you start looking around the apartment in search of the broom, and perhaps something you can use to pat yourself and jungkook dry, causing your feet to unconsciously shift on the treacherous ground.
“ba-baby! don’t move! you’re going to hurt yourself. are you crazy?” he interrupts you with a hiss, voice stern as his hands curl around your arms to hold you steady. “it’s okay. this is nothing, i’m not mad… just stay still, understand?”
you nod slowly as he lets go, eyebrows knitting together to convey confusion when he starts pulling his shirt over his head, revealing miles of bare skin and planes of defined muscles on a perfect silhouette. perfect because it’s jungkook.
alright… to see him half-naked wasn’t one of your intentions, but you’re definitely not one to complain.
“tsk, i think i need to shower again.”
figuring that the internet has a solution to every problem one could think of, jungkook has decided to accept the horror that has happened to his shirt. what was it again? salt? vinegar? baking soda? powder? fuck it, he’ll search for it later.
he throws caution to the wind by using it to wipe his damp torso, brushing it over his tan skin glistening with a sheen of the liquid that you wittingly spilled. he winces at the uncomfortable stickiness that could be felt across his stomach, but he can’t help but to laugh when he sees how it further accentuated his abs.
and if only you were in a chipper mood today, you would be laughing along with him. would’ve taken over cleaning him up, apologized with a kiss on his waist. too bad you’re not.
eventually, he gives up on erasing on the feeling, proceeding to fold the shirt in halves.
“what are you doing?” you snap, putting on a guise of harsher irritation over your dreamy stares at your boyfriend’s glorious physique. “are we just supposed to stand here forever like idiots?”
“what is this? why are you so grumpy today?” he questions with a frown, patting your cheek with the soft cottony fabric because the splash managed to reach your face unbeknownst to you.
and then he bends down to place the folded shirt infront of your feet, looking up to you with his galaxy-filled eyes to say, “here- come on. stand here while i clean up.”
you stand isolated on the safe zone he created, childishly pouting with your arms crossed over chest as you wait for him to pick up your slippers in the bedroom.
the simple answer to jungkook’s question is you’re bored and in a bad mood. the more complex answer would be you came up with a one-man game you can only win if you successfully piss your boyfriend off, but you’re too scared to pull off anything that will legitimately make him upset with you.
because the last time you made him angry, it hasn’t been… that long ago. he’s been keeping a closer eye on you since then, and you’ve been trying to be good. keyword being trying. after all, you did lost his car key… at a beach three hours away from home. you searched the entire shore — retraced your steps, made your knees and palms bleed digging through the rocky sand, curled up by the waves to wallow in self-blame and the smell of salt-air defeat. you were nearly in tears as you listened to the call ring for what felt like an eternity, unsure if he already wrapped up the company meeting he mentioned to you the day before.
you still remember the desperate words you greeted him with instead of ‘hello’.
“babe, promise me you won’t be mad.”
“____, you didn’t even tell me you were coming here! care to explain that to me first? huh?”
your name, and not ‘baby’? heavens above have mercy; you’re fucked.
jungkook presses the heels of his palms over his eyes to alleviate the dull throbbing of his head, breathing heavily to compose himself, but he can’t disguise the frustration deeply embedded in his voice.
“you scared me!”
not yelling, but tone evidently very upset with you. somehow, that makes you feel worse.
“i had to make up an excuse infront of everyone and drive here fast. i was so worried of you being here all alone when it gets dark!”
“it’s your car so i thought i had to let you know right away. i’m sorry.” you chew at your bottom lip anxiously, eyes brimming with tears as you barely muster up the courage to observe how he’s handling this.
your heart pounds louder in your chest when he finally looks down at you, guilty and gloomy, sat on a wooden bench painted yellow. it drops to your stomach when you see the sullen expression painting his face a light shade of red.
“where did you lose it?”
you open your mouth, but no words come out. you can only manage to point at the shore with your disoriented eyes, and he traces the direction with his. the majestic orange sky where the sun descends below the horizon fails to be recognized by your foggy, distracted minds.
it’s silent for a few beats, then he huffs, breathing out a sarcastic chuckle before burying his face in hands.
“baby, please. please. are you sure you’re not pranking me right now?”
“no! do you think i’d joke like this? i really tried my best to find it!” you sniffle, roughly wiping away the lone tear that escapes your eye. you’re almost too humiliated to continue talking, volume falling a few notches above a whisper. “but the waves were getting stronger.”
he vehemently shakes his head, rendered speechless and stuttering, malfunctioning. he doesn’t think he has ever imagined this type of scenario before. “this is crazy. really… this is unbelievable… how did this even happen?”
he exhales loudly before removing his hands, revealing a calmer exterior. be that as it may, his skin is more flushed, all the way to his ears and down to his neck, where his veins have become noticeably prominent.
“i mean, what else can we do about it? i’ll request for a new one.”
“but are we just going to leave the car here?”
“did you leave anything in there?”
“i left my bag, but…” you pat the pockets of your skirt to check if your valuables didn’t meet the same fate as the car key. “i brought my phone and wallet with me.”
he nods. “then i’ll call a towing service.”
you pout.
“it’s such a bother.”
feeling exhausted after burning a concerning amount of energy in search of the missing item, you stand on wobbly feet to loop your arms around his waist.
maybe it’s to coax him into forgiving you. maybe it’s to make yourself feel better, nuzzle your face on his chest to drive away the anxiety weighing on your shoulders. but as it’s being lifted off, so is the barrier withholding your salty tears.
“i’m so careless. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i should’ve drove my car instead.”
“ye- no, that’s not…” he cuts himself off with a sigh.
he puts an arm around you, pushing his hair back and repeatedly carding his fingers through it out of habit.
“seriously, baby… you stress me out so much, do you know that? you’re always wandering around places you’re not familiar with… this is secluded. it’s dangerous. you could get hurt if you bump into the wrong people… really, i’m just relieved it’s not yourself that you lost this time!”
the recollection of old flashbacks playing in his mind like a movie reel elicits a throaty chuckle from him, low and rough, the vibrations of his chest rudely awakening the butterflies in your stomach.
“you couldn’t even send me a text. you didn’t turn on your location. i would’ve lost my fucking mind again… did you even thought of that? or is that what you wanted, huh? baby? you enjoy driving me crazy like this?”
and the confession tucked inside his scolding obliterates any coherent thoughts in your head, causing you to lose control of your whirlwind of emotions.
“this isn’t fair. you said you won’t be mad.” you wail out in response, tears fiercely leaking from your eyes akin to a rainstorm. “i didn’t know this would happen!”
he clicks his tongue, gingerly caressing your wet cheeks with his thumb, then with the rest of his fingers, and the paw of his jacket, because the streams just seem to have no plans of ceasing. his wide eyes worriedly scans your tear-stained face, heart squeezed painfully by the restrained sobs forcefully ripping themselves from your throat.
“shhh, shh. don’t cry- don’t cry. i’m not mad, i was just worried about you.”
“jungkook, you’re lying.” you whine. “don’t lie to me. i don’t like it.”
he slowly blinks at you, head hanging low as to compose his thoughts before he reconnects with your eyes. a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips before his tongue unconsciously sweeps over them, its tip catching the silver ring piercing through his skin to play with it.
a moment of silence, thick with restlessness and anticipation, harder to breathe with the unique smell of the salt-air entering and leaving your lungs.
you feel small under his stoic gaze. you want to sit back down and cry harder.
your boyfriend is mad. your boyfriend is infuriatingly hot even when he’s disappointed in you. you need to dig a hole in the sand and live there forever. after everything, these are the only thoughts left running in your head.
“okay, fine. you lost the key of our car in the ocean, ____. but what if someone already found it by chance?” he cocks his head to the side, briefly peering at the road behind you.
he knows that it’s no use. even if he does see the white jeep wheeling by, is he supposed to assume that he can outrun it by some heaven-granted miracle?
“what then? hm…? what else can we do? i guess it could be getting stolen right now and we don’t even know. you parked so far away.”
god, please, not your favorite car.
“it’s not only the car. i still have important documents left in the compartment too.” this only dawns on him now, judging by the look of distress written on his face. he suddenly slaps his thigh, and you flinch a little. “fuck! i should’ve cleaned sooner!”
“then you are mad.” you arrive at a conclusion, chin wobbling as you sniffle. “about a lot of things.”
you resist the urge to stomp your feet. you want to throw a tantrum so bad. tell him that he shouldn’t be keeping such things in the car in the first place, that he owns a safe for fuck’s sake, but you know you can’t get away with shifting the blame because you messed up horribly in comparison.
“i get it. i’m sorry… i take full responsibility this time.”
“shit, baby.” he deeply sighs.
it becomes quiet again. he just looks at your face with knitted eyebrows, not saying anything more, and you try your best to cut off your crying, not to act conscious, but your eyes still fall on the sand. they stay there for a few beats to avoid the intensity of his gaze.
he almost sounds pained when he finally speaks. “how can i stay mad at you when you’re crying?”
he tilts up your chin, and your glassy eyes, sparkling with a new wave of tears, look at him beseechingly.
the setting sun. an eternal witness to a brand new day of humans being humans. it kisses your skin with its golden light, bathing your figure to radiate an angelic glow that drives him to consider once more that you could just be an enchanting character across dreams and the year is still 2017.
you sniffle again, brushing off his hand. sometimes you despise that jungkook brings out messiest, most unstable side of you. you know that he practically signed up for this, and he will always love you the same, love you even more. but that doesn’t take away the fact that you’re so embarrassed.
“but i’m not crying just to make you feel bad, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“yah, that wasn’t what i meant?” he frowns, eyes softening at your reply. “of course. i know that.”
the cracks in your voice, he seals with a soft kiss on your lips, tender and swollen caused by the onslaught of your sharp teeth.
“anyway, i can take care of replacing it. i mean, it’s not like it can get stolen just like that, right…?”
he sounds rather nervous convincing the both of you.
“but i’m most worried about you. i can lose everything but you.” his tattooed arm pulls you closer, casting aside the tension by leaving not even an inch of space between your bodies. he tenderly rubs your back to console you, and another kiss is granted to your temple, his soothing voice slightly muffled as his lips stay glued to you. “did i make you cry? i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry… it’s okay. things like this can happen.”
“no, i’m sorry.” you aggressively shake your head and he carries on with wiping your cheeks, the back of his hand brushing off the tears that drip across your chin. he dries his hand on the hem of his jacket only to get it wet all over again.
“let’s just learn from this and move on. promise me that you’ll be more careful next time, okay? you can do that, right?”
jungkook does scold you every now and then, but although you stress him out, he would hate it if he’s not the first person you call when you’re in trouble. he would hate it if you act nonchalant and secretly cry when you’re hurt. but most of all, he can’t imagine a life in which you don’t make his world spin, much as he tends to get too dizzy at times.
your defiant hum makes his tense shoulders drop in disappointment.
“there should be a bus stop somewhere, i’ll just go home on my own. i don’t want to keep stressing you out.”
you will yourself to break free from his embrace, dragging yourself away to leave behind a trail of footprints in the sand, and he knows he’ll be running after you today, too.
“oh? you better stop right there!” he warns with a hand over his hip.
you become smaller and smaller in his eyes with every tick of the clock, much like how the sun is gradually getting swallowed by the ocean.
“i’ll get angry for real if you disappear from my sight. really, i’m not joking!”
angry? what a joke. you know that he’d cry blood searching for you if you get lost.
“oh? you’re really not going to stop?!”
jungkook’s voice fall on deaf ears, except that of the dog leashed to a tree that stands infront of a humble home. it seethingly barks at him from many meters away.
“fucking shit. i need alcohol.” he chuckles to himself, rubbing his tired eyes. “____, i swear, you’re getting too stubborn these days. what should i do with you?”
but you’re too far away to hear him, and so, he answers himself.
“eh, it is what it is.”
the wind blows with a quiet whistle, deadly as it fuels the roaring waves.
“AH! nuh-uh!” he exclaims, jaw dropping in alarm when he sees an urgent reason to chase after you, putting those leg days at the gym to good use.
you jump, a squeak leaving your mouth when out of nowhere, a solicitous palm smooths over your behind, sliding down to the back of your thighs to hold down your rippling skirt.
but you’re determined to be unyielding, eyes shooting daggers at jungkook. “leave me alone. i can do it myself.”
“baby, isn’t that a little rude? is that how you say ‘thank you’?”
“thank you. now let’s go our separate ways.”
and just like that, you’re walking away again.
“shit.” he curses quietly through gritted teeth, pulling at his hair. “babe, please come back… i’m sorry! i didn’t mean that!”
“jungkook! how many times do i need to tell you to turn off faucet properly?!”
you’re hot on jungkook’s tail as he makes his way to the laundry room beside the kitchen, carrying a laundry basket over his hip. he’s still shirtless, only clad in a different pair of shorts after a quick shower.
“the bathroom sink was close to overflowing! again!”
“i know what you’re doing.”
“what? what am i doing?”
the basket touches the ground, standing beside the dryer, and then he turns to face you, eyebrows shooting up. “picking a fight with me won’t work today.”
“why?” your tone borders on a whine.
“what do you mean ‘why’?” he laughs in jest. “why? why do you want to fight with me so bad?”
“i don’t know.” you exhale loudly, rolling your eyes and shrugging. “just because!”
“well, that’s not very convincing, is it?” he teases you with a grin, proceeding to open the dryer to dump the fresh laundry in the basket. the clothes you wore in the past week once again soaked up the sweet, floral scent the people around you distinctly recognizes to be your own and jungkook’s.
“i know, but i’m done playing now. you’re not hearing me.” you close your eyes in frustration, recounting the other times you had to say these exact words. “you’re going to flood our house.”
“okay, okay. i won’t forget to double-check it from now on. i promise.”
“sure, that’s what you also said last time.” you indignantly scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m not turning it off for you anymore. if we get flooded, i’m leaving you. i’m moving out.”
your threat puts a halt to his movements for a split second before he’s adorably replying in a sing-song voice. “then i’m going with you.”
“no, you’re not.”
and it doesn’t come as a shock to you that jungkook doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
“huh! good luck trying to stop me.” he slams the door of the dryer shut, standing up straight. “it’s not easy getting rid of me. you know that.”
he walks to the middle of the room to get a good view of you at the entrance. with the other resting on his hip, he lies his palm flat over the counter, outstretched arm cascading with varied colors of ink in sharp lines and swirling curves.
fuck, he has to know what he’s doing — flexing his muscles like that, not playing fair.
“aigoo, look at you glaring at me. you want to fight?”
and you’d feel intimidated by his challenging stare, the quirk of his eyebrow, his teeth sinking on his bottom lip… only if he didn’t blink to rake a stare over your body, lingering on your smooth legs that couldn’t be covered by your mere underwear. only if they didn’t flicker back to your face, and only if he didn’t smirk like a lovesick fool.
“so cute.” he chuckles. “you’re totally my type.”
“shut up.” you roll your eyes at the random compliment. “i know, i already get that a lot.”
his smile then fades, not so thrilled with the reminder that it’s so easy to fall in love with you, and therefore anyone would die to take his place. he knows that they hover around you like moths to a flame when he’s not there. well, he really can’t blame them, can he? you’re so fucking attractive.
“what does that mean…? who else is saying it, huh? tell me. i think i have a few guesses.”
“does it matter?” you stare at him blankly, which then turns into a piercing glare. “jungkook! i was just talking about you not paying enough attention. look at you proving me right!”
the stomp of your feet on the floor tells him that you’ve reached a level of frustration near to inducing a flood of tears.
oh, he truly got called out, huh?
“i’m sorry- i’m sorry. i admit that. i’m sorry, my love. i was just joking around. i’m listening well now.” he winces guiltily, beckoning you to be where he is. “come here then.”
“i don’t want to.” you stay rooted in your spot. “who do you think you are?”
“m-me…? i’m your boyfriend. boyfriend!” he points at himself, index finger repeatedly poking his bare chest to emphasize his point. his arm then drops to his side. his doe eyes widen as he breathes out a sigh of disbelief. “oh, i’m really getting upset now?”
you bite back a smile. the sweet taste of victory.
you can’t be the only one, can you?
“aish, i see you’re having your way again.” he chuckles, taking it upon himself to cross the distance between you. his hands find purchase on the curves of your waist, and every nerve in your body turns into a live wire. “let’s just go out today. do you want to practice boxing at the gym with me?”
didn’t he just watch you do arms day this morning? does he think you have the same stamina as him? you make a face of disapproval and shake your head.
“shall we go to a rage room again then? break more stuff?” he playfully sticks his tongue out, and you glare once more.
for the record, you loved that mug.
“boring.”
“and fighting with me is fun?”
you purse your lips into a thin line. “well, it’s not boring.”
“of course.” he laughs, softly squeezing your waist, pads of his thumbs mindlessly tracing shapes over the fabric of your top.
all of a sudden, he’s tugging you closer to envelope you in his embrace, voice slightly muffled as he sweetly talks. “are you mad at me for real? i’m sorry. sorry, sorry, sorry. sorry. i’ll really be more mindful of the things you remind me about, i swear… i don’t like fighting. it breaks my heart when you cry.”
what is this five foot ten man with bulging biceps, tattoo sleeve, and piercings doing here in the crook of your neck — affectionately nuzzling his face on your skin and telling you in a baby voice that he doesn’t like fighting?
you don’t know, but you feel good.
and his bare body is so comfortingly soft and warm.
he draws back for a kiss but his nose and lips only graze your cheek when you turn away, and you don’t see the sadness that flashes across his face.
“so what i’m hearing is… you don’t like fighting with me because i’m too sensitive? is that the truth?”
“no!” he perks up to interject without hesitation, shaking his head. “but i don’t think that’s a bad thing anyway… being sensitive.”
but you admit being a crybaby. you cry when you’re angry.
that’s when jungkook distinguishes the glint of mischief swimming in your irises. he feels dizzy after having his heart drop to his stomach.
“no. no, no.”
his mirthful grin returns, revealing his perfect set of teeth.
“ahh, i’m stressed!” he closes his eyes, throwing his head back, chest puffing up when he breathes in then out. “i knew it. no, i’m not falling for this trap!”
then he flees the room carrying the laundry basket, leaving you doubled over and covering your mouth to silence your giggles of amusement.
“i’m hanging the laundry now!”
“how dare you walk away from me?!”
“you can’t follow me!”
“i’m not.” you scoff, purposely bumping your hips against his. “i’ll vacuum the living room.”
“where are you going? gym?” you genuinely begin to sulk, watching your boyfriend slide into a baggy pair of bleached denim pants. “are you leaving me here?”
he avoids your inquiring eyes, ignoring you as he pulls up his zipper and does the button. you pout when he walks further away to pull out a black shirt from the clothing rack.
“is that it? are you tired of me already?”
he tosses its hanger in the basket where you discard the empty ones before wearing the final piece of clothing, covering himself fully for the first time today.
you sigh, feeling dejected. “you don’t love me anymore?”
and jungkook needs to physically restrain himself so he won’t grab your face and say ‘i love you’ over and over again until he runs out of breath.
you leave the closet to follow him to the bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the mattress to put on his socks.
you stand by him, patience quickly running thin. “hello?”
he brushes away the non-existent dirt on the left sock before switching his legs to put on the right one.
“did i turn invisible?”
your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. this isn’t how fighting works. you need a reaction at the very least.
you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, starting to get annoyed, already planning your exit if he continues this act. “you’re hurting my feelings. you’re not even going to look at me?”
he mumbles, and you almost fail to piece his phrase together. “can’t, you’re too pretty.”
his big brown eyes faintly glimmer with hope when he looks up at you, puckering his rose-tinted lips and making kissing sounds.
your sweet and clingy boyfriend, he’s making this too difficult.
a tsunami of affection washes over you, and it becomes impossible for you not to crack at his cheekiness then. “jungkook, you’re impossible!”
atleast he tried to shoot his shot.
“tsk, see? i thought so!” he grumbles, snapping the elastic band on his ankle. “just want one kiss.”
he disappears into the closet again.
he returns not a minute later, unceremoniously placing a white bucket hat on your head before tugging it down to obstruct your vision.
“hey!”
you hastily take it off, scowling at your laughing boyfriend who turns out to be already wearing a black bucket hat of his own.
“you’re bored, aren’t you? let’s go out, have some sun.”
“no.”
you reply exactly as your boyfriend predicted you would.
jungkook captures your wrist to slip his credit card on your palm, folding your fingers over it, but they aren’t enough to hide the black rectangular thing you can use to buy the world with if you wanted to. your amusement spills out as giggles, brighter as he pushes your hand to your chest so you have no other choice but to accept it.
he scrunches his nose, face only inches away from yours as he persuades you with his natural charm. “what if we go shopping, hmm?”
“thanks babe, but i can’t think of anything i want right now.” you sniffle with teary eyes, flipping the card and holding it between your longest fingers as muscle memory takes control.
“then just keep it incase you see something you want.”
he kneels on the floor out of the blue, and you eye him curiously, your fingers automatically tangling with his silky locks before making a loose fist.
“here, put some pants on. hurry-” he presents your pair of faded gray cargo pants.
you tug at his hair lightly, which prompts him to lift his head. you scrunch your nose cutely, giggling. “i’m spoiled.”
“ey, so what if you are?” he brushes off your observation with his satoori accent, blithe tone listing down reasons. “i love you. i worked hard so i can do these things for you. we moved in together so we can take care of each other.”
and you want to cry. you truly do. your face began to feel warm after he said that he loves you, but the tears never make it past your lash line when his big palm lands a loud smack on your ass, skin-to skin.
“but i do think that you are a brat. does that count for something?”
it catches you by surprise, and a scandalized gasp escapes your mouth as you feel the sting spreading across your skin.
“shut up! give that to me.” you roll your eyes, stealing the pants from his grasp.
“see, that’s what i’m talking about.” he chuckles lightheartedly. “get dressed then.”
his fingers dig in the soft flesh of your thighs when he pulls you closer to kiss the tiny little ribbon on your underwear, heart-shaped lips pressed to you so firmly you can trace their outline bleeding through the thin fabric and onto your skin. “mmm-mwah!”
and then you feel them there next, where it still hurts, a softer kiss in comparison to soothe the sting he left behind.
your heart is beating so loud you can feel it in your throat, feeble knees nearly giving away to crash and break.
who does that so casually? who the hell does that?
oh, right… jungkook. of course.
you raise the white flag today.
perhaps he will flood the apartment tomorrow, and you can stay angry longer then.
“what’s taking him so long?” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself, lost eyes scanning the park in hopes of getting a glimpse of your boyfriend and his classic jungkook outfit, but he’s still nowhere to be seen.
your sour mood makes a reappearance.
to your credit, taking you out and then asking you to wait here without telling you where he’s going is rude, and you’re lonely and jealous of the couples around you having a picnic. not to mention that the clouds have uncovered the sun and you’re burning.
this scene also leads your brain to wander to those cliche flashbacks in a film or a show where a parent lies to their child that they’ll come back, and then they doesn’t. it’s always, always at some sort of park.
oh, for fuck’s sake, why are you wasting your time giving this a lot of thought?
too bored and antsy to sit still, you finally decide to text jungkook.
to: my baby love
i'm gonna look for food. do you want anything?
orrr is that what you're away buying 😥
WHERE ARE YOU
why didn't you just take me with youuuu
?
please me lonely :(
[sent 1 photo]
a black cat !! is sleeping on my shoes!! 😭
i miss you :(
are you almost done
i hate u
whatever i'm going. call if you still remember that you're someone's bf i guess.
jungkook crosses the street like an excited puppy, long pretty hair bouncing as he practically skips his way to the area where he left you to wait.
only to be greeted by a complete stranger.
his radiant beam fades into a hue of confusion.
the bench is now occupied by a woman chugging an energy drink after running laps around the park.
they lock eyes for a split second. he averts his befuddled stare to pretend that nothing happened, walking past her with a bouquet of sunflowers until he settles down two benches away.
he wears his bucket hat again only for him to throw it aside with a sigh, messing with his hair to release his frustration. of course you left. he can only snort to himself while he reads the last message you sent. you’re so cute. he knows you’ve never been keen on having to wait, but he didn’t expect himself to take so long either.
not wanting you to be upset with him another second longer, he instantly decides to call you.
his forehead creases when his phone vibrates, informing him that he typed an incorrect password. he tries again, slow and deliberate, only for the same thing to happen, and he begins to feel nervous.
what the fuck?
okay, calm down, JK. one more time.
he freezes as the same words flash on the screen. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he feels the irritation bubbling up inside of him.
“why is it like this…? what’s your problem? what am i touching wrong?”
you return to the park more carefree than before. since jungkook is god knows where, you decided to have a picnic on your own. you had to buy a new picnic blanket, though. you can’t get the one in the car because he has the key. but just to be petty, you hope that he figured it out from the text notifications he got when you used his card.
oh, there he is looking angrily at his phone.
you halt on your tracks, instantly pulling the brakes on your feet when you recognize your boyfriend from your peripheral vision. you slowly chew the remaining tteokbokki in your mouth.
he’s holding his phone… and he hasn’t called you yet?
“wow, did you seriously forgot about me?”
upon hearing your familiar voice, jungkook’s features soften, not having to squint at the sunlight either because you’ve kindly blocked it with your back.
“where did you even go? i didn’t see you!”
the password-protected device that’s been giving him a headache for the past ten minutes is abandoned in the depths of his pocket.
“baby,” he utters airily as he stands on his feet, reaching out to hold your forearm. “i’m sorry. i took so long, didn’t i…? i went to buy you flowers but they didn’t have tulips anywhere. anywhere. every shop said someone bought all of them!”
he scratches his head with a sheepish grin, revealing the bouquet he’s been concealing behind him.
“i got you sunflowers instead… they-” he points at them, eyes flickering on the bundle of yellow flowers he’s offering as a gift. “they’re not bad. i think they’re pretty too. you like them too, right?”
sunflowers are pretty. after all, it used to be your favorite in middle school, mostly because it’s the first flower you received from an admirer… it was for your birthday and you felt like you died when it withered, heavily on-brand for a young heart drawn to romance. excluding that, everything has changed. it’s a typical saturday and beads of sweat have formed on your lover’s forehead after running around under the sun. you think you can keep them alive longer this time around.
“i like you the most.”
and then he receives his gift in return, that particularly sweet smile of yours he only sees when you’re so giddy.
his heart flutters wildly at your following actions.
“kiss.” you adorably demand, copying his pout earlier when he was asking for a kiss.
but unlike you who left his wish ungranted, he crosses the distance to plant a kiss on your lips. he pulls away a mere three inches, muttering to confront you. “but i thought you hated me?”
“who said that? that wasn’t me.” you feign ignorance, eyes so wide as to mimic being confused. you carefully take the flowers into your embrace, subtly exchanging it with the paper bowl you’re holding. “thank you, baby… here, do you want tteokbokki?”
he goes for the fish cake first, poking it with the stick and popping it in his mouth. you find yourself too absorbed in admiring the sunflowers one by one to sense your boyfriend staring at you, thinking to himself, you’re always worth the effort and this overpriced tteokbokki is pretty damn good.
“i turned on my location like i promised i would. did you see?” you mention without looking at him, acting laidback, still too shy when anything related to the incident is brought up.
he awkwardly smiles. no, he didn’t, unfortunately. he’s still fucking locked out of his phone.
you whimper when he pinches your cheek. “good job, baby.”
jungkook removes his head on your stomach to lie down beside you on the red picnic blanket. his hair touches his face and he tucks them behind his ears for the millionth time today.
“will you type my password for me?”
you take his phone without question, putting yours over your chest for the meantime. you successfully unlock it within a second, experienced fingers nimble after years of typing on the daily.
“here.” you hold it out for him without looking, picking up your own phone to continue scrolling through trending topics. however, seconds pass and the heavy weight on your hand has yet to be eased, so you wiggle it to catch his attention. “hey, it’s done.”
he gasps, gaping at you in bewilderment. “how did you do that?”
“you changed it again last night, remember? because i told you our anniversary isn’t a good idea.”
shit, right. he added a new one to the list of passwords that he uses for everything. he totally forgot about that. you’ve taken over every working brain cell that he has in his body.
“baby, this is your fault!” he groans, finally snatching away his phone. “ah- i wanted to throw it away. i didn’t know what was wrong with it. i was seriously so close to crying!”
that bad? was he about to get all his data wiped out? your poor baby. you laugh out loud at his reaction, belly aching as you roll over to wrap your arm around his waist and bury your face on his side.
“anyone can guess it if they try hard enough.”
“but that was the trick, you know? they’d think it’s too easy. they wouldn’t even consider it!”
“that doesn’t mean they won’t try it!”
“ah, i don’t care. i’m changing it back.” he stubbornly pouts, falling back on the blanket.
you want to cuddle. he feels a tug on the sleeve of his shirt and he immediately understands. he allows you to use his tattooed arm as a pillow. it envelopes you entirely when he reaches for his phone to type with both hands, and you automatically snuggle with him closer by resting your head on his chest.
“fine. do what you want, you dummy. you better not leave your phone lying around.” you mutter, heavy eyelids fluttering shut as the wind blows to softly caress your face. “and don’t take more pictures of me sleeping.”
“you’re sleeping? i thought we’re going to the mall.”
“we are. i’m letting you rest before you carry shopping bags.”
“ah- wow. thanks, baby.”
you don’t how much time passes, a minute or ten or more, but falling into a deep sleep proves to be impossible with the cacophony of sounds you’re surrounded with. you’re resting somewhere away from the crowd, but there’s still the hiphop music from a bluetooth speaker, honking of vehicles… and the main culprit, jeon jungkook scrolling through tiktok on your phone and bookmarking videos for you to watch later on. you can hear his giggles louder than his heartbeat, feel them make his body vibrate throughout.
so, you give up. you open your blurry eyes with a tired sigh, blinking to readjust to the brightness. he feels your movements, your nose brushing against his neck, and he squeezes you to his side, dutifully stroking your head to remind you that you’re safe despite being in a public place because you’re with him. you kiss his cheek to show your appreciation.
you end up harmonizing with his giggles when you do decide to join him, nearly tearing up at the sight of a cat riding a motorcycle toy on the screen. a little while later, your fascination is then stolen by fiddling with his tattooed hand — tracing the veins, the lines, the tattoos; pressing the faded heart like it’s a button connected to the beating one in his ribcage; grazing the rough areas of his palm calloused by lifting heavy weights.
and as you do so, you mull over the house by the sea you’re saving up for. how much longer will it take? should you check out more locations? do you tell jungkook? that it’s your back-up plan, a place where no one knows your name, just like how this city once was. it’s where you would run to, where you would build a new life if the time comes that this one falls apart, too. if not, if not, if not, would it be so bad to wake up beside you with an ocean view when he’s sixty?
fuck, you don’t know anymore. it shouldn’t be this hard— not anticipating the worst, but still being prepared for it. you despise being an adult.
you do it absentmindedly, taking off one of your silver rings and slipping it into each of his fingers to see where it would fit best… he knows you’re only entertaining yourself, but feeling it in his ring finger still puts a lump in his throat.
“are you proposing to me?”
“this is your right hand, silly.” you tease your stunned boyfriend, sticking your tongue out. “if you want me, come and get me.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 10 months
Note
You know how in the movie, Miles mom gets angry when he says, ‘whatever’ can you do that with latina!wife for Miguel?
𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader
Summary: Miguel hasn't had a proper night's rest in days, and quite frankly you missed him. Too bad he's too swamped with work to notice.
Warnings: None! Just a silly lil fic.
You know those days where you’re just teetering on the edge? It could be for absolutely no reason at all, or maybe a collection of things, all you knew was that it just makes every action you take frustrating.
Well, that was you today.
Granted it wasn’t for no reason. Yesterday, Miguel had promised to come back home for dinner and sleep in his own bed, because for the last few days he had been swamped with work and mission reports. You understood the work he did was important, truly, but you missed him. That, and he was a chronic overworker who would only stop when he collapsed from exhaustion, and you were not going to let it get to that point.
It was getting tiring having to beg him to come back to rest, even for a moment. Spider powers or not, everyone needs a break.
“Uh oh…” you hear Lyla say as you march into the monitoring room, but you continue to press onward.
“Miguel!” you call up to him, but he doesn’t even bother turning around to face you, rummaging through papers and swiping through screens.
“Querida, is there something you need?” he asks nonchalantly like nothing was wrong.
“Yes! There is, actually. What happened to coming home yesterday, hm~?” you say, irritation rising in your voice.
“Oh…is it already the next day?” he asks, still not looking toward you. “I’m sorry, vida mía. I guess I got carried away, I’ll try to be back later alright?” he says, trying to placate you.
“You can’t keep going on like this Miguel, it’s not healthy. One evening of a break won’t hurt. Hell, I’ll even help you out with paperwork, and Lyla can too. So come home tonight, alright? For me, please?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says without thinking, only half listening to you.
“Excuse me?” you say, your voice stone cold and immediately Miguel stiffens, slowly turning toward you with a sheepish look on his face.
“Vida mía,” he says, his expression apologetic as his platform begins to lower to the floor. You don’t have the patience to wait for it though, choosing to swing up with your webs and meet him at his level.
“Miguel O'Hara, who do you think you’re talking to?" you say lowly. "I’m not one of your subordinates, I am your wife,” Your hands are planted on your hips as you look up at him annoyedly.
“I know, I know,” he says hurriedly, “I’m sorry. I said it without thinking.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough. We’re going home, now,” you say, grabbing his hand and leaving no room for argument. “Lyla, have Jess take over for the rest of today, alright?”
“Aye, aye, captain!” she says, snickering at the interaction between the two of you.
“Querida, there’s still so much work I have to do,” he says, resisting your pull but you continue to drag you along.
“Should have thought of that before you said ‘whatever’ to me, Miguel,” you say, but sigh. “I’m only trying to look out for you, is that so bad?”
He pauses, studying your worried expression that was because of him. It caused a wave of guilt to wash over him after he disregarded your care for work instead.
“I know…alright, let’s go home sweetheart,” he says, finally relenting as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Immediately you light up, grasping his hand tighter.
“I’ll make your favourite today, and we can take a bath later if you’d like?” you suggest.
“I would love that, tesoro.”
A/N: Thank you for reading!
Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @phobia0325, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana--belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @phobia0325, @honeii-puff, @ieatmunson
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angelofcigs · 2 months
Note
we’ve seen cheating reader but rafe who has a gf but keeps seeing u behind her back!! he will show up most nights and u will def tease him about it cs u r just better than his lil gf like that!!
bro i swear i do not support cheating just somethin ab rafe makes me throw all morals out the window… also this is a little more angst than I expected to write and goes a little bit off request but hopefully you still 🤍 it. it ends happily don’t worry!!
warnings: cheating, little bit of angst, some smut at the end!!
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“Are you doin' this shit on purpose?”, he groaned.
“What?”, you smirked, sipping on your strawberry mojito. You easily threw him into a trance, leaning far enough over the bar so that your dress dipped far enough to show down your neckline.
You let him stare for a bit, then grabbed the attention of Topper to worsen the jealousy of Rafe.
“Hey, Top? Could you go get me another drink, please?”, you pouted at him, playing with your gold sun necklace between your boobs to mess with the two of them even more.
He stuttered, but obeyed, of course. Who wouldn’t do anything you asked for when you asked like that?
You smiled as Topper walked away, turning your attention back to Rafe.
“So how’s the girlfriend doing? Heard she got a new job at the country club.”
He listened, but chose not to answer - he didn’t want to think about her when he was with you.
You laughed, “I’ve gotta say, Rafe, I’m pretty surprised you let a girlfriend of yours work such a pogue job.”
He groaned, closing his eyes just to stop staring at you. “Can we not talk about her?”
“When I said I wanted to be a cart girl on the green you said that was ‘too pogue’ of a job for me - s’all I’m saying”, you raised your hands in defense.
He finished his mai tai, staring at the ice cube left in the glass. “Yeah 'cause you’re different.”
You tilted your head, urging him to continue.
“You’re brattier than her.”
“‘Cause she gives it up easier than I do,” you scowled.
He clenched his jaw and leaned forward. “S’that why every guy in this party has fucked you before, huh?”
You dug your lipgloss and mirror out of your purse, flipped the mirror open, and began to apply the gloss to your lips. “That’s not true, Rafe.”
“Really?”, he scoffed at you.
“Really.”
“Why has half of the conversation here been about the crazy shit you’ve don’t with them, then?”
You rolled your eyes, shutting the mirror and tossing the items back in your purse, “I don’t fuckin’ know, Rafe. Maybe they’re manifesting or some shit. Besides, why do you even care? I thought you had a girlfriend.”
“I care because we’ve been friends since we were like… two. I’m just… looking out for you, you know?”, he huffed, clearly frustrated. “It’s not a good look to be seen as the girl who’s fucked every guy on the island.”
“Christ, Rafe - who cares what anybody on this island thinks anyways. Anybody who truly knows me knows that isn’t true. Why should I care about the opinions of people I don’t give a shit about?!”, you ranted, voice raising with anger.
“Would you keep it down?”
“Seriously though?! All people talk about here is their status. Who gives a fuck? We’re all gonna end up in the same place, you know - dead.”
As if on cue, Topper arrived with your drink, which made your eyes go wide with excitement.
This whole conversation needs alcohol, was all you could think. Before you could grab your drink, Rafe quickly beat you to it.
“You don’t need any more alcohol,” he pushed the drink back to the bartender.
“Okay, Dad”, you scoffed, reached to Topper’s hand, grabbed his beer, and downed it.
“Hey I was drinking that!”, he scowled.
Rafe tried to wrestle the bottle out of your hands, you squealing as he did so. He settled, knowing you wouldn’t give the bottle up, now just cornering you into the bar counter to stop you from bolting.
Once you finished chugging the beer, you wiped your mouth off and stared at him. He was pissed - and you loved it.
“Can I take you home?”, he asked as calmly as he could, though he was clearly mad.
You pressed your hand to his chest, pushing it away. “Woah there Mr. Cameron. Don’t you have a girlfriend?”
“You know that’s not what I meant-”
“Sophie! Sophie! Rafe is-”, you drunkenly shouted to his girlfriend, wanting the secret to be out. But Rafe’s hand was already over your mouth as he pulled you away from the scene.
Once he had you outside on the gravel of the parking lot, you erupted into giggles.
“Get in the truck”, he asserted.
You obeyed, but not without complaint. “Would you relax, Rafe? I was kidding, I’m not actually gonna tell her.”
He slammed the passenger door on you and walked around to his side of the car. Starting the car, he silently drove as you hummed to the old “The Sundays” song on the radio.
He let you sing for a bit as you kept the window rolled down to feel the breeze. He hated the loud sound of the window being open, but let you leave it open anyways.
He let the song finish before posing the question he’d been waiting to ask you the whole drive: “Why’d you do that?”
You turned to look at him, and went quiet.
The truth is, you didn’t know why you did that. You were drunk, sure, but not so drunk that you’d accidentally slip the secret. You did it on purpose.
“Cause I hate that you lie to her.”
He sighed, switching the radio off. “I gave you a chance, you know,” he reminded.
Before he had ever done anything with Sophie, it was always you. He knew it was always you from the moment he met you. You just weren’t “ready for a relationship”, you always told him. And he believed you - so he settled with whatever you wanted to do.
Even if it meant just being friends with benefits.
“She’s just a placeholder for you, and you know that. So I don’t know why you’re freaking out about it”, he uttered.
“Don’t say that Rafe”, you shook your head.
“It’s the truth.”
The two of you were silent for a moment, Rafe only glancing at you worriedly every so often when you were looking out the window.
“Do you want me to break up with her?”, he proposed.
“Stop, Rafe, just stop.”
He huffed, “I just don’t know what the fuck you want me to do.”
He pulled over to a safe spot and parked the car so he could have his full attention on you.
“I don’t know what you want me to do”, he repeated. “Do you want me to break up with her?”
“No Rafe, I don’t-”
“Cause… Cause I’ve got my hands tied,” he interrupted. “I asked you if you wanted to be with me, and you said you weren’t ready, so I waited for you. Then when I was waiting for you, you got with like… three of the guys in my friend group.”
You clenched your jaw, wanting to talk back but knowing it wouldn’t help the situation.
“So then I assume you don’t want a relationship, but you’re okay with hooking up, right? Figured this whole friends-with-benefits thing was gonna work. I get a girlfriend while you’re still hooking up with all of these other guys. Now, you still don’t want to be in a relationship, but you don’t want me to be in a relationship either so that you can still hook up with me with zero commitment and all these other guys with zero commitment.”
He paused for a second.
“I tried waiting for you sweetheart, I really tried but I don’t know how much longer I can wait. It’s not fair to me, it’s not.”
“Rafe…”
“At this point, I’d rather you just reject me. It’d be easier than this,” he groaned, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Just give me an answer, will you?”
You smirked at him, and practically threw yourself on him, pressing your lips to his desperately.
The two of you made out for a solid thirty seconds, you on Rafe’s lap, before he pulled away.
“So does this mean it’s still just friends with benefits?”, he asked seriously, expression a little sad.
You laughed, kissing along his neck. “No, you idiot. This means real.”
He smirked down at you, “define real.”
You unbuttoned his shirt slowly, “real relationship, real dates, real love, real sex…”
“If what we’ve been doing is fake sex, I might just die when we have real sex”, he joked, holding onto your hips and slipping your dress strap off your shoulder, leaving a kiss on your shoulder.
“You’ll find out what real sex is soon… first you need to call your ex,” you demanded.
“Who cares about her?”, he groaned, “I already told you she was just a placeholder for you.”
“Do you want to find out what real sex and a real relationship with me is like?”
“Yes”, he immediately answered.
You grabbed his phone, typed in the password, and searched for her number.
“I’m in your favorites in your contacts list and she isn’t? Rafe…,” you whined, “that’s depressing…”
“Shut up.”
“I will,” you said once the phone began to ring, backing up just enough so you could lean over the console.
As she answered with a worried, “Is everything okay, Rafey???”, you unzipped his dress pants, and pulled out his cock, already hard, and kitten licked the tip.
He muted the phone momentarily, “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned as you hummed around him.
As he grabbed at your thighs, pushing your long dress up to your waist line and tracing the outline of your panties, he began, “Listen, Soph…”
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Thanks for reading, and thank you anon for sending in a request. If any anons want to claim an emoji feel free to! Love you all so much - feel free to leave comments, they make me so happy!!
taglist (message or comment to be added!): @dasguccier @pradabambie
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syrupgirl · 1 year
Note
Sorry if you have done this before but maybe you could do a neteyam x reader and he is introducing you to his family ?
Love ur work btw
a/n: I did change this a lil so I hope it’s still ok, so reader knows the Sully’s vaguely and has only been known as a friend to Neteyam but now he is introducing reader as his potential mate. Also thank you for your compliments :p <3
(sum more notes at the end <3)
reader uses she/her prns and her body stays un-described
Mate material -Neteyam
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“Is this really necessary, Neteyam,” You whined, sulking behind him. “They already know who I am, I feel like I’m meeting them again.”
He smiled and continued to wade his way toward the shore.
“Well, you are in a way. They will be seeing you in a different light now.” This man. He has some cheek.
Water whipped around your ankles as you ran after him. Taking Neteyam’s hand in yours, you spun him around and tugged on his arm repeatedly.
“Do we have to tell them? Why can’t they…Just figure it out on their own?.” You felt like child now, complaining over something so simple, but that’s how being with Neteyam made you feel; all fuzzy and floaty on the inside. Things were simple and easy when you were with him.
He finally stopped waking and took his arm out of your hand, replacing it with his hand.
“I understand if you are nervous, they can be,” he paused as if to take a moment to find the words. “intimidating when they want to be.” It came out as a laugh.
You snorted, “Your mother in particular.”
“She loves you!”
“She likes me as your friend, she might not as a mate!”
Neteyam sighed and pulled you closer; he could tell this was really bothering you.
“It’s not like there has been some, huge, drastic change. We’re still us, just…A more together version of us.”
A reluctant smile bloomed on your lips. “You sound stupid.”
“Ah.” You giggled as he pushed you away in mock offence.
“I take back what I said, you should be terrified.”
“Neteyam!”
-
Eclipse had come and the Sully family were gathered in their Marui, happily feasting on their dinner.
All that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and chewing of food, until Lo’ak took it upon himself to break that silence.
“So, big bro, what happened with yn today?”
Suddenly, all eyes were on the eldest Sully. A small smirk jumped onto Kiri’s lips and she quickly went to cover it with her hand and Tuk looked genuinely worried for your health. Lo’ak had a shit eating grin on his face; he knew what he was doing.
Neteyam gulped, disguising it was swallowing a mouthful of his dinner. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I saw you two getting awfully close in the water.” Neytiri looked as if she had finally checked into the conversation, putting down her meal and looking to her sons.
“I just thought maybe, she might have been hurt?”
Like a hunter watches their prey, his family set their gaze on him, silently hungering for more information.
In an effort to appear cool headed, Neteyam shrugged. “She was fine, not hurt.” He looked to his brother and shot him a look, “Why do you ask?”
“Oh no, just curious.” It looked like Lo’ak would leave it now and Neteyam internally sighed in relief.
“How is yn, Neteyam? Haven’t seen her in a while.” Jake asked. Oh well, the questioning wasn’t over.
-
“I think they are onto us.”
You let those words sit in the air they were spoken into.
Neteyam’s arm tightened around you and you turned more into his chest. The pool of water around you wrinkled gently with your movements.
The two of you had stashed yourselves away in a lone terrace, not unlike the ones that bordered the lagoon outside the village, but this one was a secret place for you both. Where you could be with each other without worrying about prying eyes or annoying brothers.
Finally, you answered him, “What makes you say that?”
Neteyam sat up more, causing you to be partially shoved off of him.
“Lo’ak started asking me these annoying questions while we were eating dinner last night!” He looked like he was a getting really upset; brows furrowed, arms waving wildly, voice raising.
You frowned and caught one of his flailing hands. “What kind of questions?”
“Just stupid ones! Like, why we are spending so much time together and why we were getting so close to each other yesterday in the wate-”
“Be calm, Neteyam. Slow down.” You brought his hand to your chest. “Breath, deep breaths.”
Neteyam stopped his ranting and sighed out a long breath. As best as he could, he copied your breathing.
“Now, explain to me why this bothers you so much?”
He is still for a moment, looking a little embarrassed. “He’s putting his nose where it doesn’t belong, it is just not his business.”
You snort at that, “Are we not about to announce our relationship to your family? Honestly, it’s not a surprise that one of them found out before.”
Neteyam sighed again. He turned to face you and gently took your face into his hands, looking between your eyes.
“I want it to be on our terms, not because of Lo’ak’s prying.”
“I understand that,” you hummed. Your hand covered one of Neteyam’s on your face and you leaned into it. “Sounds like we need to act on our plans a little faster.”
A kiss was planted on your forehead and you smiled giddily.
“I don’t want to push you, I know you are a bit nervous.” He mumbled into your hairline.
Your free hand found his face and brought him back to where you could look him in the eyes. Your thumb glided back and forth along his cheekbone and his eyes drifted closed.
“I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
-
It really felt like you could not handle it.
The sun was high in the sky, beating down onto your skin. On a day like this, you would usually be bobbing up and down in the waves, happily soaking up the rays, but on this occasion all it was doing to you was elevating your already rapidly growing panic.
You and Neteyam sat on the woven walkways not to far from his marui. Today was the day where you would finally announce your relationship to his family. A monumental occasion really; the eldest son of Toruk Makto and former leader of the Omatikaya, had found himself a partner, a mate, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
You had met the Sully family many times before, you regularly spent time with Lo’ak and Kiri, even spending time with little Tuk. But now, you were seeing them on such different circumstances, they might as well have been strangers.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Neteyam had offered, an effort to quell your growing nerves, unfortunately this just spurred into motion all the thoughts of things that could happen; ranging from awkward silences to Jake and Neytiri chasing you out of their marui for trying to take their firstborn away from them. Extremely unlikely and just downright stupid, but you were just grasping at straws for anything that could go wrong.
“Why can’t- why can’t you just tell them while I am far, far away?” Neteyam laughed heartily at that but you were deadly serious.
“Oh yes, I can see it now,” Neteyam gasped between giggles, “hey mom, hey dad, you know yn? yeah I want her to be my mate. Where is she? Anywhere you aren’t.” His laughed picked up at his own joke and you groaned, hitting his chest with your balled fist.
“I love your family, Neteyam. I really, really want this to go well!”
“And it will! We’ve had this same conversation over and over, i don’t know how else I can reassure you.” He reached his arm around your waist and dragged you closer to him. “Would you like me to tell you in english? I know a little.”
Neteyam said something you didn’t understand. The language sounded so silly you couldn’t help but cover your mouth to hide your giggles.
“Should we get going? They should all be home now.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
-
“Neteya- oh, and yn?” Jake paused. “How are you, yn?”
The entire Sully clan, excluding Neteyam, were all seated around the cooking fire inside the marui. Jake and Neytiri parked up close to each other: Jake prepping fish for cooking and Neytiri wrapped then placed it above the fire in front of them.
Kiri and Tuk sat next to their mother. The older girl attempted to teach the youngest how to repair a torn Ilu saddle.
Lo’ak lay next to his father, apparently completely uninterested in whatever was happening around him, until the two of you entered together, after which he sat up looking infinitely intrigued.
Tucking your arms behind your back, you squeezed your hands together and mustered up a smile.
“I am well, thank you, Toruk Makto.”
Jake continued to de-bone the creature he was holding before speaking to you again, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
You glanced to Neteyam, the nervousness you had buried starting to resurface again. He took a deep breath and reached behind you, taking your hand tightly in his.
Neytiri, who hadn’t looked entirely phased by your presence, suddenly perked up. Her eyes fell onto your intertwined fingers and then back to your face. It felt as if your heart was beating a mile a minute.
“Actually, sir, there’s…something I want to tell you.” Neteyam’s voice had an uncharacteristic nervousness to it and you could feel the smallest shake in the hand that held yours.
The whole family froze, each with sightly different looks on their faces. Lo’ak looked like he was on the verge of hysterical laughter, Kiri had her own little smile while Tuk was ready to hang off of your every word.
“What is it, Neteyam?” Neytiri asked. She stood and Jake followed suit.
The grip on your hand tightened before Neteyam spoke, “Yn and I, we wish to be mated. Before Eywa.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the family before you reacted. Lo’ak, who had been quietly munching on his dinner, suddenly started to choke and thumped his fist against his chest in attempts to dislodge the obstruction.
Tuk and Kiri had the same reaction, shouting “What?!” at the same time. Tuk visibly more excited about the news, while Kiri looked like this was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.
“My son, you are not yet a man.” Neytiri urged, slowly pacing towards her eldest.
“I have passed two of the three rites of passage of our clan! And now that we live amongst the reef people, I can complete the three by passing one of theirs!” The two of you had anticipated these concerns and had done your research on the matter. Since the Sully’s no longer lived among their own, the three tasks Neteyam had to complete to be welcomed into the Omaticaya as a man were no longer possible. It seemed only fitting that he finish of these tasks by overcoming the Metkayina’s last rite of passage that their men had to accomplish.
“Taking a mate is a serious thing, son.” Jake was now face to face with Neteyam. He had a stony look on his face. “I know you’re friends with yn, evidently a bit more than that, but this will be the person you spend the rest of your life with.”
Coming up beside her son, Neytiri put a hand on his shoulder. “Your father is right, Neteyam. These decisions cannot be rushed.”
By Eywa, you wished the ground would just swallow you whole.
Neteyam noticed your embarrassment and doubled down. “I know that, we know that! We have been talking about this for a long time and we’ve thought of everything.”
His father narrowed his eyes, he still didn’t look convinced, so you decided oh well, you already ready feel like you were in over your head, what’s a little more?
“If I may,” All eyes turned to you, “your son is the most caring, most passionate, and most mature man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He is infinitely understanding and loves with all he has. I cannot speak on his behalf, but I trust in the decision I have made to have Neteyam as my mate.” Your words continued to get smaller and smaller as your felt their stares bore into you.
Silence filled the space, broken up by the soft sound of crashing waves and the chittering of stray Ilu.
Neytiri spoke first.
“This is truly what you want, my son?” The mother laced her hands with the sons free one.
“More than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life.”
A look was shared between Jake and Neytiri and their children stared on.
“Neteyam,” Jake sighed, “I give you my blessing to pursue your remaining rites of passage by the Metkayina.” His hand reached up and latched onto the back of Neteyam’s head, bringing it closer to his own.
“My son, I see you.”
Your partner’s lip quivers and his brows told upward, it is clear he is using everything in him not to cry.
“And you, yn.” Jake turned to you, bringing his hand up to his brow and then back down again. “I see you.”
You repeated his gesture and sniffed, emotions running very high. “I see you, Toruk Makto.”
Jake smiled. “No need for the formalities, not now that we’re family.”
The rest of that night was filled with light and laughter. With songs and delicious food. You couldn’t think of a better way to be welcomed into this beautiful family.
Your heart had never felt so full.
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a/n: so we only know 2 of the Omaticaya’s rites of passage and judging from how Neteyam has a banshee, it’s safe to assume he had begun the process of becoming a man in the clan. I don’t know if he had done his dream hunt so i just said he had🤷‍♀️yeah this took so long because I did a chunk of words every few days💀 anyways until next time, bye :p
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joonie-beanie · 9 months
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Side-Gig | [Peter B. Parker x Reader]
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Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Reader
Summary: Peter gets worried about your apparent “side-gig” and goes snooping, only to discover your side-gig is writing Spiderman smut on commission.
Contents: Fluff, Smut, Consensual Sex, Pussy Eating, Banter, Friends to Lovers???
Author’s Note: I swore off posting fics on tumblr, but since this is just a one-shot, I figured why not. I think Peter B is charming, had to write a lil smth smth for him. And by that, I mean a 7.1k wordcount fic.
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You and Peter Parker are friends. Not best friends, but pretty good friends. 
You like to say you’ve looked out for each other over the years. You don’t talk all the time, but it’s kind of an unspoken promise that when one of you needs someone to lean on, the other person will be there.
Which is why, when Peter and MJ separate, you make a point of inviting Peter over for meals. 
At first, he turns you down every time you ask, and you know it’s because he’s wallowing—depressed about his situation. And that’s understandable. You can’t exactly say you know what he’s feeling, but if you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sure you’d be a little bit fucked up about everything too.
Therefore, you give him a little space—wait for things to settle and for Peter to come around. 
Except, Peter takes it all way worse than you expect—going radio silent after your third invite in two months. Then, you really start to get worried (and also a little mad that he’s ghosting you).
So, you manage to scrounge up his new address using some internet-sleuthing skills, and show up at his door. When he opens it, he’s dressed in a greasy wife-beater, worn-out gray sweats, and white socks with a hole in the toe.
“Jesus Christ, Peter.”
You spend that evening scolding Peter and letting him cry it all out—handing him tissue after tissue as he blubbers about everything on his mind. When he’s finally done, he apologizes for ignoring your last call, and thanks you for looking out for him.
With a smile, you assure him you’ll always have his back, and that now he really has to come over for dinner, because he owes you.
Laughing, Peter agrees. And luckily, he sticks to his word.
Since then, you and Peter make a point of doing dinner twice a month—typically at your place, sometimes out at a restaurant, but never at Peter’s. Not until he deep cleans his messy apartment, and you know that won’t be happening anytime soon.
Tonight, you’re at a restaurant of your choice—a local Italian joint. Peter arrives late, per normal, and you wave him over when you see him walk in the front door. He immediately spots you and hurries over, his eyes darting to the plate of bruschetta you’d ordered for the table, that now only has two pieces left.
“Aw, that’s not fair,” he says, sliding into the booth across from you. He immediately reaches for one, shoving it into his mouth. You shrug, not sorry.
“That’s what you get for always being late. And if I waited for you, I’d be hangry by now. So really, you should be thanking me.”
“Uh-huh,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the menu to see what it is he wants. 
“So, how have you been? I know we just saw each other two weeks ago, but—how’s work?”
You sigh at Peter’s question, resting your chin against your palm.
“Fine, I guess. Work is cutting hours since things are slow right now, so I’m gonna be pretty strapped for cash the next month or two.”
Peter blinks at your response, staring at you over the edge of the menu.
“Should we be here then? We could just get the check now and go down the street to the bodega—”
“No—no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, taking a sip from your glass. From the look of it, Peter can tell the glass is filled with rum and coke—your simple, yet timeless go-to. 
“This is kind of my last hurrah, y’know? Gotta get one last plate of carbonara in before I’m eating ramen and eggs for the next few months.”
“I dunno about that,” Peter responds. “Eggs are pretty expensive now—you might have to settle for canned tuna.”
You roll your eyes at him, yet can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.
“You’re the worst.”
“I know,” he says with a smile.
The waitress wanders back over, and you and Peter put in your orders. Peter also opts to get a drink (after all, if you’re drinking, why shouldn’t he), and a few minutes later, a cosmopolitan is placed onto the table in front of him.
You watch him with a wide smile as he picks up the girly drink and takes a long sip—his pinky sticking out and everything.
“You and your love of sweet drinks,” you say, swirling around the ice in your half-empty glass. Peter hums happily.
“Listen, this is way better than beer.”
Honestly, you can’t disagree.
“So,” he continues, picking up the previous topic. “Are you gonna be okay? Money-wise?”
It’s not like he has much help to offer. Being a masked vigilante doesn’t pay very well, after all, but still.
“Yeah,” you assure him. “I have a side-gig that brings in a little cash-flow, so that’ll help cushion the blow. But I think I should still be able to afford rent and some groceries. I’ll just have to budget better, y’know?”
Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Good—,” but then his brain repeats the phrase “side-gig”, and his words cut off.
“Wait, what kind of side-gig are we talking about here?”
Despite how long the two of you have known each other, Peter has never heard anything about any kind of “side-gig”. It’s a little concerning, honestly, since the two of you don’t really keep secrets from each other.
Although it’s not like you know he’s Spiderman.
“Yeah. It’s nothing illegal, I promise,” you tell him, your attitude remaining pleasant. Peter stares at you, waiting for you to say more, but your smile only grows wider.
“Not telling,” you say, laughing quietly to yourself when Peter huffs in annoyance and grabs his drink. “You’ll just have to trust me. I’d never do anything illegal—you know me.”
“I dunno,” he responds, a playful lilt in his tone. “In college I seem to remember you stealing soft drinks from the mess hall without paying—”
“Oh c’mon,” you shoot back, and Peter grins, knowing you hate when he brings that up. “We were already paying to go to classes! Why should I pay 3 dollars for a cup of watered down coke?!”
Peter laughs as you go on a mini tangent about how college is a ripoff—ordering both you and him two more drinks when your waitress stops in to check on your table.
After a short while, your food comes out, and the two of you catch up over the hot meal. Conversation flows like normal—touching on any other life updates, and also local news topics, and things of the like. 
At your insistence, Peter splits a tiramisu with you to close out the evening, and by the time the dessert is gone, Peter thinks he may explode.
“Ugh, why did I let you talk me into that?” Peter groans, curling over and holding his stomach as you fetch enough cash from his wallet to cover half the bill.
“Well, if you were smart like me, you would have kept half of your entree to take home with you for later, and then you would have had enough room left for dessert. Which, by the way, is too good to waste—so don’t puke it up.”
Your waitress swings by to grab the bill, and you assure her it’s all set—passing her the small stack of money taken from both your and Peter’s wallets. She thanks you with a smile, and then scurries away, leaving the two of you alone.
You reach over the table, patting Peter’s shoulder.
“You’ll be fine. Your stomachs gotten bigger, after all.”
“Hey—,” Peter frowns, lifting his head. You’re already grabbing your purse and takeout box—sliding out of the booth. He quickly follows after you.
“Are you calling me fat?”
“No,” you respond, holding the door open for him as the two of you step out into the cool New York air. “You’re actually still surprisingly in-shape for someone whose diet consists of pizza and frozen meals. But, that being said, you can’t deny you’ve put on a few pounds.”
Peter places a hand on his stomach.
“Remind me again why you’re so mean to me?”
You can’t help but laugh, the sound getting lost in the crowd around you.
“You just make it too easy,” you admit, grinning up at him. Despite himself, Peter smiles back.
Being the gentleman that he is, Peter fully intends to escort you back to the doorstep of your apartment building, but—
His spidey senses tingle, and he can tell something is off. 
“Hey, um,” Peter grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Before your brain can even catch up, he’s yanking you into a quick hug, and then backpedaling towards the alleyway the two of you had just passed.
“Sorry, I just remembered there’s something I have to do. It was nice seeing you! Let’s touch base soon!”
He’s gone before you can even get a word out, disappearing around the corner. You stare after him for a moment, befuddled, and then continue on your way with a sigh. 
Same ‘ol Peter.
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Exactly one hour later, Peter collapses in a pile of trash—his lungs heaving, and body aching. The fight itself hadn’t been that hard—just a few wannabe criminals with deadlier than normal weapons. 
No, the real challenge had been not barfing up his dinner while doing acrobatics across the city.
And maybe laying in a pile of trash to take a breather isn’t exactly helping his current predicament, but fuck—he doesn’t have the energy to move right now
Spreading out his limbs, Peter stares up at the smog-coated night sky, his mind wandering. He thinks about a lot of things—all the villains he’s fought in his time as Spiderman, the people who have come in and out of his life during it all, including you. You…who apparently has a “side-gig”.
…but like, what kind of side-gig?
Peter groans, knowing he won’t be able to let this go. 
You can’t just drop the knowledge that you have a secret side-gig on him and then not tell him what it is! 
And if you’re insistent on keeping it a secret, it must be something bad, right? RIGHT??
“Goddammit,” he grumbles, picking himself up. He swings off into the night, his mind reeling.
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Peter lasts all of 3-days before he decides he can’t be left alone with his thoughts anymore—that he just needs to confirm what exactly your side-gig is, before his theories can get any wilder.
Because so far, his top guesses are that you’re either 1. Unknowingly acting as a middle man for some illegal trafficking operation, or 2. Providing “services” to New York sleazebags to get in their wallets.
And Peter knows it’s likely neither option—you’re too smart to get roped into something stupid. Plus, you had assured him it was nothing illegal.
But if he doesn’t figure it out, he thinks he may explode. 
So…he goes snooping. 
It’s not his brightest moment—using the spare key you had given him “in case of emergency” to sneak into your apartment one evening. (But to be fair, to him…this might just be an emergency).
He’d used his spidey senses to scope out your apartment before coming in, so he knows you're not home. Which is good, but…he doesn’t know when you’re gonna be back either, so he has to move fast.
Softly closing the front door behind him, Peter tip-toes across your apartment, deciding to start in your bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a moment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, but he decides to push forward anyway.
He’s just making sure you’re okay, he tells himself. You’re one of his closest friends, and you won’t tell him your secret—so it’s understandable he’d be worried.
Like the true Sherlock that he is, Peter starts with you dressers. He quickly checks each drawer—gently lifting up the stacks of clothes to make sure nothing is hidden beneath them. (The only time doesn’t is when he encounters the drawer with your bras and panties. He simply stares at them with flushed cheeks, rocking awkwardly on his heels, before he quietly closes the drawer. Surely nothing would be in there anyway, right?)
The small stack of papers on your nightstand ends up being recent receipts, and a manual on how to use the white noise machine you've apparently just purchased, considering it's sitting on the floor beside your nightstand, still in the box.
Getting on his hands and knees, Peter does a quick check under your bed, and freezes when he spots a covered box. He pulls it out without thinking, tugging off the fabric lined lid—
—and immediately slams it back down.
…veiny, pink, silicon—
Peter haphazardly pushes the box back under the bed, hurrying to his feet. He bustles into the kitchen with cherry-colored ears.
All-in-all, it takes Peter about half an hour to search your apartment, and unfortunately…he comes up empty handed. It seems like you have nothing to hide (except a box of sex toys under your bed, but Peter thinks that’s pretty understandable. You don't want dumb assholes like him accidentally finding it, even though Peter had—)
Sighing, Peter takes one last glance around your apartment.
“Ugh, I shouldn’t have done this,” he sighs to himself, taking a step towards the door. But—not watching where he’s going, he stubs his toe into the leg of your coffee table.
A curse leaves his lips, and your opened laptop—which had previously been dark—jolts to life. Kicking the table must have moved your wireless mouse, Peter realizes.
Having already decided to leave, Peter fully intends to continue on his way. That is…before he takes a glance at your computer screen and sees that you have it open to a Google doc titled: “Spiderman x Reader Commission #6”.
…then, he’s scrambling onto your couch and yanking your laptop towards him.
“Number six??” he hisses dramatically, his eyes scanning over the document so fast that he doesn’t actually end up reading anything. 
He has to pause and go back to try again, but the second Peter reads the sentence “Spiderman’s cock strains painfully against the tight confines of his suit, his fingers twitching against your waist as he drags you in closer”, his brain effectively blue screens.
In a panic, he clicks into a different tab that’s open—landing on your email inbox, where a thread sits open. A transaction between you and an apparent “customer”. Someone who had contacted you in regards to your open “commissions”. 
Hi there! 
I saw you’re accepting commissions, and I really enjoyed reading the other Spiderman fics you wrote! Would you be open to writing one for me? Preferably a Reader x Spiderman, and a smut/fluff genre. Based on the rate sheet, I think I can afford it, but I’d appreciate it if we could talk more and discuss the final price based on the idea I have.
Thanks!
Holy shit, Peter realizes. Your side-gig is writing Spiderman porn on commission.
He sinks back into the couch, his mind whirling. 
How long has this been going on?? Do you…are you attracted to Spiderman?? As long as Peter has known you, you’ve never really fangirled over Spiderman. If Spiderman had popped up in the news, the two of you would talk about him, but…that was it.
And now you’re writing Spiderman smut for cash? Holy hell.
Peter supposes he should be relieved that what you’re doing truly isn’t illegal. That you’re just making money in a mostly innocent way, from the safety of your home. Meaning, Peter can call it quits, and leave.
…but instead, he leans forward, clicks back onto the Google doc tab, and starts reading more.
The document is still a work-in-progress, but Peter scrolls back up to the top, wanting to see how you’ve managed to set up this scenario.
As it turns out, a villain had injected Spiderman with some sort of aphrodisiac, and the reader is a bystander, bravely offering Spiderman her services to get him out of this pickle.
While embarrassing to admit, Peter gets sucked into the story—impressed by your ability to write, and your portrayal of him—err, Spiderman. In fact, he gets so distracted by the story and the multitude of thoughts running through his head that his spidey senses don’t kick in until danger is right on his doorstep.
Or, in reality, you are on your doorstep—your key shoving into the lock on the door. 
Peter’s heart nearly rockets out of his chest, his eyes darting to the window across the room. It’s closed, and even if he used his web shooter to rocket over to it, he wouldn’t be able to safely open the window and escape outside in the two seconds it’s going to take you to finish unlocking your do—
Before he can even finish the thought, your front door shoves open, and you flick on the lights—your gaze immediately finding Peter, who is still firmly planted on your couch, looking like a deer in headlights. 
You stare at him in shock.
“Peter? What…? Why are you here?”
“I was…worried about you,” Peter responds, forcing himself to smile. And it’s not like it’s a lie.
“You said you were strapped for cash, and I…I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
You kick the door shut behind you, your purse and keys discarded on the small table beside your entryway. 
“I thought I told you to just trust me?”
You face him with a hand posed sternly on your hip. You appreciate his concern for you, but it’s a little upsetting that he hadn’t just been able to trust your word. 
“I know,” Peter responds with a sigh. He runs a hand through his graying hair, and your gaze flits to his ears, noticing how red they are. Why is he so flushed?
“And I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I should have. Trusted you, I mean. I’ll just—,” he pushes himself up, planning to excuse himself and run, but freezes half way to his feet. 
He’s half hard. Fuck.
If he gets up now, it’ll be a lot harder to hide that—especially since he’s wearing sweatpants.
Making a lil noise, Peter eases himself back down onto your couch. You cock an eyebrow.
“...you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry…back spasm.”
“Well, you don’t have to rush out. You’re welcome to stay for a while if you don’t have anywhere to be.”
You flash him a smile and turn towards the kitchen. Peter watches you as you open your fridge and bend down—fetching two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. His eyes glue to your ass the second you lean over, and Peter punches himself in the knee—forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling.
He’s going fucking insane. He’s not used to being this…feral feeling. Arousal is usually one of the emotions that evades him nowadays, but here he is—done in by fucking Spiderman fanfiction. 
Who knew he’d get turned on reading about himself fucking some nameless woman? And who knew that arousal would make him thirst after you?
(Honestly, if he thinks about it, it’s not that surprising. The two of you have been friends for years, and he feels comfortable around you. Not to mention, you’ve always been attractive, even if you do like to push his buttons—)
“Here,” you say, snapping him out of his internal panic. You plop down onto the couch next to him, handing him one of the two bottles of water. 
Peter reaches out to take it, and you notice the sweat beading on his brow. Why the hell is he—?
At that moment, you spot your laptop on the coffee table—open, and still showing the commission document you’d left open earlier on. Your first instinct is to reach over and slam your laptop shut before Peter can see—
…wait.
Peter reaches forward to take the water bottle from your grasp, but when he grips it, you don’t budge.
Confused, he looks up—only to find you intensely staring at him.
“Did you read it…?”
Peter’s face heats up, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at you.
Busted…
You pulse races, embarrassment blooming in your chest.
HE DID, you realize. HE READ IT. Your fucking Spiderman smut!
“Ah, shit…,” you mumble, letting go of his water bottle and crumpling in on yourself. You curl onto your side, hiding your face in the couch cushion. 
Feeling horrible that he has embarrassed you—having discovered something you’d tried to keep private—Peter hurries to try and smooth over the situation.
“Okay, yes, I did read it,” he starts by saying. “But…it was…really good! You’re a good writer, and I can see why people are commissioning you! You’ll surely make some cash with the skill you have.”
If he was smart, he’d have stopped there, but no—Peter keeps going.
“A-And hey! I’d be willing to help too. Y’know, help give you some inspiration for your stories—”
His voice dies in his throat, realizing what it is he has just offered. And obviously, you realize it too—your head immediately lifting, staring at him with curious surprise.
“Did you just…offer…to fuck? To help me with my stories?”
The insinuation is so insane that you can’t help laughing. Peter coughs, straightening his shoulders out.
“I think I’d be very good inspiration for Spiderman.”
“Really?”
There’s disbelief in your voice. Peter narrows his eyes.
“You don’t think so?”
You hum, uncapping your water bottle and taking a swig. Peter mirrors you, his throat feeling dry.
“Spiderman is…suave and heroic, and you’re…dorky. Smart, but dorky.”
Peter frowns. “I can be…suave.”
You cock an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking out on your face. Your heart is racing a million miles an hour, because never did you think you’d be sitting here with Peter, the possibility of sex between the two of you suddenly laid out on the table. You’d never deny he’s an attractive male, and maybe because it’s him, and because you’ve missed the feel of another human being, you end up saying—
“Yeah? Show me then.”
You lean back, waiting to see if Peter will make a move. 
Unfortunately, the realization that you’re open to whatever is happening right now causes Peter’s brain to stall, and he takes a second too long to act—just long enough to allow doubt to worm its way into your head.
You’re putting him on the spot. And he’s still probably dealing with some complicated feelings from the split—you shouldn’t have poked him.
Without saying anything, you decide to try and create some space. You push off of the couch, padding towards your bedroom. You’ll make an excuse about needing to fold your clothes, or something stupid—and hopefully Peter will take what you’ve said as a joke, and will move on. Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan—
Pausing in the doorway of your room, you force yourself to smile, and turn to face Peter—only to find that he’d snuck up on you—your gaze meeting his chest the second you turn around.
“Pe—,” you’re only able to get the first syllable of his name out, your chin tilting back as you look up at him. The feeling of his palm cupping your cheek is what makes your voice die out, his chestnut eyes boring into you. 
You can see the hesitation on his face. A certain lack of confidence that you’re sure stems from his past relationship issues. But beneath that, you can see desire. A craving for intimacy he hasn’t shared in a long time.
You decide to be the one to close the gap—pressing onto your toes, your palm resting flat on his pec as you lean upward—connecting your lips with his. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips, and you silently convince yourself that if Peter backs out, you’ll be fine with it. 
Luckily, he doesn’t. His brain finally kicks into gear, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he kisses you back. 
You make a pleasantly surprised little sound, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck—effectively deepening the kiss. A wrinkle appears between Peter’s eyebrows, his grip on your waist tightening. Your chest presses flat against his torso, and he rubs his thumb against your cheek, obsessed with the plushness of your lips and the feel of you against him.
It’s been way too long since he’s been intimate like this…that’s apparent by the blood absolutely rockets into his dick.
Although, to be fair, he’d already been half-hard before this.
“You think our local hero gets hard this quick?” you mumble against his lips with a grin, giggling when Peter makes a noise of annoyance and nips at you.
“You’d be surprised,” he responds. He slots his thigh between your knees, backing you into the doorframe. His clothed cock grinds against your stomach, trapped between your bodies, and his muscles tense.
“Adrenaline can go straight to the dick sometimes…”
(Peter has lost track of how many times, after an intense fight—especially earlier in his career—he’d swung home and immediately jerked off).
“That’s fair, I suppose.”
Your fingertips coast up the nape of his neck, tangling in the messy hair at the base of his skull. You yank him downward ever so slightly, your lips connecting with the skin of his neck. He immediately shivers, the first of many embarrassing sounds ripping from his chest as you lick and suck at his flesh.
“Think Spiderman whimpers?”
You’re teasing him. As to be expected, given the dynamic of your relationship. But Peter doesn’t intend on taking it quietly.
“Maybe,” he admits, “If you make him feel good enough. But if you wanna know what I think—”
Peter surprises you by ducking down—his arms looping around your thighs as he lifts you off the floor. Your squeal, arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him since you don’t want to fall, but Peter carries you easily enough—striding into your room and depositing you onto your bed.
He doesn’t waste any time—quickly caging you down. His knee reclaims its spot between your thighs, rubbing incessantly at the dampening fabric covering your privates, and his lips find your neck—a shiver raking up your spine as his stubble scratches against your skin.  
“Peter,” you gasp when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips ghost over your heated skin, brushing past your waist, and finding the clasp of your bra. You have to arch to give him room to work, and Peter sucks a hickey of approval into your neck. He debates telling you “good girl”, but the thought leaves him the second your bra pops open.
He needs your tits in his mouth.
“—I think Spiderman has a thing for boobs,” Peter says, finally finishing his earlier statement. This exclamation is followed with the immediate removal of your shirt and bra—Peter forcibly tugging them over your head and discarding them on the floor beside your bed. 
The sight of Peter groping you and lowering his mouth to your chest is enough to have your heart skipping a beat, and you can’t help the mewl that leaves you when Peter sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.
Peter groans when your fingers fist in his hair, practically keeping his mouth trapped where it is, which he hardly minds considering he intends to lick and suck at your tits until you’re panting. 
And, that’s exactly what he does.
He lavishes your chest with his mouth—relishing in the way your hips jump at each little nip of his teeth or roll of your nipple between his fingers. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how wet it gets you—your panties feeling quite wet as you continue grinding your pussy against Peter’s thigh.
You try and think of some smart response in regard to Peter’s opinion that Spiderman is a tit man, not an ass man, but words seem to be avoiding you. You can’t think of anything coherently when Peter is touching you like this. Especially when his face finally leaves your chest, his lips peppering kisses down the length of your torso.
You lift your head to look at him, propping up on one of your arms. Peter reaches your navel, but doesn’t stop, heading towards—
“Peter,” you pant, your face flushing hotly as you realize the path he’s carving. 
Peter hums, his eyes flitting up and meeting your gaze just as he hooks his thumbs beneath the band of your pants. 
“Another thing about Spiderman…,” he begins, kissing the skin of your tummy as he inches your waistband down your hips. You watch him with blown-wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly—excitement and nervousness mingling inside of you.
You lift your ass off the mattress to help him shuck you of your bottoms, and Peter smiles, tossing your pants on the floor beside your other clothes.
Never in your life did you imagine the sight of Peter sinking to his knees, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer to him—his gaze falling between your legs. Your panties are soaked, and the sight causes more blood to rush into his dick. He’s so hard that it honestly hurts—just a little bit—but Peter still doesn’t touch himself, because—
“...Spiderman loves eating pussy.”
“He’s a people-pleaser,” you quip breathlessly, your thighs quivering in Peter’s hold when he presses a kiss to your skin, right beside your panty line. He quietly chuckles.
“Maybe.”
Peter thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat. You hips buck in his hold, craving more, and when Peter sees the desperate look on your face, he decides to not tease you.
Peeling your panties to the side, Peter finally connects his mouth with your pussy—his tongue licking a wet, broad strip between your folds.
Oh, shit, you think to yourself, the muscles in your abdomen convulsing as you watch one of your closest friends eat you out. The whole situation is making you feel light headed, so you can’t help it when you collapse back onto the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as Peter groans into your cunt.
He eats you like a man starved, his face quickly becoming covered with your arousal. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue sinks between your walls, and you full out whimper—your hips needily grinding against his mouth.
Peter’s palm presses down on your pelvis, forcing your hips to the mattress. He doesn’t want you squirming—just wants you desperate and pliant. To see you cumming on his tongue.
His name falls from your lips again, more debauched than he’s ever heard, and Peter curses.
“Shit.”
His tone is guttural, and sexy, and—
He presses a finger inside of you.
“Oh, fuck, Pete—,” his name deterorates into a moan, your brain function declining as Peter begins fucking his finger inside of you. At the same time, he focuses his mouth on your clit, his tongue urgently flicking against the bundle of nerves. 
You unconsciously wriggle at the assault of stimulation, but Peter’s hand on your stomach keeps you in place.
Why is he so strong? You think to yourself, moan ripping from your chest as Peter slips in a second finger. It doesn’t take him long to locate that spongy little sweet spot inside of you. The one that causes your thighs to shake as he practically abuses it—rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly until you’re nearly sobbing.
The coil in your belly winds tight, heat searing your veins. You can feel your clit throbbing against Peter’s tongue, and the walls of your pussy tightening up around him.
“Peter,” you cry, your entire body trembling. You’re so fucking close.
“Cum,” he rasps. He needs to see you orgasm—needs to feel you unraveling on his mouth and fingers. 
Hearing the gravel of his voice is the final nail in your coffin—the tension in your muscles releasing as your orgasm washes over you. Just as he wanted, you cum all over him, your cunt gushing arousal around his fingers as his tongue continues lapping at your clit, dragging out the waves of your pleasure until you’re panting and pawing at his head, trying to push him away.
After a moment, he relents—sitting back to look at you.
You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and an arm draped over your eyes. Your tits are peppered with an array of hickies, and Peter feels his chest (and cock) swell with pride. He’s clearly done a number on you. And yet…
You feel the mattress dip, and then the room is spinning around you. When things finally settle, you find yourself laying on top of Peter.
He has one arm wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your ass. The other brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you lean back to look at him.
“Spiderman also loves being ridden,” he says with a grin. You place your hands on his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as he watches you struggle to sit up.
“You think I have the energy to ride you after you just did that? And why do you keep saying Spiderman enjoys these things like they’re facts—you don’t know.”
“Just a feeling,” he responds, licking his lips. His hands find your hips, and he grinds you downwards. Your sensitive pussy rubs against his aching length, still trapped behind his sweatpants, and it’s hard to miss the way Peter harshly swallows at the feeling.
You sigh, scooting backwards.
“Fine.”
You shove his sweats and boxers down his thighs, careful to not snag them on his dick. And damn, he really must be aching—a sticky string of precum dripping from the head of his cock, and pooling on his abdomen. 
He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Your fingers wrap around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever Peter had been planning to say crumbles into a needy garble of non-words.
You can’t help but smile at the sound.
“Surprised you didn’t cream your pants already,” you tell him, but your tone is hardly teasing. No, seeing him beneath you like this—the muscles in his torso clenching with every stroke of your hand—it’s actually quite endearing.
“I’ll cum in your hand if you keep doing that,” he pants, glancing into your eyes. You spot nothing but lust there, any previous reservations gone.
“Is that so bad?” you ask, thumbing at the head of his cock. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens, and you hear him take a shaky breath.
“Yes.”
He wants to be inside you, that much is clear. And while it’d be so easy to draw it out and make him beg…you don’t feel like being mean to him. Not tonight, after he’d just given you the best oral of your life.
“Fine,” you relinquish. You scoot forward, planting one hand on his chest, and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Peter’s breath catches when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a heady groan following a beat later as you begin sinking down onto him.
By the time his cock is fully inside of you, your thighs are shaking. Whether from the lack of energy due to your previous orgasm, the remarkable size of Peter inside of you, or both—you’re not totally sure.
“There’s no rush,” Peter reassures you, but the needy warble of his voice betrays his words.
“My legs might give out at some point,” you respond with a breathless laugh, and Peter echos you, giving your waist a squeeze.
“That’s fine. I’ll help.”
With your palms planted firmly on his chest, you begin to ride him. 
And god, you feel so fucking good.
“Fuck,” Peter bites out, watching the space between your bodies, where his cock disappears inside of you with every roll of your hips. It’s been ages since a cunt has squeezed his dick like this, and honestly, he can see himself very easily getting addicted to the feel of you.
The bounce of your tits as you ride him, the cute little sounds you make when his cock rubs against the sensitive spots inside you—he feels like he’s going crazy.
“Peter,” you whine, your pace flattering. Having his cock inside of you is incomparable to the feeling of his fingers, and very quickly, you can feel another orgasm building, but…the closer you get, the more your strength falters.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he responds, praises falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good. You feel so good.”
His words cause your walls to clench around him, and he groans—his hands sliding down to your hips as he helps rock you down onto his cock. The sloppy sound of sex fills your bedroom, and you watch Peter with half-lidded eyes, soaking up the desperation showing on his face. 
His hair is slicked back with sweat, brows pinched together in concentration as he forces you to continue riding him. At least, until he starts craving more.
With his orgasm quickly approaching—despite the immense pleasure he gains seeing you bouncing on top of him—Peter’s hunger gets the best of him.
He grabs your wrists, moves your arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and then secures his arms around your back. Before you can even digest the slight change in position, Peter is fucking you.
An incoherent string of noise slips past your lips, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as his cock pistons inside of you. With his arms trapping you against his chest, you’re helpless but to take it—your orgasm rushing to the surface at the desperate yet brutal pace that Peter sets.
“Peter,” you sob into his neck.
“It’s okay,” he responds without missing a beat, his voice breathless. “I’m right there. Cum for me again, sweetheart.”
As if you could stop.
Holding onto him for dear life, you cum for the second time that night—your walls clamping down on his cock so tightly that Peter’s rhythm falters. A curse rips from his throat, and his hands find the plush of your ass—stuffing your body down onto his dick as he cums along with you—pumping you full of his seed.
The needy tension of the room melts away, and you and Peter can only lay there—a pile of sweaty yet sated flesh. It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths, and you make a quiet noise of disappointment when Peter’s cock slips out of you. 
You can feel his cum running out of your pussy.
“Your balls aren’t dried up yet?”
Peter’s chest rumbles beneath you.
“I’m in my 30’s, not my 60’s.”
You glance up at him when you feel Peter’s fingers clearing the hair away from your face, and he smiles at you. Your heart jumps.
He must know how handsome he is, right? Even with that crooked nose of his.
“Don’t you ever get tired of taking cracks at me?” he wonders, using his grip on your ass to slide you farther up his chest. You giggle, cupping his cheeks as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him. 
“Mmmm, no?”
He rolls his eyes, yet his smile widens. You lean down to kiss him, and he reciprocates easily enough.
“Feeling good?” you ask him, carding your fingers through his hair. He nods.
“Very. I…really missed that.”
“Same,” you agree, sitting back. You need to get to the bathroom before any cum gets on your nice sheets. You crawl off of Peter, swinging your legs over the side of your mattress. He rolls onto his side, watching you with furrowed brows as he tucks his dick back into his pants.
“Same? You haven’t—?”
“Not in a while,” you admit, pulling a fresh shirt and a pair of panties from your dresser drawers. You’re about to make a joke that the only action you’ve gotten recently is from the toys stashed under your bed, but when you turn to look at the spot where they’re hidden, you find that…the box has moved. It’s not where you had left it.
“Did you…find my sex toys? Before I came home?”
Peter’s face goes carefully blank, but the red flush of his ears betrays him. 
You shoot him a glare, leaving your room with a huff.
“Dude doesn’t trust me…how fucking rude…”
“Hey now—!” 
Peter’s feet pound against the floor as he chases after you, and he catches you around the waist just before you make it into your bathroom. His lips press against the crown of your head.
“Again, I’m sorry for snooping. I’m dumb.”
You sigh, wriggling around to face him.
“You are,” you agree, lightly patting his chest. “Dumb, and insistent that Spider man loves tits, eating pussy, and getting ridden. Still holding those beliefs?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Peter grins. “And I have other beliefs about his preferences as well.”
“Of course you do,” you laugh. You kiss his cheek, and then step out of his hold—heading into the bathroom. 
“I’m going to shower,” you tell him. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want any.”
Peter nods, and the last thing you see is him heading for your fridge when you close the bathroom door.
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30 minutes later, you exit your steaming bathroom in your fresh oversized t-shirt and panties, fully expecting to find Peter lounging around your apartment, eating all your food. But…to your utter disappointment, you don’t spot him anywhere.
You sigh, shoulders sagging. Had it been too much to assume he would have wanted to stay the night?
Shuffling into your kitchen, you spot an empty plate on your table. One that you know had previously been piled high with leftover chicken and potatoes.
“He eats my food and runs off…of course,” you mumble, picking up the plate to put it in the sink. However, before your annoyance can truly get the better of you, a piece of paper that had been stuck to the bottom of the plate floats to the ground.
You bend over to pick it up.
Hey!
Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stay so long, so I left my apartment earlier without locking the door. I’m running back home to lock it, but I should be back at your place by 9!
Don’t get mad at me. I’d never run off without a word :p
-PB
PS. I have a working theory that Spiderman also has more stamina than you’d expect, even for a guy who’s been doing hero work for 20+ years, so…round two when I get back?
You can’t help but laugh.
What an idiot. 
But…you like him.
1K notes · View notes
lowkeyerror · 6 months
Text
A New Victim
Sam Carpenter x Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Notes: 1st part of a lil mini-series, had to post something for Halloween, will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually
Summary: You knew something of the rumors surround your classmate, Tara but you never took them seriously. However you find yourself wrapped up in the real life horror story.
Pt2 | Pt3 | Masterlist
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You had heard the rumors about Tara Carpenter and her sister circulating around campus. The rumors didn’t bother you much. Or rather they didn’t persuade you to treat your classmate, Tara, any differently than you would treat anyone else.
Some people were afraid to interact with her in fear of pissing her off. They were more afraid that getting on Tara’s bad side would alert her sister, Sam.
Now Sam was a little scary. You had seen her with Tara a few times. The woman looked like her primary state of being was upset. She looked like a very serious figure.
You didn’t blame her. Their whole group of friends had almost been murdered. Instead of sympathy and compassion the public offered accusations and scrutiny. So much so that they moved away from their hometown to escape the media.
“You’re friends with my sister, right?”
You were sat under a tree on campus the first time you heard Sam speak. Looking at her this close made your heart flutter. She was an attractive woman and that was enough to make you sweat a bit.
Unable to speak for a moment, you nod dumbly.
Sam ignores it and continues with her questioning,” Have you seen her today? I’ve been looking for her everywhere and I can’t find her.”
“She left class a bit early today. I think she said something about Chad needing her help with something.”
Sam rolls her eyes, “Of course she did. I’m Sam by the way, sorry to interrupt you."
Before you can say your own name, the younger Carpenter sister is shouting it as she approaches the tree with Chad trailing behind her.
“Y/n! Don’t mind my overprotective and obsessive sister. What ever she threatened you with, I can promise she won’t do.”
“Where have you been? Y/n told me you left class to meet Chad.”
Tara glares at the girl sitting,” You told her I skipped.”
You shrug,” She seemed worried, so I just told her you left with Chad.”
“Where I am is none of her business. She has my number if she’s looking for me.”
Sam scoffs, “Having your number doesn’t mean shit if you don’t answer your fucking phone.”
“I think we should all just calm down for a second, okay. Tara is safe and everything is fine,” Chad tries to de-escalate the situation.
“No, it’s not fine Chad. Why is my sister skipping classes to meet up with you? And why isn’t she answering my text or calls?”
Y/n had no place in this conversation, but she felt like moving away would only cause a bigger fuss.
“Because we were fucking. Is that what you want to hear Sam?”
Sam runs a hand through her hair,” I don’t care that you’re fucking. I care that I can’t get in contact with you when I’m worried about you.”
“What are you worried about?”
Sam looks at the girl as if she’s grown two heads,” Are you fucking serious Tara?”
Tara groans,” We aren’t there anymore, Sam. We left Woodsboro. No one is coming after us. So why should I have to live my life in paranoia because you can’t move on?”
“Fine, you know what I'm done. Don't pretend you don't have that feeling like someone is always fucking watching us. Don't pretend like what happened back there doesn’t fucking traumatize you and make it hard to live your day-to-day life. But most of all don’t act like there aren’t psychos out there willing to try to fucking replicate that shit because it happens every fucking time, Tara.”
Sam storms off after that. Tara’s eyes soften for a moment before her mask comes back on. Chad goes to rest his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes him off.
It’s only then that her eyes land on you, “You must feel like it’s your lucky day getting front row tickets to the freak show.”
You shook your head, “It’s none of my business, so I don’t really care.”
Chad senses that there’s more you want to say, “But…”
“But your sister kind of has a point. There’s a lot of sick fucks out there that have a weird obsession over him and over y’all. Entire internet communities are filled with those kinds of people. It’s a little naïve to think that just because you moved away that you’re safe.”
Neither Tara nor Chad like the way the last sentence sounds in your voice. They both eye you suspiciously. That’s when you realize what you said could come off wrong.
You began to sputter and put your hands up in surrender, “I’m just agreeing with Sam.”
Chad wasn’t convinced, but Tara had known you a little better. She knew that your awkward demeanor was tried and true.
“Anything else you want to pile on, Y/n?”
You look between the standing pair,” You left class to fuck your boyfriend?”
That leaves them both blushing rapidly. Tara quickly spews out, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
While Chad opts for, “We did not hook up.”
You laugh at their response. Unfortunately for you, this brought you a step to close to the kids from Woodsboro in the eyes of Ghostface.
The killer had watched the entire interaction from start to finish. From the moment Sam approached you, the killer began analyzing you.
They saw the potential interest you had in Sam and your budding friendship with Tara as enough reason to add you to their list.
Tara and Chad eventually left you alone. Shortly after their departure you decided that it was time for you to leave as well.
It was still daylight when you decided to make your way to your apartment. There was a pit in your stomach as you walked. Though the streets were crowded, it felt like someone was staring at you.
You wanted to dismiss the feeling, but you checked your surroundings first. It was almost as if the crowd had faded away and the sounds of the bustling New York streets came to a halt.
Staring at you from across the street, was Ghostface. In your mind this wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been. You had stopped walking, almost paralyzed in your spot.
The killer sent a wave your way, before dragging their finger across their neck. You shut your eyes as you stood still. You were trying to convince yourself that when you opened them, you’d wake up from a dream.
When you feel a body collide with yours, you shriek and push the person away. Your eyes shoot open instantly.
You don’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that Samantha Carpenter was on the ground in front of you.
The woman wanted to yell at you, but the look of terror on your face stopped her. It was like you were in a trance, your eyes were glued to a spot across the street. Sam looks in that direction but doesn’t see anything.
She slowly picks herself off of the floor. She’s hesitant to touch you, so instead she just calls your name, “Y/n, what was that about?”
You turn your attention to the woman, but you look physically ill, and she takes note of that.
“I saw- He’s going to kill me. Oh fuck, I’m going to throw up.”
The bile quickly rises up your throat. You rush to the end of the street and hunch over.
Sam is instantly by your side. She holds your hair with one hand and rubs your back with the other. The Carpenter sister couldn’t really make out what you said the first time.
Once you finish vomiting, she wants to question you again, but refrains from doing so. Though it is against her own set of strict rules, you look unwell, and she can’t leave you like this in good conscious.
The apartment is close by, so she helps you stand and guides you to her apartment. You don’t say anything during the walk, you barely have even the cognizance to pick up your feet.
The only image that keeps replaying in your head is the cloaked figure dragging their finger across their throat. It makes you want to puke all over again.
When she enters the apartment it’s a full house. Tara, Chad, Anika, Mindy, Ethan, and Quinn; were all congregated in the living room.
Sam motions the people on the couch to move out of the way. She sits you up straight and everyone is silent.
“Who is that? I thought we strictly had a no one, except Quinn's hook ups and us, in this apartment rules.” Mindy is the first to speak up.
“Why is Y/n here and why does she look like that?” Tara gives her sister a pointed look.
“Don’t look at me I found her on the street like this. She shoved me to the ground and vomited in the street.”
“Poor thing,” Quinn reacts to Sam’s words.
“Did she say anything? Because it looks like she’s a walking zombie,” Ethan adds.
Sam nods, “She did, but I didn’t understand her and seconds later she was puking.”
Anika nudges Tara,” She’s your friend, try to get through to her.”
Tara slowly approaches Y/n. She gets eye level with the girl who seems to be in a catatonic state.
“Y/n, what happened? Talk to me,” Tara’s voice is gentle when she speaks. A side of her that no one in the house is used to seeing emerges.
You begin to tremble, and your eyes suddenly come alive. Your voice is shaky,” He’s going to kill me."
It was a whisper, but Tara heard you perfectly clear. Sam notices her sister’s body tense after the words left your lips.
“Who?”
You begin to shake your head as tears start to stream down your face. Your head buries itself in your hands.
“I saw him, across the street,” your throat burns as you spoke.
Sam hears that part and interjects herself in the conversation,” Who did you see Y/n?”
“Ghostface.”
496 notes · View notes
refrigeratorwrites · 4 months
Text
⊹ ࣪ ˖୧ ‧₊˚ ACE'S MAJOR: LOVING YOU
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PORTGAS D. ACE x FEM!READER
SYNOPSIS: in which your loving boyfriend is hopelessly distracted when it comes to studying with you.
CONTENT: 1k words, fluff, established relationship, college! au, y/n is a stem major, written with gender neutral reader in mind (but has like, one use of the word, 'girl'), also features lil bro luffy :p
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between pastel highlighters and scribbled sentences, ace is enamored by you. perhaps inviting your silly boyfriend (who only attends lecture after he fails the midterm) to a study date was a bad idea. but who could resist when he juts his bottom lip out at you after you tell him you couldn’t hang out with him because finals were coming up? finals be damned. no one is keeping him from his lover.
“babe, i can’t focus.” except, his own brother maybe.
“ace, we’ve only been here for 30 minutes,” you sigh, setting down your pen to look up at his eyes, which are oddly narrowed by something behind you. “and you haven’t even opened your laptop yet.”
“i can’t help it! luffy’s been making weird faces at me since we walked in,” he grumbles. his eyebrows furrow in frustration. cute, you note. “it’s like he forgets i’m his ride home.”
your heart warms at the thought of the two brothers. despite his incessant complaints about luffy, you don’t fail to catch the softness in his glares and gentleness in his tone when he tells you about the younger boy’s habits.
“weren’t you the one who suggested coming here?”
“‘cuz he wouldn’t stop going on about the tangerine pastries here,” he explains. “plus, he promised to get us some after his shift.” 
you hum in response and his frown deepens.
“babe?” another hum. ace fiddles anxiously with the cat pen from your pencil pouch. he remembers picking it out for you at the bookstore you both went to the other week. reminds me of you, you said, clicking the ginger tail down to test the ink flow. now, i can always keep you with me. his heart swells a little harder recalling your words.
“please, baby, if you don’t pay attention to me for longer than ten seconds, i might start crying.”
“ace, i love you.” you start, looking up briefly to catch his intent gaze directed at you now. “but if i keep rereading the same sentence again, i might start crying."
“but… i miss you…” your boyfriend whines, reaching towards your unoccupied hand. “and i think data structures have seen you more times this week than i have.”
your fingers interlock and you finally lift your head from your textbook to give him your attention. 
“there’s my pretty girl.” the dark-haired man grins cheekily. 
“babe, i really hate being a stem major.” 
your frustration is evident when your eye almost twitches in annoyance at the smug look on his face. you begin analyzing your sweet boyfriend’s features further. well, maybe you couldn’t pretend to ignore him for much longer. just the sight of the soft curls framing his face and littered freckles eased the stress lines forming on your forehead.
“no worries, sweets,” he rubs your hand. “luckily for us, i’m already graduated with the most important major of all time.” 
“oh, yeah?” you knew for a fact that this man has not yet graduated. but it was decided that there was no harm in humoring him a little. “and what would that be?”
“a major in loving you, of course.” 
“hm. with a minor in lame flirting?” you resist the urge to smile. 
“only for you!” he beams. “let’s go visit the cat cafe across the street.”
the saccharine voice of your lover is enough to make you reconsider the rest of your day, but you can’t seem to let him win yet. as you’re about to reply however, a figure makes their way to your table.
“y/n, here’s your order!” luffy exclaims, deeply inhaling the buttery pastry before he sets down your plate. “hope my brother isn’t annoying you too much.”
“luffy! i should be saying that about you.” the two start bickering in front of you. sighing, you continue copying down some more notes as you quietly listen in on their conversation. 
“ewww i thought you guys were studying. why are you holding hands?” you chuckle at the younger boy’s questioning.
“thanks for the food, luffy,” you smile at the boy. he gives you a wide grin in response. “you can have it though, ace and i were just about to head out.”
“oooo don’t mind if i do.” he happily takes back the pastry into his hand. “you’re the best! ace, forget your homework, you should really start taking notes here.”
“you wanna go?” ace chooses to ignore him with an eye roll, sending you a lifted brow. you figure one day couldn’t hurt. not when your clingy oaf of a boyfriend was itching at the thought of spending more time with you, lecture recordings could wait.
“i would never turn down the opportunity to see my cute boyfriend with some even cuter kitties.”
“aw, you think i’m cute?”
“guys…” you almost forgot about luffy still standing there. “i wanna go too…”
“what? you’re still working!” his brother counters.
“i can trade shifts with usopp, i’ll be off soon!” another giggle escapes your throat at his persistence. “please wait for me!”
“we’ll wait for you, luffy.” the boy across from you widens his eyes in betrayal. despite his countless refusals, he’ll always have a soft spot for his brother and you can’t resist his charms either. 
“sweet! thanks, y/n!” he scurries off before ace can protest any further.
“we’ll go if luffy can come with?” you send your boyfriend a sly smile, giving his hand a soft squeeze. a fond smile creeps on his tan skin.
“as you wish, my love.”
and yes, maybe ace will forever be distracted by your beauty as you condemn his lame flirting attempts. even then, however, you’ll always be there to return his loving stare in stolen glances.
(you should really stop going on study dates together.)
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NOTE: welcome to my first lil blurb! this is my first attempt at fan fic so pls go easy on me… had to write about ace bc THATS MY BOY
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skylarsblue · 1 year
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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes✦
(Bros I'm so sorry, I've had the biggest fucking writer's block. I'm hoping some silly lil meme posts will make up for it until I can write something substantial, I'msosorry-)
Y/N: Some of us, I don’t wanna name names, give me a headache when they speak and its- Soap: Is it me?? Y/N: No. Graves: Is it me? Y/N: …it’s not Soap- --
Price: I’m gonna make you a soup. Gaz, delirious with the flu: I don’t wanna be a soup, Captain… Price: …right, how about I give you soup instead? Gaz: That’d be nicer. Price: Right. --
Soap: What the fuck knuckles is this? Valeria: *holding her hyper femme gf in her lap* She’s my girlfriend you intolerant shit. Soap: Whoa! Pump the hate brakes Fox & friends. I’m just surprised anyone would date you. Especially Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony. Y/N, on Valeria’s lap: You know that cartoon? Soap: No comment. Ghost: No, I think you should comment more, Johnny. Soap: NO. COMMENT. Moving on! Gaz: We’re gonna circle back to that. --
Graves: I think the term you’re searching for is ‘current captain’. Ghost: The words I’m searching for, I can’t say. Because there’s a rookie *motions to Soap* present. Soap: No no, say it. I can handle it. Ghost: You sure? Soap: Absolutely, L.T. Ghost: *looks at Graves* Fucking donkey lookin’ muppet bitch. Soap: Brutal blow, sir. Well done. --
Y/N: *comes in* Hey, Gaz, how old is your captain? Gaz: What? Y/N: No not like that…it is, it is like that. How old is he? I came into base, he asked if I needed anything to eat. I said ‘eat what’? Gaz: Okay, first of all, put my plate down and stop hitting on my captain! Y/N: Don’t get mad at me! I don’t even wanna be here. Y’all the ones that want me to be here. --
NPC: Ohhh if I weren’t a lady, I’d deck you! Fem!Y/N: Oh please. Try it and I’d have you on your back so fast you’d think you’re on a date. Ghost: *spits tea* Price, covered in tea: That was so unnecessary- --
Ghost: Mmph. Y/N: Dark room, avoidant, you seem tired despite sleeping for awhile…you wanna try and get out in the sun or do you just need to be in the sadness dungeon? Ghost: *holds up two fingers* Y/N: Would you like some tea for the sadness dungeon? Ghost: …Mhm. Y/N: Tea for the sad dragon coming up! Ghost: Mmph. (Aka “thank you”) Y/N: No problem! --
Y/N: Ya know sometimes there’s times in life where you just have to sit back and go, “ya know what? I’m proud of myself.” Gaz: Is this one of those times? Y/N: No- Soap: *wheeze* --
(Shibari reference)
Price: …alright, when I said we needed to restrain him in a way that ensured he couldn’t get out. This is not- Gaz: These are not military knots. Y/N: No, they aren’t. You all suggested knots that he would know how to get out of. You told me to get rid of that possibility. So, I did. Soap: He is tied…to the ceiling. Ghost: You kinky bitch. Y/N: *shrug* Price: Where did you even learn this? Y/N: That is for me and my daddy issues to know, sir. Don’t worry about it. Just wake him up so we can start interrogating him.
-
Graves: We can rule the world! Ghost: *turns to leave* Graves:: *watches him pull out something of Y/N’s* Graves: WH-YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FUCK MY WIFE Graves: GHOST. G H O S T Ghost: *leaves* --
Graves: Let me log into Twitter- WAIT, IS THAT GHOST’S DICK!?! Ghost: I fucked your wife. Graves: AGGHHHHHH- --
Medic!Y/N: Don’t torture yourself Ghost. *snips bandage* Medic!Y/N: That’s my job.~ Ghost, internally: Stayfocusedwecannot- --
Price: We’re you listening to me at all? Y/N: No I was fantasizing about beard burn. Price: Pardon? Y/N: Huh? --
Ghost: He died of natural causes. Gaz: You pushed him off the roof. Ghost: Gravity is natural. --
Y/N: Nuh Uh, no. I’m not doing it. I have self respect, and I will not stoop so low as to- Gaz: *brings out 100£.* Y/N: -oooooo*takes money* I’ll have it done in an hour. --
Soap, looking at Konig: That man is a tree. Y/N: Then I'm a fucking squirrel. Soap: On the hunt for nuts then? Y/N: Famished for them. Ghost: Why do I sit with you two...
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lady-ashfade · 1 month
Text
All For Us
Day 16 of celebration marathon
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Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader
-♡ ask: this might be a lil confusing idk but can u write something where it's the scene that luke's scorpion thing stings percy and like luke is trynna convince reader to come with him
-♡ words: 700
-♡ good thing I read the book- and posting this 20 minutes early
-♡ warnings: short, angst, betrayal, percy literally dying, book spoilers? Idk if they still counts here
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maybe you should have paid more attention.
there were times were you saw the look in his eyes while he talked about the gods to the younger kids. you knew him, you could hear the venom in his voice when he tried to hide it. you also knew how his cheek creased when he smiled, how his eyes looked with tears stinging them, how his face tightened when he was mad. after all that you may have not knew him like you thought you did.
he had taken percy alone at his celebration and you wanted to join them so you looked for them. never did you think you’d hear what you did, see what you saw.
“luke?” you whisper and step out from the tree you hide behind. both pair of eyes turn to you, one with surprise and widen, the other panicking and scared. the scorpion was crawling up percy’s leg and you tried to not spook them.
“what are you doing here?” just a few seconds ago luke was smirking but now his face fell. how could he be so cruel and acted worried?
“let percy go, he’s just a child.” your feet slowly moved forward while your hands stayed in front of you. “I understand, you know I do— but this isn’t the way to get back at the gods.”
“and what is? should we sing a song?” his growl set shivers through you spine. he’s never snapped at you like that. his eyes never looked at you like that. you take a deep breath and glance down at percy as he tries to stay still.
“kronos? luke really?”
“I have to do this, like you said— you know. come with me and I promise it will be better then what it’s like now.” you try and move back when he walks towards you with his eyes going back to love. even know he was just as beautiful, he was yours.
“I can teach you. we can command a army together, can’t you see I’m doing this for us? our future can be better then what they promise us. stick by my side.”
once he is in front of you his hands reaches up to your cheek. it’s so hard to not pull away from his touch. “you know I’d never lie to you.” tears pooled in your eyes as you look along the face you knew. the scar along his cheek, the smile he tried to give you, but the guilt and sadness was new.
“I love you,” you lean in to press a kiss to his lips which he was glad to expect. you pull away and pain captures your heart and makes it ache. “but I will never turn my back on camp.” you push him away and reach for your own weapon, tears now spilling from your eyes.
luke stands there with a sour look and his chest falls heavily. the look you both shared was twisting the fate you once shared, lovers no more.
you turn when percy groans and moves. the scorpion laid sliced by his side but his hand injured by its bite. you rush to him, you look up at luke with anger. “you’re a monster.”
“you loved that about me once, just because it’s towards him now shouldn’t change anything. goodbye, my love.”
his sword spilt open a portal and he hopped into it without saying anything else. you cried and forced yourself to pay attention to percy for now. his life need to keep you going. so you dragged him to the creek as he still held some strength to move with you. you hoped it would heal but the water did nothing to him so you screamed for help.
in the end chiron come and took him from you. you sat in the creek and let the water flow around you and soak your clothes as you sobbed. was it in anger? was it sadness? you had no idea what you felt in that moment. in times like these he would wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was going to be okay, that he would never let anything happen to you.
what were you supposed to do with him gone.
Taglist: @maria699669 @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows @repostingmyfavs
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lunajay33 · 1 month
Text
Both❤️‍🔥
Summary: There was just something about you that Rick and Daryl couldn’t deny, they wanted you, but will they have to fight for you, who will you chose maybe both?
~Threesome
•Masterlist•
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You were sat in the watch tower with your binoculars looking out by the fences for any danger, as you were looking around you noticed Daryl and Rick in the field and god did they make me feel things, Daryl first caught your eyes with his mysterious quiet guy act, and then when he’d talk to you with that deep voice and the way he’d look at you made your knees weak like nothing you’d ever felt before but then…….
There came Rick Grimes, that sheriff outfit and the way he took charge of the ground had butterflies erupt in your belly and now you were drooling over the two men constantly especially when they’d be hard at work outside with the sun beating down on them, their tan skin shimmering with sweat god it was so hot
As you were fantasizing about them you hadn’t noticed they were looking back at you, obviously you were spying on them, which made them smirk, when you noticed what you’d been doing you quickly moved the binoculars down and climbed down the tower, once you got to the bottom you were met by those devilish men you’d think about late at night
“Hey darlin” Daryl said as he leaned on the wall next to you as Rick was on your other side trapping you
“Hi” you said timidly
“You have a nice look there, have your eye on one of us sweetie?” Rick asked playing with a strand of you hair
You could feel what was happening in your panties, these men really did things to you, you wanted them to do unspeakable things, they were a bit older than you but you were 22 you’re a woman who needs some strong men to break you out of your shell
“Maybe” you said biting your lip
“Oh really, and which one would that be peach?” Daryl asked as he ran his hand down your waist pulling your shirt a bit lower
You didn’t say anything to distracted by the hands roaming your body
“Come on baby, who do you need?” Rick whispered in your ear
“Mmmmm, I need you both” they looked at you with the look that made you knee weak and your heart pump faster
“What do ya say?” Daryl asked squeezing your hip
“Please, please I’ll be good” you whined feeling the fullest affect of these men
“Mmmm I think we should reward her don’t you think Daryl?” He asked as they looked at each other smirking
“Ya I think she does” Daryl took your hand dragging you up the watch tower as Rick followed
Daryl laid you down on the mattress Glenn and Maggie dragged up here, they looked down at you as they continued to remove their shirts and pants leaving them in boxers and god just from the outlines they were big, it was mouth watering
Rick kneeled on your left as Daryl was on your right as they gazed at you body, Daryl pulled you shirt off as Rick pulled down you tight jeans leaving you in your pink bra and panties
“Oh baby were you planning for this?” Rick asked as he ran his fingers higher up you thigh leaving goosebumps in its trail as Daryl couldn’t rip his eyes from your boobs
“Was just waiting for the day that it might happen” you said rubbing your legs together for some friction
“Here we thought ya were a good girl” Daryl said as he unclipped your bra leaving your chest bare as Rick tucked his fingers in the band of your panties ripping them off, now completely nude, this is new to you so you weren’t sure what to fully do especially with two hot men
“What’s wrong baby ain’t ya want this?” Daryl asked as he licked up your stomach to your chest
“Yes oh god yes it’s just……” you gasped out as Rick ran his thumb against your clit
“Just what baby?” Rick asked as he rubbed faster
“I’ve never……you know, I don’t wanna be bad” you admitted making them both stop
“Really a pretty lil thing like ya ain’t ever been touched?”
“All for us now aren’t you baby?”
“Yes I’m all yours, both of you, just teach me I want you guys to feel good too”
“Oh peach we’ll feel good don’t worry ‘bout that” Daryl smirked as he started to suck on you boob as he ran his thumb over the other
“Mmmm Daryl” you moaned right before you felt something wet flick against your clit making you almost scream, bucking your hips
Everything felt so good, Rick fingers digging into your hips trying to keep you down, both their tongues on you made your head all hazy, it felt so good you didn’t think it could get better
Then you felt fingers enter you curling in and out and it pushed you over, screaming out from the pleasure that coursed through you, your legs shaking from how hard it hit you
They pulled back looking at your shaking body as you huffed out of breathe
“How do you feel baby, ready for the real things?” Rick asked pushing your hair back
“Yes please I want more”
“Who first darlin?” Daryl asked as they both stripped themselves of their boxers as their dicks smacked against their stomach, and damn were they packing, Rick had his red angry tip, long and white, and Daryl’s was thick and veiny but still long
“I want Daryl first” you basically whined spreading your legs open, Daryl dropped himself between your legs, gliding his tip up and down your folds pushing hard against your clit
Rick sat up closer to you as he pumped his dick in his hand at the sight of his best friend pushing into you hearing the pop of his dick stretching you out for the first time, you were up on your elbows looking down whining at the stretch
“Mmmm it’s so good, I don’t know if….fuck if I can take it”
“Just breathe darlin, I’ll get it ta fit” Daryl said as you calmed down so he could slowly push all the way in groaning
“She tight Daryl?” Rick asked as you squeezed his thigh
“Damn right, so tight she’s suckin me in, she’s perfect” he said clawing at you legs burying his head in your shoulder breathing you in
“Ya ready?” He whispered in the husky voice
“Yes be careful please”
He started off slow, pulling back until slowly pushing all the way back in till you were fully comfortable with his length, you were a moaning mess but felt bad for Rick so you snaked your hand up his thigh gripping his dick and started to pump it, running your thumb over his slit ever so often causing his to hiss
The noises coming out of all three of you was damn near pornographic, hell this was a porno two sexy men screwing a virgin but god did you love it
“Am I doing good?” You squealed when Daryl hit a certain spot
“So good baby, fuck I’m gonna cum” Rick groaned as he started to thrust into you hand soon after cumming all over your hand, he sat back huffing as he continued to watch Daryl fuck you
“Ya close peach?” Daryl asked as he sat back up and putting your legs over his shoulders perfectly hitting that spot making you screaming feeling that pleasure build in your belly again
“Yes Daryl I’m about to cum keep going”
Rick started sucking on your boobs as Daryl begin to quickly rub your clit finally pushing you over the edge, squeezing around Daryl’s dick feeling him fill you up as he groaned trying to be quiet
You were hazy again the pleasure making you extremely tired but the after wave felt so good, you actually had a threesome
Daryl pulled out as you all watched his cum leak out of you
“Rick don’t think she can take two dicks in one day” Daryl said as he spread your legs wider seeing your red puffy clit
“Next time baby you’re all mine”
—///—///—///—///—///—///—///—
Part.2<-
Guys this was my first full spicy story lmk if I should do a part 2? Also lmk where you guys are reading from, I think most of my readers are international!!
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lovebugism · 2 months
Note
hi hi hi!!! congratulations on one year!! you've accomplished so much and i'm so very happy for you! you deserve all the love and more 🫶🏻💞
as always, i have to leave a little dad!steve request, because who would i be if i didn't? lol. anyway, since you are celebrating your one year, i was hoping maybe we could get something like dad!steve and mom!reader celebrating their one year as parents, aka giving their lil girl her first birthday party? i can just imagine aunt robbie and uncle eddie spoiling steve's baby girl almost as much as he does 🥹
congrats again, bug! love you so so much 🫶🏻
- @honeysuckleharringtons 🍯💛
ty angel!! and ty for keeping dad!steve alive on this blog hahah — you and steve struggle to cope when your baby turns one year old (mom!reader, fluff, 1.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Steve rises that morning before you do. He couldn’t say he woke up, really, ‘cause he didn’t sleep at all. Maybe an hour or more, but that’s being generous. Between decorating the house after you put the baby down (his soon-to-be one-year-old, that is) and stressing all night about tomorrow, tomorrow finally came. Tomorrow is now, and his baby’s a whole year older.
He worried and worried and worried, and the time passed anyway.
You rouse with a cat-like stretch. You look at the clock first, 7:26 a.m., and then over at the boy beside you. He’s already looking at you, the creep. His features are gently swollen from the weight of his middling slumber — pretty pink smile soft and slightly crooked. 
The attention makes you cower as your eyes squeeze shut again. No one should be looked at so fondly so early in the morning.
“Do you know what day it is?” Steve croons to you. 
He props his wild head on his fist and smooths a free hand up your stomach, bare from where your shirt had risen. Your skin is as warm and as soft as it ever was, and his chest stings because Nellie used to be in there. He agonized nine months over for her arrival, and now she’s here — in the bedroom down the hall — and one year old already.
You scoff a faint laugh, weighed down with exhaustion. Of course, you know what day it is, but you humor him anyway. “No, Steve. What day is it?”
“We’ve been parents for a whole entire year,” he whispers, voice faraway with disbelief. 
“Oh. How could I forget?” you joke, giggling into the kiss he gives you.
He pulls away with a gentle smack and smiles softly down at you. “Remember when we thought we wouldn’t make it?”
“That first night,” you answer with a sigh, heavy eyes fluttering shut again. “After we brought her home, and she just… wouldn’t stop crying…”
“Yeah, I know the one…” Steve hasn’t been able to forget it, really. He doesn’t think he ever will, or if he even wants to. It was the first day out of the hospital and the very first time he felt like a parent, when it was just him and you and a colicky baby. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
The stress of the long-gone moment still stings.
“I thought the world was gonna end,” you confess.
Steve’s wide hand gives your bare side a reassuring squeeze. “And look at you now. A total pro.”
“Hush.”
“You are.”
“Only ‘cause I’m copying you,” you argue, equal parts sincere and deflecting. Your wild head tilts against the pillow, and you bring a heavy hand to his jaw. Your palm settles along his stubble with a playful roughness. “I’m glad I shacked up with the best dad ever and not some other schmuck.”
Steve’s grin widens until his honey eyes crinkle at the edges.
“I’m blushin’, baby,” he teases lowly, then leans down to kiss you again. 
It’s a mixture of subtle morning breath and the coffee he’d had an hour or more ago. It’s a chaste peck first, to gain your footing in the early morning, and then a more intentional second one. Then he kisses you a third time, a much more languid thing. His exhaled sigh brushes your cupid’s bow when he melts into you.
You pull back from him (as much as it hurts you) before he can give you a fourth.
“We need to start getting ready,” you tell him. “People will be here soon.”
His features scrunch together, just like Nellie’s does right before she cries. Steve buries his face into your shoulder with a whine that rivals your baby’s. “No— I don’t want people to be here soon.”
Your laugh matches the sunrise. “You planned the party, Steve.”
“Yeah, but when people come over, it means the party’s started,” he rambles, muffled into your neck. “And when the party’s started, it means Nellie’s officially a year old.”
Your hands smooth up and down the length of his pale, freckled back. “Well, technically, she won’t be a year old until later tonight, so… You’ve still got a couple hours with a baby.”
He sniffles, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“Steve, I’m just kidding,” you coo with a soft giggle. “She’s still a baby! She’s always gonna be our baby.”
“Yeah, except now she’s a baby that can walk,” he whines. “And eventually, she’ll be a baby that can talk— and then she’ll be in college, and then she’ll be married—”
“Well, at this rate, you should probably start preparing for her to move out,” you joke drily. He sniffles again. You cave. “Sorry…”’
—————
You languish in the grass a couple hours later, over an old quilt Steve pulled from the top of your closet. 
Energy seems to seep from your pores, ebbing with the setting sun. You’ve spent the better part of your day running after Nellie and tending to guests. Now, all you really want is some peace and quiet, a shower, and a good cry.
Steve sits just beside you, leaning back on his arms while you lay on your stomach. Both of you keep a vigilant eye on your baby girl — watching while she gets all the attention she deserves and smiling to yourselves because she’s the most loved baby in the universe.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Steve asks after a few minutes of silence. Well, not silence, exactly. The radio’s playing distantly, and the chatter hasn’t stopped since Dustin arrived (first, of course, and a whole hour early).
“It’s stressing me out that there’s food on a blanket,” you murmur in response, chin bobbing against your folded arms.
Steve laughs through the chips in his mouth. “Well, that’s the point of a picnic, baby.”
“I know,” you sigh and get distracted again. “I can’t believe how popular our baby is.”
“Well, I mean, she is our daughter, so… It kinda checks out.”
“Shut up.”
“Look at Eddie— What an idiot.” Steve chuckles as he watches the wild-haired boy drive around the backyard in a bright pink Barbie Jeep. It was a present for Nellie, of course, but she can hardly walk, let alone drive the damn thing. 
Eddie cruises around in it for her, lanky limbs barely fitting inside. It whirs as he drives it back and forth over the patio.
Nellie’s having more fun watching him than she would be driving it herself, you think. She squeals with delight in Joyce’s arms, smiling a big, toothless smile and clapping (as best she can with chubby baby hands) every time Eddie reappears from behind her.
“How’s our baby so pretty?” you wonder quietly to yourself. “Like, how did we do that?”
Steve ponders the question with a deep huff. He turns to lie next to you on his back, then grimaces when the ground does little to cushion his aching spine. A harsh reminder that he’s not sixteen anymore.
“Well… Her mom is the most beautiful woman on the planet, and her dad’s pretty alright, so… One plus one equals two, I guess.”
You squint. “Don’t flirt with me, Harrington.”
“Can’t help it,” he shrugs with a boyish, lopsided grin. “You’re too pretty. I have to love on you, or I’ll die.”
You start to make a joke then — about how Little Eleanor definitely got all her dramatics from her father. But then Steve leans in to kiss you, and you lose it. You can taste the birthday cake and Coca-Cola on his breath as he nears you. You forget how to form words in your mouth.
“Wait,” you murmur, pulling back before he can kiss you. You raise a hand to swipe away the crumbs sticking to the corner of his mouth. “Okay. Now you can kiss me.”
You never need to tell him twice. His lips meet the very corner of yours until he can realign himself for a more direct, proper peck to your mouth.
“Hey, hey, hey!” you hear Hopper scold from ahead of you. 
The two of you pull away from each other with a soft smack and find the man walking towards you. He’s got crumbs in his mustache and a cheekful of the hotdog he holds in his hand. He’s got his work boots on, too, paired with a pink and green tropical button-up. The coolest shirt he owns, you figure, especially for Nellie.
His sharp features are screwed with disgust. “This is a kid’s party. Keep your hands to yourselves.”
You laugh because the only real kid here is Nellie. And she’s far too obsessed with Eddie to care about anything else.
“Sorry, Hop,” Steve mumbles even though he doesn’t really mean it. He’s just not in the business of smart-mouthing the chief.
You are, though. And it’s one of the million reasons why he loves you so damn much.
You peer up at Hopper, squinting one eye to shield your gaze from the golden sun. “You know we have a baby together, right?” you wonder in a monotone.
He takes another too big bit of the hotdog and shrugs. “Well, yeah. She’s, like, the best thing ever— Obviously, I know that.”
“So then you also know that we kinda made her by not keeping our hands to ourselves.”
Steve chokes back a laugh when Hopper gets so suddenly stern. His features harden as he points a firm finger your way. “Don’t,” he murmurs in a feeble warning, then decides to leave well enough alone. He walks back towards the bustling party, beelining for Joyce and Nellie because he’s in desperate need of a purer cleanse.
“Holy shit…” Steve sighs when his laughter dies down.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he hums to himself, a soft smile on his lips. “I just love you.”
Your nose scrunches. “Ew.”
“Like, I get to be in love with you forever. How cool is that?”
His boyish musing makes your chest sparkle. “I’m glad you’re coping well,” you tease with a sigh as you lean over to lay on him. Your head rests against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat there, slow and firm. You exhale again, with content this time. “‘Cause you’re stuck with me, Harrington. For life.”
You feel a chuckle rumble in his chest. “You make it sound like it’s prison.”
“It’s not?” you joke.
“No, baby. It’s heaven. It’s better than heaven,” he tells you, then gets immediately distracted. “Wait— Like that song— Ooh, baby do you know what that’s worth—”
“Steve!” you giggle at his offkey crooning. 
“—We’ll make heaven a place on earth!”
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wolfytoothy · 1 month
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BEAT THEY AHH
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This was recommended by one of my bookie wookies @liauroo
No offence to all the Tiffany’s out there😅.
You don’t know what happened, but all you remember is you laying on the floor, barely unable to move, then the sound of an ambulance, and miles face, him saying words but it came out muffled.
Now your here.
Sitting in a hospital bed, with a busted up face.To be specifice a bloody nose, busted lip,bruised cheek, knuckles, and a sprained ankle.“MA, what happened!?” Miles asked, bursting into the room with a worried expression. “ Well got into a lil brawl apparently” you said sheepishly as you nervously laughed. “Did you win- I mean, With who? when? Why?” He asked as he cupped your face. “With Tiffany, during the second period, cuz she was talking through her neck and thinking nothing was gonna happen to her with her stank ass” you sassed, crossing your arms, kissing your teeth as you did. “Actually she got in 2 fights” Someone announced making both you and Miles turn their hands. It was J.B. your best friend. Well about to the EX best friend if she keeps exposing you like this.“TWO” Miles yelled looking at you slightly disappointed. “Wit who?”, “an argument with the kid named Hakeem and a fist fight with Tiffany” J.B. confirmed making you scowl. “Wait, I was just in the period with you, how is that possible?” the man complained.
“Well it all happened when-”
Flash back:
“Ms. Carter, can we please send Miles Morales to the counselor office” The announcements said.
“Yea sure”
The class was in the middle of a group project till he got called. Everyone feared Miles, they had so much to say but couldn't say it to his face. It honestly pissed you off. As soon as he closed the door, Hakeem started to stalk his shit. “Uh oh, looks like mama’s boy needs therapy” Hakeem teased. You could feel your soul shift, “well atleast his mama wants him unlike your ass” you muttered, but just enough got him to hear you. The male's eyes widened as he got flushed when some of the people heard you.
Him being aggressive and never shutting up. So when the teacher left the classroom for a bit, he took the opportunity to grab your desk making you face him, there could be a loud screech being heard throughout the class catching everyone's attention. “The fuck did you say lil girl” he spat getting in your face.“If I can smell your breath, then back. Up” you said in a warning tone, fr about to get physical. “
I was talking to you lil girl” he spat grabbing your face, making you grimence as he pulled you closer. Since he touched you first, it would be labeled as self defense. You kicked him in the knee causing him to hunch over.
“Don’t try that shit again with me bitch, next time your ass will be getting mollywhopped.” you spat.
End of flashback:
Miles stared at you with his mouth slightly open. “W-wait he said huh”. “Mhm, he does it everytime” you admit. Miles was high key flabbergasted, then he got himself. “I appreciate you defending me ma, but I can handle it myself” he reassured. “Baby I don’t give a damn, I’m your twin, I’m not gonna let that slide”,
“You're literally in a hospital bed right now”,
“Miles i don’t give a fuck, I should have molly-woped his ass,and it was worth it”.
Miles was disappointed. He pintched his nose bridge and layed back in his chair. “Do I even what, to here the buffoonery you got yourself into with Tiffany” he asked.
“Actually she had a valid point for rocking her shit” J.B. objected, making you nod. “So it all started a lil while back where everyone and they mama was accusing me of flirting with her man, but literally everyone and their mama knows I’m talking to you,” you started as you sat up.
“Right, so what happened?”
“I rocked her shit is what happened”
“Oh sweet jesus”
Flash back:
You were currently on your way to your next period and that required you going down the stairs. As you took the first step you felt hands on the back of your shoulders and a strong ass force pushing you. Making you stumble and literally hit your forehead on the pole. Gasp and laughter erupted as you clutched your head in pain. “Son of a gun” you muttered, feeling a hard pounding run through your head. Then all of a sudden,someone and their hot breath pinned me against the wall. “Yo, what the fuck-” bit before you could finish ou were interrupted.“ so You thought you could flirt with my man and get away with it weirdo”. You instantly knew it was tiffany.
“Yo wa-”, “Answer the fuck question slut” she spat. When you proceed the information, and it all settled in, you realized. She was really playing with her life. But that fall and you hitting your head on that pole really messed you up, and her just pushing you against the wall repeatedly was messing you up more. “Get your hands off me” you yelped, pushing Tiffany's arm off of you as you clutch your head in pain. And just like any girl fight, She pulled your hair, but that didn’t last long when you grabbed the collar of her shirt and tripped her laying her on her back. A move Miles taught you a while ago.
And just for good measure, and for fun, you kicked her in the gut.
But before the fight could even, you blacked out.
End of flashback:
“She pushed you down the stairs!?” he yelled making you recoil a bit at the sudden outburst. “yes that's what I just said bookie. See now if I had caught myself in time, then I wouldn't be in the hospital bed while the doctors try to make sure I have no concussions.” you complained. “Not you still putting her in her place when you were on the verge of dying” Miles chuckled.
“Yea, and from what I’ve heard I sat on top of her, witch I don’t remember” you said genuinely. “Well that part I do remember” he said traumatized, a shiver going down his spine.
“In my defense I’m innocent as can be, They all put their hands on me first, and it’s technically labeled as self defense so I’m not in the wrong” you admit rolling your eyes. “Sweety… no”
“What, it’s a win win anyways, I got sent to the hospital, and she did as well”
“You sent her to the hospital!?”
“Of course, may I remind you she pushed me down stairs, why are you on her side”
“...You know what you're right, lemme’ go pay Hakeem and Tiffany a little visit”.
“Miles, no”
“Trust they will be dealt with”
207 notes · View notes
sugudollz · 2 months
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suggestion!
so !toxic boyfriend geto, he’s constantly cheating and he’s toxic and reader (preferably fem) tries to leave him but doesn’t have the backbone to. But when reader is finally ready to leave geto he decides to “fuck” sense back into reader while he tells reader that they’ll never find anyone better then him, and he’s the only one for them and saying all that other toxic manipulative shit
⊹ ࣪ ˖ Thinking about toxic bf! Geto…!
MDNI!! Toxic relationship obv. Kind of mean Suguru but also like very underlying and lowkey ykwim... Kind of rough n aggressive. Lil bit of praise. Kind of tiny bit of plot?? Sort of body worship. He cums inside (wrap it before you tap it). No prep. I don’t really like the ending I’m sorryy :<. The way my jaw dropped when I read this ask (positive) I was so!!!
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It’s almost eight at night, and you’re oh so amazing boyfriend, Suguru, still hasn’t returned home. He’s been gone since nine in the morning, when he told you he had an important meeting to attend to.
But every other day… you’re aware he spends it with other women. You know that, he knows that—hell, he knows that you know that. It’s not like he ever tried that hard to hide it from you, and you’d appreciate it if he at least put a little effort into not breaking your heart.
It’s as if Suguru feels a sense of superiority knowing that even with all of his toxicity, you still stay with him.
Still, the dick is good.
When the clock hits eight, you deem it time for bed. Sighing, you stand up from the couch, still wide awake even as you shut off the television.
You walk through the home until you stand in front of the shower. An almost expressionless face embracing your features, but the way you sink your teeth into your bottoms lip proves your frustration.
It’s been on your mind lately, the thought of leaving Suguru. You know it’s what’s best for you. It’d save you the heartbreak and disappointment in the inevitable future where Suguru will render you unneeded.
The only thing that stops you is… well, you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The nervousness and anxiety that rushes through your body whenever you feel like you’re finally ready isn’t any help, either.
That’s when you hear the familiar sound of the door to your shared home with Suguru open. Turning your head back, you listen attentively to his footsteps.
“I’m home, baby,” you hear Suguru call from the other room, though it’s a little muffled from the distance between you and him. Clenching your fists, you turn your heel, facing the creaked open door to the room you stand in.
With shaky hands, you open the door so you can see the entirety of the hallway. You make your way to the living area where Suguru stands, and you find him undoing his tie with his long, veiny hands and slightly tired eyes.
“Welcome home, Suguru,” you say, but it could be classified as a whisper with the way you utter it under your breath and almost inaudibly.
Suguru’s eyes dart to your glorious figure. He’s always found you pretty, of course he wouldn’t think the opposite. You’ve always been rather gorgeous to him.
“Missed you, pretty,” Suguru smiles gently and spreads his arms, waiting for you to engage in a hug with him.
But to his surprise, you stand sheepishly before him, your fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.
“Um, Suguru, I have… to tell you something…” you murmur and it catches Suguru’s interest.
“Yeah? What is it?” He lowers his arms slowly as he asks this. Sucking in a deep breath, you look up to face him.
“Um… y’know, I think…” you gulp, “we should break up…” you look down again before you announce this.
Suguru releases a short fit of laughter, clearly finding your worries humorous. Until he sees that you aren’t laughing, he’s silenced immediately.
“Excuse me? Repeat that for me, please, baby?” Suguru tilts his head as he steps towards you, only to move behind you when he’s before you and wrap his arms around your body.
You can already feel Suguru’s cock press against the fat of your thighs, and you’re already praying to any god that you can just disappear or take back what you said.
Suguru has this distinct aura that surrounds him when he’s with you or even just when you say something upsetting. You can’t exactly explain it nor put your finger on it, but it makes you go sheepish in an instant.
“I said, um…” you exhale, “we should break up.”
And with just four words, the whole room goes silent. The only noise that’s present is the calm breathing that comes from Suguru.
Finally, a laugh is drawn out of Suguru’s throat. He turns his head so his lips are near your ear, his warm breath fanning over your skin.
“Doll…. Come on, why would you ever wanna do that? Baby, you’re being dumb.” Suguru practically scoffs but a kind smile still plays at his lips.
“I mean, it’s just… I don’t think this is working out, it’d be better for the both of us if—“
“Baby, don’t. We know that’s not true. Come on, princess, you know you’re the only one for me, yeah? How could you want to do something so cruel as to leaving me…?” Suguru feigns hurt, his eyes watching you from your side profile. A pout is drawn on his lips and that just makes it all the more harder to speak your mind.
“No, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just—” you’re cut off by a gasp that was elicited from you by Suguru’s digit sliding across your clothed pussy. You drop your head down so you can watch his finger work it’s magic. “S-Suguru…”
“Yes, baby doll?” Suguru presses a kiss to your neck, a sly smile tugging at his lips as he listens to your little gasps and sighs. You bite your tongue in a vain attempt to stifle your embarrassing noises.
Your hand flys to Suguru’s forearm, your cheeks flushing as you squeeze your thighs together. He can feel the arousal pool between your legs, and it grants him a feeling of power.
Removing his hand from your pussy, Suguru takes yours, then leads you to your shared bedroom patiently, as if he was just taking you to bed.
He opens the door and walks you inside before closing it behind him, leaving you in a state of confusion until you notice the outline of his hard cock through his jeans.
Suguru places both of his hands on the side of your face, just to smash his lips against yours—it’s wet and it’s sloppy, especially with the way he slides his tongue past your lips with ease.
“I think my baby needs some sense fucked back into that pretty little head of theirs, huh?” Suguru mumbles against your mouth before he pulls back to work on the belt that holds his jeans. You throw your arms around his neck, clinging onto him.
After ridding himself of his belt, he slides his jeans down, along with his boxers and exposing his hard on to you. At the sight, you gulp, walking backwards to fall on the mattress behind you.
“Take off your clothes, yeah, baby?” And so, you do. You place your two thumbs on either sides of the waistband of your pants, shimmying them down your legs, followed by your wet panties. Then, you lift your shirt over your head, and Suguru almost laughs when he sees you’re not wearing a bra.
Suguru takes his cock and lines it up with your sweet cunt, bending over your sprawled out body so he’s whispering in your ear again.
“You can go without prep today.” Suguru’s voice is breathy as he gently pushes his cock into your tight pussy, and even he’s not mean enough to not at least ease you into it. Murmurs of, “shh, shh, shh, shhh…” and, “take it, baby, I needa fuck some sense back into you,” slip past his lips.
He groans when he feels you clench around him, and you whine when you feel him in you. It’s only been at least a minute and your hands are already pulling at the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut as you pant.
Suguru’s hand reaches for your cheek, where he gently caresses it as he watches your face shift from nervousness to one of pleasure.
However, his loving hand contradicts his hips perfectly. Without much warning, Suguru begins to fuck his cock into you, moving his hips at a drawn out pace… until he’s not. There’s no build up, he’s just thrusting his length into you, his eyebrows knitted together and his tongue is barely poking out of his lips.
Suguru leans down so he’s grunting in your ear, his sweat dripping down his face. “Baby, you really think you can find someone else?” He mutters in your ear, his voice teased with a hint of irritation.
You bite your tongue, turning your head and throwing one arm around his neck to ground yourself to the bed.
“I’m the only one for you, princess,” Suguru groans, “why can’t you see that?” His voice feigns hurt, and it really does make you start to question and even feel bad for every word you said to him prior to this situation.
Suguru’s cock is reaching far and deep, hitting every right spot and making your walls clamp down on him. He’s so aggressive with his hips, but his eyes watch you closely and carefully.
Opening your eyes, you’re met with Suguru’s furrowed brows and a very faint frown.
“You’re so tight…” he groans as he feels your pussy sucking him in, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And so fucking gorgeous.” Suguru’s hips are mean and nasty and they have your back arching and your cunt dripping, coating his dick. “I just can’t believe you’d try to leave me,”
“Suguru, I-I’m sorry,” you whimper, vision going blurry as your eyes swell with tears and you’re not sure if it’s because of guilt or because of how well he’s fucking you. You dig your nails into the flesh of his back, and despite the stinging, Suguru grins.
“Don’t be, baby,” Suguru presses a kiss to your neck, “everyone makes mistakes. I just need to fuck these silly thoughts out of that head of yours.”
The way his dick hits your sweet spot with every thrust of his hips has you seeing stars everywhere you look. You can feel your tummy tightening, knots tying, and your legs going numb.
“Suguru… ‘m gonna cum,” you whine but avoid looking Suguru in the eye.
“I know,” he says and grabs your jaw, carefully turning your head so you face him. “Of course I know. We were made for each other, I know everything about you…. Sweet girl, do you wanna cum?” And in response you nod your head frantically, moans falling out of your parted lips. “Yeah?”
Suguru’s hands move down so he can grab your thighs from the bottom and push them to your chest. He’s fucking you even harder, his eyes still watching your face expressions shift every now and then.
“And you’re taking me so well… don’t you see how fucking perfect we are, baby?” Suguru has your vision going blurry now, and you bite your tongue. Your juices coat Suguru’s cock as he pounds into you, your stomach getting tight the more he goes on and fucks you. “Cum, baby,”
And from those words alone, you’re gushing over his length, head thrown back as Suguru watches you experience pure ecstasy. Your vision goes white, your mouth formed into a little “o” shape.
Suguru admires you from above before leaning down and planting his lips on yours, not even putting a halt to his relentless hips. Your nails are almost painful in his flesh but he pays it no mind.
As if your high triggered his, Suguru is releasing his load in you, a whine escaping his throat every now and then as he does. That’s where he stops moving his hips and he just keeps his eyes on you.
Bending down, he trails kisses from your lips to your neck and up to your ear where he stops and murmurs, “you’re not gonna leave, baby? Yeah? Gonna stay here with me, ‘cause I’m the only one who can make you feel so good, the only one who could love you so much… you know that, right? You know that I love you more than anything in the world?” His voice is breathy and low, his breath warm against your skin. You nod, cheeks flushed and skin sweaty.
“Mhm… I know, Suguru..” you respond, throwing your forearm over your eyes as your lips shift into a faint pout.
“Yeah? Say it back, ‘Kay?” He goes back to placing kisses all over your neck and to your shoulders and chest as he gently pulls out of you.
“I love you, too,” you say in a shaky voice, carefully moving your arm to your forehead so you can watch as Suguru presses his lips affectionately to your skin.
“That’s my girl,” Suguru mumbles with his lips still against you, slowly moving downwards. When he reaches your tits, he grins and slips your nipple into his mouth, gently suckling and swirling his tongue around it. His eyes are on you, and yours on his, and he keeps eye contact with your he whole while he sucks your nipple.
His hand cups your other boob, playing with the nipple with his thumb by rolling it around and pulling it lightly. Suguru squeezes your tit, eliciting a moan from you.
Abruptly, Suguru moves away from your boobs and proceeds with planting kisses down your body. When he reaches your stomach, it’s like he can’t get enough, because the kisses are wet and sloppy, sliding his tongue up the flesh and he’s practically making out with your stomach. Muffled moans and groans are pulled from Suguru’s lips as he kisses your stomach.
“You understand that no one else can love you like me, right, sweetheart?” He watches you from your stomach, and he sees the way you sheepishly nod, chest heaving from the intense moment. “That’s a good girl.” Suguru crawls up to you and lays his body beside you, wrapping his arms around your exhausted body and pulling you close to his chest.
“So you’re not gonna leave me?”
“No, I swear it,” you whine, borderline sob, your voice muffled from the way you’re pressed against him.
“Mhm, my sweet girl,”
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© 2023 sugudollz only on Tumblr — do not copy, repost, translate, or steal.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months
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Reindeer
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Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and you and Javi spent the night preparing for your girls to have the most magical Christmas morning
Word Count: 5.2K
Paring: Dad!Javi x Wife!Reader (No use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f recieving), creampie, praise kink, talk about not using birth control, kind of getting caught (??? Thank Santa's Reindeer I guess), terrible Christmas puns, sweet, sickening Christmas fluff, Javi spoiling the crap out of his little girls because he loves them more than life, idk you guys, this story is just a warm lil Christmas hug 😭
A/N: IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!! Christmas is my favorite holiday, and I have been so excited to write about our adorable lil Peña family and their holiday endeavors 🥹 These two would do anything to give their girls the most magical Christmases ever and my heart is exploding into a million pieces 😭💕🎄
Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist
“Mommy, is Santa coming now?” 
“No, baby. Not until tomorrow.” 
“...Is tomorrow now?” Your 4 year old Harper questioned, plopping herself down on the couch next to Javi, snuggling herself in between her dad and older sisters as you tucked the girls in with a big, fluffy blanket before finding your spot next to your husband. 
“No Harper, Santa comes at night. When we go to bed. Remember?” Elliot sassed, letting out a huff of frustration at how many times her younger sister had asked about the long awaited arrival of Christmas morning. 
“Elliot! If you’re not nice to Harper, Santa may not come!” Your oldest Lucy gasped, trying to police her younger sisters’ behavior within an inch of her life to ensure that she would wake up with presents under the tree tomorrow. 
Elliot’s face went white in fear, immediately reaching over to her younger sister and pulling her in for a long hug. “Sorry, Harper. Santa will be here tomorrow morning… I hope.” 
“I don’t think you girls need to worry, I’m sure Santa knows you’ve been pretty darn good all year long.” Javi grinned, leaning over on the couch to wrap the girls up in his broad grasp, making them giggle and squeal as he tickled and peppered them with playful kisses. “Okay, Pollitas (little chickens) what do you say you guys start the movie and Mommy and I go make hot chocolate?” Reaching over to give your thigh a little squeeze, Javi shot you a little wink, tilting over to press a soft kiss into your hair. 
“Yay! Hot Chocolate!” The girls screeched in unison, waving their little arms in the air in excitement as they snuggled closer together on the couch. “Thank you!” 
“De Nada (you’re welcome).” Javi beamed, letting out a little grunt as he pressed his hands into his knees, rising up off the couch, giving each of the girls one more kiss before making his way to the kitchen. 
“Alright cuties, which movie, Rudolph or Frosty?” You smiled, making your way over to the TV to hold up their VHS options. 
“Rudolph! Rudolph!” The three chanted, wiggling in excitement in their spots as you pressed the tape into the VCR and hit play on the remote, following Javi’s suit as you gave each of your daughters a quick kiss before making your way into the kitchen where you found Javi with a handful of Christmas mugs and an extra large can of whipped cream. 
“Javi…” You sighed, letting out a little laugh as he set down the five mugs on the counter followed by the whipped cream, “I think we probably should go easy on the whipped cream tonight, you already know how hard it is to get them to bed on Christmas Eve, and a sugar high isn’t gonna help.” 
“What makes you think I’d give ‘em too much whipped cream?” He smirked, shrugging his shoulders at you as he pulled the box of hot chocolate out of the cabinet, setting it next to everything else before snaking his hand around your waist, pulling you in closer to peck a quick kiss on your lips, staring down at you with his sweet brown eyes. 
“Because,” You huffed playfully, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him another peck back between your words, “you spoil these girls rotten. They’ve got you wrapped around their fingers, Jav, each and every one of them.” 
“Can you blame me?” He beamed, gesturing towards your daughters all snuggled together, giggling and singing along to the movie. The two of you couldn’t help but admire your beautiful girls, letting out a content sigh as you rested your head on his shoulder, taking a moment to soak in how truly lucky you were- because truth be told, you couldn’t blame Javi one bit. 
“No, I can’t. God, they are cute, aren’t they?” 
“Cute just like their Momma.” Javi grinned, sneaking his hand just a little further down your waist to grab a handful of your ass, making you let out a little squeal before giving him a playful smack in the chest. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You smirked, making your way over to the fridge to grab your milk, completing your hot chocolate ensemble. “I honestly should be having coffee right now considering how late we’re gonna be up, setting up presents and putting things together.”
“C’mon, we’re pros at this by now.” Javi teased, now getting to work on warming up the hot chocolate ingredients. 
“Oh yeah? Tell that to Santa who insisted on getting the girls a brand new hockey net that still needs to be assembled, even after all of their gifts had already been bought.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at Javi as you began pouring the hot chocolate into the girls mugs, sprinkling mini marshmallows on the tops of their cups. 
“They’ve been extra good…” Javi pouted, shooting you a guilty look as you handed him over mugs to be topped off with whipped cream. 
“Well, I sure hope Santa didn’t lose the instructions to put it together because Mrs. Claus will not be assembling the net at 2 am.” 
“Don’t worry, we’ll be done before then. Gotta make sure Santa has plenty of time to give you his North Pole before Christmas morning.” Javi chuckled, biting down on his lip to contain his laughter as you gave him another nudge, snickering along with him. 
“You are such a dork.” 
“What? You’ve been a good girl this year too, you don’t want Santa to stuff your chimney?”
That one made you almost drop the two mugs you had in your hands, letting out an audible snort as you set them down on the counter, burying your face in your hands to try and hold in your laughter. 
“You are fucking ridiculous, you know that? Finish up these hot chocolates, you dummy, your daughters are waiting for you.” You smirked, picking back up your mugs as you began to make your way out of the kitchen. 
“Like you’re waiting for my balls of holly later?” Javi quietly called out behind you, making you whip your head around to give him the biggest stank face you could muster, unimpressed. “What? That’s a good one.” Javi insisted, still laughing at his own joke. 
“Ridiculous, I swear.” 
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It wasn’t long after your hot chocolates were finished that the girls had passed out on the couch, cuddled in a pile between you and Javi and buried under the blanket that had been spread across the 5 of you. You probably should have woken the girls up to get them off to bed, but you and Javi couldn’t help but relish in the moment of your family snuggled together in the soft glow of your Christmas tree lights, your hearts feeling fuller than any present under your tree could make you.
After the two of you finally agreed you had soaked in enough snuggles, you gently woke up Lucy as Javi slung Elliot and Harper over his shoulders to carry them off to bed, unable to stop yourself from admiring how broad he looked with your two girls and their matching pajamas and sleepy hair hoisted on either side of him. 
You helped Lucy and Elliot get settled into their rooms, promising to make your way back to say goodnight after tucking in Harper, still sound asleep in Javi’s arms as he laid her down into bed, gently tucking her into her covers, brushing her tangled curls away from her face and pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead. Elliot was next, now half awake after being dropped off in her room, stumbling her way into her own bed, grumbling a half awake “Goodnight Mommy and Daddy” as she snuck into her sheets, nestled between the mountain of stuffed animals piled between her mattress and bedroom wall. You and Javi couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly your little rock was back to being sound asleep as soon as she hit the bed, already inheriting her dad’s obnoxiously loud snoring at the ripe age of 6. Lucy was the last stop on your bedtime train, seeing as she was the most awake and coherent as she had at least been able to walk herself to bed after you and Javi had woken her up. 
By the time you and Javi had gotten to her room, she had already settled into bed, pulling her comforter up to her face as she snuggled up with her worn and well loved stuffed penguin, her little face lighting up as the two of you made your way though the door.  
“Hi cutie pie.” You cooed, sitting on the edge of her bed, gently stroking her hair as Javi settled down onto the mattress next to you. “You ready for Christmas tomorrow?” 
Lucy nodded, a slight look of concern now spreading across her face as her big brown eyes stared back up at you. “Mom… Santa’s gonna come tonight, right? He won’t be mad at Elliot or Harper because sometimes they aren’t always good… Well okay, I guess I’m not always good either, but-” 
“Amoricta (Little love),” Javi cooed, reaching over to reassuringly rub her back, cutting her off mid sentence, “You and your sisters are the best daughters that we could ask for. I know for a fact that Santa knows that. And I also know that he knows what a good older sister you are to Elliot and Harper. Don’t worry, Monita (Little Monkey), I’m sure Santa will come.” 
“Okay Dad. Te amo (I love you). I love you too, Mommy.” Lucy grinned, snuggling deeper into her sheets with a content sigh, slowly beginning to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. 
“We love you too, Lucy.” 
“Te amamos mucho, linda (we love you so much, cutie).” 
As you and Javi each gave Lucy one last kiss goodnight, pressing gentle kisses in her messy hair, you gently closed the door behind you, the soft click of the last bedroom door knob signaling your success at getting the girls to bed before the real work of Christmas Eve began. You turned around, holding out your hand to give Javi a quiet high-five to celebrate the easiness of your bedtime routine before snaking your hands around Javi’s waist, caging your chest with his as you looked up at him. 
“I think that was the quickest we’ve ever gotten them to bed on Christmas Eve.” 
“I don’t even think the whipped cream even had anything to do with it.” Javi teased, shaking you playful in his grasp. 
“Pendejo (Jerk). C’mon, let’s go get these cuties some presents, Santa.” 
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After your 8th Christmas with kids, you and Javi had gotten present set up and placement down to a science. After several trips up and down the stairs to the basement, all of the gifts for the girls had been set under the tree as Javi got to work on setting up his inevitable last minute gift that seemed to make its way out of Santa’s Workshop every year, even when all of your agreed upon gifts had already been purchased. 
Javi sat cross legged on the floor, directions and hockey net parts spread out in front of him as he grumbled to himself trying to connect two of the pieces together, letting out a frustrated sigh while you set out the plate of cookies the girls had decorated for Santa, laughing at your husband’s current fight with his late gift. 
“How’s it goin’, Jav? Need me to call in the elves to ask for help?” You snickered, plopping yourself down next to him, grabbing a few pieces to help with assembling. 
“Shut up. I think I’m almost done, I just have to put the net part on. Is everything else set up?” 
“Mmmmhmmm. Including the reindeer carrots that are your turn to eat this year.” 
“Fuck me…” Javi sighed, shooting you a menacing look, “Do I have to? You know I-” 
“Oh believe me, I know how much you hate the carrots.” You giggled, mischievously raising an eyebrow at him, handing over a few of the pieces you had put together to connect to the existing frame of the hockey net. “I did it the past 2 years in a row. You are such a baby, you know that? Your turn for carrots this year, Peña. I made sure they were the biggest ones I could find. You know how hungry those reindeer are.” 
Before Javi could respond, he was grabbing you around your side, tickling your stomach as payback as you laughed and squirmed in his grasp, flailing your arms as the two of you rolled over on the ground. Javi pulled you to lay on top of his chest as he rested his back against the floor, wrapping his arms around the small of your back, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. You tried your best to keep your squeals semi-silent to prevent waking up the girls as his mustache brushed against your skin, the smile spread across his lips pressing over your body. 
“Don’t think- don’t think your adorable antics are getting you out of carrot duty.” You snickered, cupping your hands around his cheeks, pausing his assault of kisses as his sweet brown eyes stared up at you. 
“Me? Trying to get out of eating those terrible ass vegetables? Never. What would make you think that, Hermosa?” Javi smirked, his voice oozing with sarcasm as he shook his head at you, caging you tighter against his chest as his hands slid down the small of your back, now grabbing handfuls of your ass, making you let out a little squeal. 
“Javi! You are so bad!” You playfully scolded, trying to pry off the tight grip his palms had on your backside to free yourself. “Presents and carrots first, you know the rules.” Smirking down at him, Javi let out a reluctant sigh, finally releasing you as he sat back up, picking up one of the remaining pieces of the hockey net left to assemble, shaking his head in a sarcastic disappointment at his failed attempt to at least prolong the inevitable. 
“You don’t wanna let Santa stuff your stocking early this year, huh?” Javi teased, giving you a little shrug as he chuckled to himself at the terrible Christmas puns he had in stock tonight. 
“Jesus fucking Christ, Javi…” You sighed, burying your hand in your face in embarrassment at your husband’s terrible joke, giving him a little shove as you stood up, making your way back to the kitchen to set up the rest of the cookies and carrots before the two of you headed off to bed. “You keep making those terrible puns and I’m gonna make you wrap your present before you give it to me.” You joked, eying the half hard bulge still in Javi’s sweatpants and gesturing your head towards your bedroom where your unopened box of condoms sat untouched in Javi’s nightstand- You had never started taking your birth control again after having Harper, and while you and Javi had agreed that 3 girls was the perfect number of kids, you also hadn’t necessarily been proactively preventing yourself from having a 4th. Javi had bought the box in an effort of good faith a few months ago, but hadn’t seen an ounce of action, despite all of the action that had happened without them. 
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good, don’t put me on the naughty list yet. Like you’d want my present wrapped anyways…” Javi smirked, snapping together two of the last pieces of the hockey net before pressing his hands to his knees, letting out a grunt as he stood, and pushing the net by the rest of the already arranged presents. 
“I swear, I’m sending you back to the North Pole.” 
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With your living room perfectly arranged for Christmas Morning, you and Javi made your way back to your bedroom, stopping to do a quick peek in on each of the girls as you traveled down the hallway. All 3 lay sound asleep in their beds, quietly snoring away, you and Javi making your way to your bedroom with a quiet high five for Christmas Eve accomplishments- presents assembled, girls asleep, the palpable excitement of the holiday hanging in the air. 
“Bets on what time they’re up tomorrow?” You laughed, looking over at Javi, standing in the doorway brushing his teeth as you stripped out of your clothes and into your pajamas. Javi let out a playful huff before stepping back into the bathroom to spit out the rest of his toothpaste, setting his toothbrush next to yours before taking off his shirt and sweatpants and tossing them into the hamper with your freshly shed clothes. 
“If it’s anything past 5:30, I’ll be happy.” He chuckled, climbing into bed with you, sneaking his way under the covers and wrapping his arms around your waist, making you giggle as he tugged you closer, pressing ticklish kisses over your neck and face as you playfully swatted at him. “If my girls are happy, I’m happy.” 
“I’m sure the girls will be more than happy. Considering how much their Daddy spoils them rotten.” You teased, reaching up to cup Javi’s face, your thumb gently stroking the scratchy stubble of his cheek. 
“What? Santa only comes once a year, right? I’d give ‘em everything if I could. They deserve it. Just like their Momma deserves everything too.” Javi gently rasped against the skin of your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point, forcing a breathy moan to escape from your mouth. “God I still don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Hermosa. If you’re the only present for the rest of my life, I’ll die a fucking happy man.” 
Letting his hands snake down your sides, Javi’s fingertips toyed with the hem of your shirt and pajama bottoms, his fingers sliding towards your heat as your lips met his with a gentle and tender passion. You ran your fingers through the dark curls of his hair as he flipped you onto your back, now pressing languid kisses down your stomach as he carefully tugged your pajama bottoms off your hips, tossing them to the floor. Letting your knees fall open, Javi’s soft kisses met the inside of your thighs, a smile spreading across his lips as you revealed the slick that had been pooling between your legs. 
“And this…” Javi smirked, letting his kisses feather closer and closer to your core, leaving your hips to instinctively start to buck towards his face as you waited for his tongue to relieve the dull ache of your already throbbing clit, “This is the best fucking present I could ever ask for.” 
Before you could even roll your eyes at Javi’s cheesy remark, a long, broad swipe of his tongue traveled through your folds, the sensation already enough to have you trying your best to stifle your moans to keep from waking the girls just down the hall from you. Javi took his time, letting his tongue work around your clit in a mix of flat, even strokes and circling swirls, his arm draped across your hips to hold you in place while his other free hand reached up to grab yours, your fingers intertwining, palms pressed together. 
You bit down on your lip as his nose bumped against your throbbing bundle of nerves, letting his tongue plunge in and out of your cunt, the familiar tingle at the base of your spine beginning to build as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets, Javi’s firm grasp keeping you in place. 
Javi had spent years memorizing every tick and twitch that made you writhe under his touch, learning each moan and movement that brought you closer to your end- so it should have been no surprise to you that Javi could sense you were close, yet the sudden switch of his mouth latching around your clit, sweetly sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves, had the coil in your belly on the verge of snapping. 
“Javi… Oh, fuck- baby, I’m close, don’t stop, please don’t stop, oh my god.” You whimpered, trying your best to keep your voice hushed, but despite how hard you tried, you could help but let a muffled moan escape from your lips as you squeezed down even harder on Javi’s hand to try and keep from being any louder than you already were. It wasn’t long before you felt your legs begin to tremble, and heat bloom in your core, your orgasm ripping through your body, leaving you panting and breathless as Javi pulled back from between your legs, a boyish grin spread across his shiny face, now covered in your arousal. 
You could feel your chest rising and falling, your breathing heavy and labored as Javi crawled his way back up the bed, reaching down to help tug his boxers off his legs, revealing his cock, already painfully hard and dripping with precum as you thumbed at his tip, slowly wrapping your fingers around his length, stroking him as a low groan rumbled in his chest. 
As he slotted himself between your legs, you guided his tip towards your entrance, collecting the slick dripping through your folds before caging his chest against yours, pressing into you inch by inch, the sweet stretch of his fullness making you whimper as he bottomed out against your cervix. His lips met yours, his mouth catching your whines as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, like he was savoring every moment buried deep in the warmth and wetness inside you. 
“Shhhhh, gotta be quiet for me baby.” He rasped against your skin, nipping at your ear, almost as if he was trying to remind himself as much as he was reminding you, a deep grunt rustling in the back of his throat. You nodded, your eyes meeting the brown pools of his, filled with an equal mix of love and longing as a tender smile lined his lips, whispering a soft “I love you” to one another before your lips were slotted together once again, your tongues swiping in the parted spaces between your mouths, your kisses slow and solicitous as you became more and more tangled in your sheets. 
Each thrust of Javi’s hips felt deeper and fuller than the last, the lewd noises of your wetness and muted moans coating the walls of your bedroom only intensified as Javi wrapped his broad hands around the backs of your thighs, pressing your legs to your chest, and making you clench tighter around the sweet sting of his stretch. 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, Hermosa. My beautiful fucking wife.” Javi mewled through gritted teeth, snaking his hand between your bodies to rub your clit, still swollen and puffy from your first orgasm. You let out a sharp gasp, so sensitive and worked up, already feeling yourself climbing towards your own high once again as the pads of his fingers circled your mound, and dick punched against your g-spot. 
You could feel your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his cock, fighting with everything in you to keep from screaming out his name, fisting at your bedsheets and clamping your eyes shut, trying to hold out for any ounce of composure you had left. “Fuck, Javi, fuck- I feel like I’m gonna cum again, fuck- oh fuck.” You whined, eyes still closed, head tilted back against the pillow. 
Suddenly, you felt Javi’s free hand slide under jaw, wrapping his fingers around your cheeks, gently forcing your head back down, making you open your eyes to see the wrecked look also beginning to spread its way across his face. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Just need to see that pretty face for me when you cum. Let go baby, I’ve got you.” 
With only a few more thrusts and circles of your clit, you could feel the tingle at the base of your spine beginning to spread through every inch of your body, pleasure rushing through your veins as your orgasm crashed over you. Javi’s hand covered your mouth in just enough time to mute the ragged moans escaping your lips, the feeling of you clamping down around his cock as you came almost enough to take him out right along with you, fighting with everything in him to let you finish riding out your own high before he followed suit. 
“Fuck, fuck- I’m not gonna last much longer, Osita. Oh shit- Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Javi grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster with each snap of his hips, the hand covering your mouth now gripping the meat of your thighs, fingertips digging into your skin. 
“Inside, please, fuck- I’m not ovulating, please, I need to feel you in me.” You whimpered, your brain barely functioning as you tried to form a coherent sentence, still reeling from your orgasm. 
That was all Javi needed to send him over the edge, barely making it halfway through his last thrust before spilling deep inside you, his cock throbbing as warm spend covered your walls, milking himself of every last drop before letting his body slump into yours, your chests rising and falling in sync. 
You both lay there for a moment, breathless and blissed out as you tried to compose yourselves, Javi letting out a soft hiss as he pulled out, resting his head against your chest as you ran your fingers through the damp curls of his hair, a satisfied smirk spreading across your face as you quietly giggled to yourself. 
“What’s so funny?” Javi asked, perking his head up to look at you, his brow scrunched in confusion. 
“Your sleigh feelin’ a little lighter? Because I think I did a pretty good job of helping Santa to empty his sack.” You couldn’t help but snort as Javi let out the most exasperated sigh before joining in your laughter, burying his face in his hand before looking back up at you. 
“And I'm the ridiculous one....” 
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“MOMMY, DADDY! WAKE UP, WAKE UP, IT’S CHRISTMAS!” 
If your daughters' high pitched shrieks and squeals weren’t enough to have you wide awake at the ripe hours of 5:46 A.M., their tiny bodies flopping onto the bed, squishing you and Javi under your covers most definitely was. 
“Mhmmmmm, Merry Christmas, cuties.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, trying to wake yourself up quick enough to keep up with your girls’ boundless energy, giving Javi a stark nudge with your elbow to help wake him up from his log-like slumber. “Jav, wake up, baby.” 
“Daddy! It’s Christmas, you gotta wake up!” Elliot insisted, now jumping on top of her dad, making him let out a loud grunt as her body landed on top of his. 
“Yup, yup, I’m up, I’m up.” Javi grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to wake himself up enough to face the wrath of his energetic daughters. “Merry Christmas, Pollitas.” He smiled, reaching out grab the girls and pull them on top of his chest, making all of them giggle and squeal in delight as the 5 of you snuggled together in your bed. 
“Can we see if Santa came? Please, please, pleaseeeeee?” Lucy begged, her sisters nodding in agreement, bouncing up and down on the bed with excitement as you and Javi inched yourself more and more awake. 
“Yup, let’s g-”
“LET’S GO!” The girls screeched, already scampering off the bed and out the door as you and Javi pushed yourselves up off the mattress, groggily following behind your daughters with heavy footsteps trying to wake yourselves up from your lack of sleep the night before. 
“Do you think Santa brought us coffee?” Javi mumbled, running his hand through his curls, ruffling the ends of his hair as you curled tighter against the oversized sweatshirt draped over your body, letting out a little half yawn, half laugh. 
As the 5 of you finally made it down the stairs, you could hear the girls squealing and pattering around the kitchen, gleefully pointing to the table, where a now practically cleared plate for Santa and his Reindeer sat. “Mommy, look! Santa ate all the cookies!” Harper giggled, grabbing you and Javi by the hand and dragging you across the room to see the lack of sugary treats that had been left behind. 
“And the reindeer too! I told you they love the carrots! They must have been really excited because last night, in the middle of the night, I could have sworn I heard the reindeer making happy noises for their treats too! Mom and Dad, I think they must have landed on the roof by your room, because that’s where I heard the noises coming from!” Lucy informed her sisters, leaving you and Javi’s faces both ghost white at the realization you two were 100% the reindeer that your daughter had heard last night. 
“Oh wow, Lucy, that’s uh- Yeah, they really must love those carrots.” Javi barely choked out, the both of you grimacing at each other in horror, guilty looks plastered across your faces. 
“Let’s go see what’s under the tree!” Elliot squealed, dashing towards the living room, completely oblivious to her dad’s comment, too focused on the gifts sitting under the tree for her and her sisters to care about any reindeer her sister may or may not have heard. Once again, your trio was off, sprinting to the living room, leaving you and Javi practically speechless as you wearily trailed behind them. 
“I’ve always worried about them catching us, but never once did I think about the fact they’d mistake us for reindeer.” You quietly snickered, giving Javi a playful nudge, trying to laugh to keep from dying of embarrassment. “Santa’s definitely putting us on the naughty list next year.” 
“Mommy! Daddy! Come here! Look what Santa brought us!” 
“He got us a new hockey net!” 
“Oh my god this is the best Christmas ever!” 
“I think Santa will understand.” Javi smiled, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest as you watched your girls scamper in joy around your living room, the soft glow of your Christmas tree lighting up their beaming smiles as they began the hunt for their presents. Because the truth was, in that moment, nothing else in the world mattered. Not reindeer noises, lack of sleep, or late nights setting up last minute presents- The only thing that mattered in that moment was the pure love and happiness radiating from every inch of your living room. At the end of the day, you couldn't care how many presents sat under your tree because the best gift you could ever ask for stood right beside you and in front of you, and that was enough to make you feel like the luckiest person on earth. You weren’t sure you’d ever understand what you had done to deserve the world’s most perfect present- Your beautiful family and the life you had built together with them. 
“I love you so much, Javi. Merry Christmas.” 
“I love you more, Osita. Merry Christmas, mi amor.” 
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luckieleaf · 5 months
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oh, surprise! - lee minho
a/n: happy birthday to my other lovely boy 🥺 i hope he has the best day! just a small lil thing for our minho’s 25th birthday! *whispers* do you know what’s funnier than 24?….25!
word count: 635 ish
synopsis: early birthday set up always doesn’t work out the way it should. especially with curious housemates in the way.
lee minho x bestfriend!x reader
please do not copy, steal or translate my writings.
happy reading.
clover ☘︎
─ ☘︎*̥˚─── ☘︎*̥˚─
she sighs with great relief seeing minho’s room dark after turning off her alarm for the third time. his door was still shut. no light poured out through the bottom. the coast is clear.
it’s go time!
she snatched her bag beneath the bed and headed to the living room. it was early morning, she still had about an hour before minho would be waking up to head to work. clicking the switch on to illuminate the shared space, the soft light fills the room.
working diligently with the streamers and balloons, minho’s birthday setup was complete. coming to the end of the hall where he would walk through, was a faux wall of streamers that lead out to the main room. balloons and pictures spread throughout the room hung down showing minho’s life shared with memories of his family and friends. on the coffee table were gifts from the boys and herself. feeling the sudden urge to relax, she felt satisfied with how it looked. she slouched her body into the cushions admiring her work.
“y/n? love?”
she stirred. the voice called out again, a bit more hushed. a gentle touch warms the skin on her leg, feeling circles being made. minho’s breath fanned on her forehead, then to a kiss. her eyes blinked open seeing a ball of brown hair though the haze. she was still groggy to where she was wondering how she got out on the couch. minho is kneeled in front of her awakening figure. his boba eyes were wide, filled with sleep but also mixed with a hint of worry.
her stomach dropped. “oh, surprise!” she yawns.
minho is still kneeled, not taking his eyes off her. she sits up quickly, almost toppling off the couch. minho steadied her.
“slow down, you just woke up.” minho croaked pushing her shoulders back into the couch. “remember you get lightheaded?”
she is scanning the room oblivious to the fact of her roommate is speaking to her. the sunlight was barely over the horizon, as small rays of sunshine cast through the windows. bits of balloons were scattered over the carpet. a ball of orange quickly rushed by.
she’s gawking minho’s way. he is holding back a smug look seeing soonie scampering off.
“you didn’t hear the balloons popping?” minho asks.
she shook her head. minho continued. “I think they popped three of them. I put the rest of the balloons in the spare bedroom.”
“min, i’m sorry. i tried setting up a little something for you.”
minho pulls her up off the couch not letting go of her arm. “why are you apologizing?”
she watches dori wandering past minho’s feet. “all this was supposed to be a surprise for when you were actually getting ready for the day. not being woken by the cats scaring you.”
minho gives the girl a half smile. “you were doing this all for me? this early in the morning?”
“yeah,” she’s playing with the end of her sleep shirt. “i wanted to make sure to surprise you before heading off to work.”
minho’s lips tug at the corners. he ruffles her bed head. “i’m not working today, goofy girl.”
“still, I wanted to be up before you to do a little bit.” she says, wrapping a hand over minho’s forearm.
minho gently tugged at her hand to follow him in the hallway. he stopped at his door. his brown orbs capture all of her sleepy beauty. “we still have the rest of the day to do birthday festivities. if you had planned more.”
she yawns. “some things.”
minho brings a hand to her cheek, running his thumb over her cheekbone. she’s humming into his hand.
“c’mere sleepy girl.” he coos pushing the door open with his foot.
minho helps her into the bed, tucking her under the blankets before crawling in. he leaves a slight gap between them not wanting to interfere her space. her eyes fought to stay open. subconsciously, she’s scooting into minho’s chest. immediately he’s wrapping an arm around her lower half, his hand palming the middle of her back.
the warmth of his body lured her to sleep instantly. minho watches as her chest slowly rises and falls against the front of him. he tactfully tangles his legs with her’s, making sure she’s still in a comfortable position. her hands delicately fold right under her chin; her face is nuzzled into the collar of his hoodie. minho smoothed her hair, going to press a smiling kiss upon her forehead.
“you’re only gift I wanted for my birthday. this is a great surprise. dream of me, my dear.”
─ ☘︎*̥˚─── ☘︎*̥˚─
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