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#i’m barking at my own writing
ivysoul · 10 months
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perv!simon has taken over my brain thank u.
simon riley who’s maybe a bit too friendly with you—his neighbour. always finding an excuse to touch you, whether it be his fingers gently brushing against your cheek as he claimed to have seen a stray eyelash sitting there, or putting his hands on your waist to manoeuvre you to the side to let him pass. he always found some way to be touching you, and you, poor naive you, never took notice to why he would. you always just assumed he was friendly with you because you two were friends.
simon riley who snuck into your bedroom when he was over at your house. you had invited him over on a hot summer day to swim in your pool, figuring he might like to cool off. with the excuse of needing to use the bathroom, he left you in the backyard to float on your floaty in the pool as he ventured to your room, his eyes almost immediately landing on your laundry hamper in the corner. he let his thoughts race for a moment as he toyed with the idea in his mind.
simon riley who took one glance out the window at your relaxed body on the floaty, splayed out with sunglasses over your eyes, the purple bikini you wore didn’t leave much to the imagination. he felt his cock twitch in his swimming shorts. without much hesitation, he moved towards your laundry hamper and dug through. it didn’t take him long to find a pair of your thongs.
simon riley who knew he was a dirty little perv for pumping his cock slow and languid in your bathroom, your pretty panties in the hand wrapped around his cock and his swimming shorts around his ankles. he smoothed his thumb over his slit, letting out a shallow breath from the action. he moaned loud and threw his head back when he used his other hand to cup his heavy balls. he wished so badly he could fill you, both with his cock and his cum. he wanted to pump you full and watch you swell with his child. he wanted to stuff your throat with his cock and have you drool and gargle around the thickness. he wanted to claim you as his and ruin you for anyone else.
simon riley who came hard when he heard you call out for him from downstairs. his groans filling the space of the bathroom as he shot hot spurts of cum on his thighs and on your panties. his chest heaved and his eyes were shut tight, abs hurting slightly from tensing so hard during his orgasm. he didn’t hear the taps on the stairs, and he didn’t hear them get closer and closer to the bathroom door. but when your voice spoke from the other side of the door, he knew something was seriously wrong with him when his cock started getting hard again.
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mcybree · 14 days
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yknow I wasnt feeling like finishing my flower husbands essay (I feel less of a push to now that I dont technically Have To meticulously prove/justify my stance— people do just. agree with me now! which is insane) but I’m starting to think maybe it’s still needed actually
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ujunxverse · 6 days
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looking back on approx one year since i got plagiarized by ckvsen but a huge part of it that irks me to this day is how hard it is to give credit like girlie ripped off a line from my other fics and read my entire masterlist and still refused to apologize. not saying she doesn’t deserve to write again but responding to evidence with “sorry but you’re making me doubt my skills” and “i admit it’s one line but i didn’t know how to write it better” to stealing a literal intro to a work is laughable at best and pity-invoking at worst like how desperate do you have to be to not even come up with your own plot to blow up that’s insane
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ervotica · 5 months
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please don’t go, i love you so
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
“Wanna show me just where you belong?”
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mostly-imagines · 7 days
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Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??
meet the family
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason has a girlfriend???
warnings: none
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The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.
Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.
It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.
“There’s a girl here!”
Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.
Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.
“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.
Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”
“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Obviously.”
Cassandra nods fervently.
“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”
Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”
“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.
Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.
“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”
“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.
“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.
Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.
Knock knock knock knock knock…
Knock knock.
It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.
Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”
He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”
Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.
“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”
“No.”
Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”
Jason shuts the door.
A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.
“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.
“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.
And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.
Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.
“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”
His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”
Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”
He stares at her.
“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.
“Stephanie.”
“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”
“Bye.” He closes the door.
He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.
Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.
Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.
Jason shuts the door in his face.
Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.
It’s Cass.
She stares at him.
He stares at her.
“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.
Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”
She smiles and turns back down the hall.
Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.
“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.
“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”
He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”
“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”
“I’m starting to regret it now.”
“Come on. Please?” You plead.
He picks his head up to look at you.
“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.
“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.
He sighs.
Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.
You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.
“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”
“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”
Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.
You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.
Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.
Jason takes a deep breath like he’s stealing himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”
“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.
There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.
“Hold on—”
“—my god, she’s so pretty!”
“Oh wow—”
“Wait, what?”
”—You’re real?”
“—didn’t place that bet.”
Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”
“I’m—”
But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.
“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.
“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.
Cass waves and signs something to you.
“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.
Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.
“Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—” Stephanie asks.
Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”
Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”
“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.
You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.
Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”
“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.
“No wait!”
You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.
You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”
Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”
You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”
He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.
You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”
“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”
He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.
He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.
The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.
You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.
“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.
You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.
He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.
As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his right is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.
“Bruce.”
Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.
“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”
Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.
Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.
Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.
“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.
He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”
Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.
“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.
“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.
You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”
He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.
“Jason.”
Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.
“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.
“Yes.”
He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”
Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”
Bruce nods. “Good.”
He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.
Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.
He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…
Oh god, you went back to the living room.
As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.
“—long have you been together, anyways?”
“Well—”
Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”
“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.
Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”
Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”
A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.
“What?”
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ellecdc · 2 months
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Can i request something bit angsty? 🥺 its totally fine if you dont wanna write it tho!
I was thinking, wolfstar x reader got into an argument and reader started to occlude and the boys got scared they might be out of line bcs she only occlude when shes really hurting?
this is my SHIT - love me some hurt/comfort. thanks for requesting, lovie 🫶
poly!wolfstar x fem!readerCW: hurt/comfort, arguing, mention of past family discourse, toxic family memories
“I’m sorry. You did what?” Sirius beseeched, walking into the living room from the kitchen and interrupting the points (arguments) you and Remus were each in the process of making. You gave him an unimpressed look, knowing he wasn’t actually asking you to repeat yourself, he just couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“She gave Mary-Ella over a grand.” Remus muttered bitterly.
“I did not give Mary-Ella money, I loaned her money.” You were quick to correct.
Sirius just scoffed. “Sure you did, dollface.” He sneered, making his usual pet-name burn to the touch. “You are never going to see that money again.”
“What were you thinking?” Remus implored.
“I was thinking that my friend was in a bind and needed help. I hardly think that’s a crime.” 
“You didn’t just loan a little bit of money, though. You loaned a lot of money to a friend who is not reliable in the slightest.” Remus asserted.
“We have been working so hard trying to save up to move. To move closer to Diagon Alley so that Remus can be closer to work, and we can finally get out of my uncles flat.” Sirius added.
“I know we’ve been working hard, Sirius. I know this because I too have been working hard. But I’m not going to watch my friend struggle when there’s something I could do to help!”
“This choice impacted all of us. You had no right to make this decision on your own.”
It was your turn to scoff as you turned to glare at Remus incredulously. You had been trying to stay patient, knowing that this close to the moon, Remus was feeling extra sensitive. But him ganging-up on you with Sirius quickly found what little patience you had running thin. “I 'had no right' to make a decision about money that I made on my own?”
“You have no ground to stand on, buttercup. You’re now out more than a grand because of this choice; we’re all out more than a grand because of your choice.” Sirius growled, tone full of derision.
“If the roles were reversed, Mary-Ella would help me out!” You tried to reason, only for Remus to bark a laugh.
“That doesn’t even matter, dove. Because you’d never be in her position and likewise, she’d never be in yours. She’s irresponsible, unreliable, and a mooch.”
You tried to ignore the burning sensation in your sinuses as you spoke to the back of Remus’ head; he apparently had grown so disgusted with you that he couldn’t even look at you anymore. 
“I don’t like you talking about my friends like that. I don’t understand why we’re making such a big deal about this, I jus-” but you were cut off as Remus stood abruptly and turned on you. 
“We’re making this a big deal because it is a big deal!” he bellowed. “You leave this apartment in the morning and it’s like Sirius and I don’t exist anymore. You conduct yourself like some single woman with no responsibility to anyone else but herself.”
“You’re being selfish. You can’t possibly expect to drop a bomb on us like this and, what, expect us to just reply with ‘yes dear’? You fucked up, Y/N.” Sirius added, arms crossed defensively over his chest and cold silver eyes glared daggers that permeated your entire being. Remus carried on, unperturbed by the effects this conversation was having on you.
You felt like you were seventeen again, like you were eleven, nine, six. You felt like a babe whose hand had been slapped for reasons beyond your comprehension.
Do you ever stop and think about the consequences, Y/N?
You were sitting at the dining room table as your father lashed you with his words, each sentence punctuated with the slamming of his fists on the table. You were standing on the platform having just reunited with your parents after the school year as your mother’s claws dug into your arms, warning you that punishment was to come later if you didn’t smarten up. You were cowering in the backyard as your father screamed at you in front of the entire neighbourhood – a free show for all to enjoy. 
You think crying will earn you any sympathy here? You’re a manipulative little witch if you think that will work on me. Keep crying and I’ll give you something to cry about. 
You felt naked – like your figurative clothes had been violently ripped from your body – and there you stood, stripped bare for all to leer at. Standing before two people...who were meant to love you unconditionally...as they laced their words with venom and spat vitriol at you.
You couldn’t even hear the point Remus was trying to make anymore. It didn’t matter anyway.
He hated you. You were hated. You were a disappointment, a burden, unwanted.
But you couldn’t cry – could never cry. You’d just be manipulating them. You were deceitful. Emotions were deceitful. The way you felt was wrong. And they were right.
Always right. 
So, you did what you always did; you made it quiet. 
You began layering rows of stones around your being. Protection. Space. Distance. Safety.
They couldn’t hurt you from all the way in here, not from the other side of your wall. You’d be safe here. Here in the quiet.
It was safe in the quiet. 
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Sirius felt disgraceful at how long it took him to notice the signs of you pulling away from the conversation. Away from them. Away from him.
Remus – always more sensitive than the two of you when it came to the likes of money, combined with feeling extra flustered with the upcoming full moon – had no reason to expect nor recognize signs of occlusion. 
Suddenly, Sirius was fourteen again. Walburga was standing over him with her wand aimed at his chest, but all he could see was Regulus. He had prayed at the time that his brother could hear him begging in his mind:
Turn it off, Reg. Just turn it off. It can’t hurt you if you turn it off. 
Sirius himself sat in an almost constant state of occlusion during his fifth year, knowing somewhere deep in his gut that the beginning of the end of his life as the heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black (or the end of his life in general) was near. 
Growing up wasn’t a whole lot easier for you, it seemed. And he knew that when things got to be too much, you did what you needed to do to protect yourself.
He suddenly hated himself. You weren’t supposed to need to protect yourself from him and Remus. It was their job to protect you; just like you always protected them. 
How you protected Remus from wasting away on the days leading up to and recovering from the full moon. You never let him go hungry or thirsty, you always made sure the space was clean and tidy, and you never let him fall into his typical pre- and post-moon self-loathing.
And you protected Sirius from himself; from saying things that he wouldn’t be able to take back, from being the worst version of himself, from losing you and Remus completely. 
He didn’t deserve you.
You didn’t deserve this.
For fuck’s sake all you had been doing was being kind.
Being a good friend, someone that others could rely on, protecting people who meant so much to you. 
All you were doing was being your kind, courteous, protective, generous self that Remus and Sirius had fallen in love with from the very start.
“Moony!” Sirius pleaded, causing the lycanthrope to pause in his tangent. You didn’t even flinch at the sudden change in the atmosphere as Remus looked at Sirius bewilderedly. 
“We’ve lost her.” Sirius murmured quietly, causing Remus to spin to observe you. 
“Well...” Remus began, still struggling to shake off his anger and the need to argue. “But I-”
“It’s enough, Remus.” Sirius hissed quietly, staring at Remus with a look he hoped conveyed no nonsense.
He apparently succeeded as Remus let out whatever breath he’d been holding as he turned again to face you.
“Dove, I’m sorry.” Remus whispered as he tried to move towards you, but you instinctively took a step back to maintain the distance between you; your arms wrapped around your middle protectively as if that was all that was holding you together. 
Sirius’ heart felt like it split in two – and based off of the look on Remus’ face, he wasn’t fairing any better.
“Y/N?” Sirius tried. You didn’t turn to look at him, but you hummed in quasi-acknowledgement.
“Can you look at me?” He tried quietly, but you shook your head no. 
Remus made a pained sound as he tried to move towards you again, ducking his head down in an attempt to make eye contact with you. You didn’t back away from him this time, but your arms tightened in their hold around your middle.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I...I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m...I was out of line.”
“Come back?” Sirius pleaded. “Please.”
You took a deep breath and turned your face towards your boyfriends, but Sirius could tell your eyes were still foggy – you were still hiding.
“We won’t talk about it anymore. That conversation is done.” Sirius said.
“But-” you started, voice grating from the tightness in your throat, but he cut you off.
“The conversation is done. You did what you thought was right, you were being your kind lovely self, helping your friend when they needed you. We shouldn’t have yelled at you, sweets. I’m sorry.”
Remus made another pained sound and moved closer to you again.
“Dovey, I’m so sorry. Please, can I- would you like a hug?”
Sirius watched as you looked at Remus, seeming to weigh your options before you nodded once at him. Remus needn’t any more invitation and quickly (though gently) made for you, enveloping you in his arms. 
The three of you stayed like that – Remus with his arms around you, you with your arms around yourself and your face pushed into his chest, and Sirius standing helplessly at the side – before Sirius started to notice some tension leaving your shoulders.
“Why’d you go?” He asked you quietly, gently placing a hand in the middle of your shoulder blades and rubbing in a way he hoped was soothing.
“I didn’t want to cry.” You admitted into Remus’ chest, neither boy missing how tight your voice seemed to be, even as your voice barely raised above a whisper. 
“Oh, dolly. Just cry. Cry, okay? Make us feel like tossers, but don’t leave.” Sirius said.
“I didn’t want you to feel bad.” You muttered wetly, finally turning so Sirius could see your red and wet face. 
“But we deserved it. Oh, my love.” Remus cooed as he all but picked you up and locked your legs around his hips, forcing you to move your grip from around yourself to around him.
“I’m not s’posed to make you cry. I’m s’posed to make you smile.” He muttered pitifully, pressing his lips into your hair.
“And cum.” Sirius spoke in the same pitiful tone, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.
You laughed wetly and the last of your occlusion appeared to slip away which was what Sirius had been aiming for. It didn’t make him feel all that much better though.
“Oh, my girl. I’m so sorry, Pads is right. You were just being your lovely self, and I’m a bastard.”
Sirius watched as your brows furrowed. “You’re not a bastard.”
“No,” Sirius agreed readily, “he was just being a bastard. Both of us were. Do you think you can forgive us?”
You nodded quickly but Remus tsked in response.
“Don’t let us off so easily, dovey. Make us pay for it. What do you need? Do you need a foot rub? You want cake? Ice cream? What about a kitten? You’ve always wanted a kitten.”
You had been shaking your head at everything Remus said until the last one, your curiosity obviously piqued.
Fuckin’ hells, Sirius thought, if she gets a kitten everytime one of us acts like an arse, we’re going to be overrun with cats by next month. 
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phntmeii · 7 months
Note
Hii! Can i request jealous sanji x reader? 💗
Jealous!Sanji At the Bar . . .
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Pairing: Jealous!Sanji x Pirate!GN!Reader
General Warnings: Touchy guy at the bar, Catcalling/Unwarranted Flirting, Possessive!Sanji
A/N: Any opportunity to write for this man and I'm on my hands and knees barking. Absolutely self-indulgent post so ty anon!! <33 Love all the OPLA requests coming in :p
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> Sanji was always one to make his interest in someone almost annoyingly clear. And it applied to damn near everyone he had met.
> He couldn’t help but fall in love all the time. You’d always make fun of how it seemed he fell in love with damn near everything with a pulse.
> It was the whole reason you didn’t take his interest in you as anything special. He flirted with everyone. That was just Sanji’s personality, right?
> You and the rest of the Straw Hats found themselves at a bar to cool off. The sea was unkind and people were even less so. A break was well-needed and well-deserved.
> Everyone found themselves in their own little corner; drinking, dancing, whatever they found most interesting.
> You got yourself your own drink to assist in cooling off. Both seats beside you were empty until a man found himself seated beside you.
> “Hey, pretty thing… Don’t see many like you ‘round here.”
> Already, you were dreading this. There were plenty of seats anywhere else but he had to choose to sit beside you.
> Zoro, who had been watching the room with a beer in hand noticed him sitting down beside you. His arm elbowed Sanji, receiving an already annoyed yell in return.
> Zoro just rolled his eyes, “Hey, waiter. Use your eyes.” Zoro knew that Sanji felt more for you than he did with others and thought it’d be interesting to see his reaction.
> It was not the most earnest thing in the world but he knew it’d be entertaining for him.
> Sure enough, once Sanji’s eyes land on you, all he saw was your back toward him and a man who was smiling all too much.
> He was immediately upset, thinking maybe you were entertaining this guy. But the moment he saw that man’s hand find its way to your back and begin gliding down, he was marching his way over.
> Sanji put his hand on the man’s shoulder, receiving a slight jump from him in reaction. His hand was slightly aggressive in its grip.
> “Apologies, sir. But I need to borrow them for just a moment.”
> Before the man could even get in an annoyed response to having his “goal” taken away from him, Sanji grabbed your arm and walked away with you.
> You were confused as well. You were more than capable of taking care of yourself, especially when strangers tried to get handsy. Your hand was already on the dagger you kept tucked away when the man had approached only to be dragged away by Sanji.
> “Sanji, what the fu-“
> Your speech was promptly interrupted when Sanji took you into the single bathroom, shutting the door and putting you against the door.
> His eyes raked over you like a goddamn animal. It was clear he was annoyed before he looked down and calmed himself. It wasn’t your fault. He was mad at the guy, not you.
> “That guy was being an ass.” He looked up, returning to his overly-cocky grin. “Can’t let mon amour be harassed like that, can I?”
> “I could handle him”
> “Never said you couldn’t, love.”
> He was being overconfident, as per usual, but with how close he was—barely inches away from your own face, words were escaping from you to use in response.
> Sanji’s hand reached up, taking your chin between his two fingers. Making his usual charming smile, he spoke softly.
> “Just be careful, hm? Want you all to myself… I’m not one to share someone… so... perfect."
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⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
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ddejavvu · 7 months
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hiya! i’m literally in love with your writing!
i was wondering whether you do another part of the cat animagus collection?
maybe one where no one can find where r is, they spend ages looking for her. when they reach the dorms or something she’s in a really odd spot that only a cat could get to
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4
--
After a thorough search of both the grounds and the castle, Sirius Black bursts through the door to his dormitory and looks wildly around the messy room. He sees Remus studying at his desk, James reading upside-down on his bed, several piles of dirty laundry strewn across the floor, but no you.
"Jesus, mate," James hisses, righting himself and looking bewilderedly at his friend, "What's the matter with you?"
'Gimme the map," Sirius demands, and when James doesn't scramble for it fast enough, he barks, "The map, Prongs! Y/N's missing."
Remus's nose scrunches, "She had a headache earlier. She's probably in her dorm."
"I've checked her dorm, Moony," Sirius resists the urge to sneer at the man, "I'm not stupid, thank you very much."
Remus doesn't appreciate Sirius's tone, no matter how restrained it is from what it could have been. He mutters something disdainful when he turns his attention back to his studies, seriously doubting Sirius's assertion of his own intelligence.
Sirius chooses to ignore it in favor of snapping at the map, the trigger words lighting it up in a coffee-brown display of home. His eyes flit to your dormitory first, finding it, of course, empty. Then the library, also devoid of your presence. The grounds show similarly none of you, and it's James who spots your name in their own bedroom, nose scrunching and raising his glasses as he points at the banner.
"Prongs, she's not- wait," Sirius huffs, shooting a glance at the corner of his room where you're supposedly lurking, "She hasn't borrowed your cloak, has she?"
"No, it's in my trunk," James shakes his head, studying the empty space of Sirius's bed and puzzling how you could be there and nowhere all at once, "Moony, is there an invisibility potion?"
"Not one that would last her since we've been here," He doesn't bother turning from his work, "We would have seen her by now."
"Well she can't just be there," Sirius scoffs, studying and re-studying the map like it'll admit to pranking him and showcase your real location in some hidden chamber, "Has anyone been in the closet today?"
"You think your girlfriend is hiding in the closet?" Remus verifies, once more not dignifying Sirius with a glance. It aggravates him, but he withholds from swatting Remus upside the head.
"Well, Moony, she can't have just disappeared, can she? She's gotta be in here somewhere, or else this map is shoddy. And I made it myself, so..." Sirius clenches the parchment in his fingers, grip too-tight and bruising it like skin. His eyes catch an old, out-of-use beater's bat that's protruding from the end of his bed and his words catch in his throat, silencing what would have been a very boastful statement about his magical craftsmanship.
"Hang on," He shoves the map at James, who smooths out its wrinkles with a grimace. Sirius darts for the end of his bed, reaching a tentative hand beneath it until his fingers meet soft fur and the blood rush of a beating heart.
"Gotcha," Sirius hums, peering beneath the space and, though his eyes have to strain in the little light offered by the rest of the room, he discerns that you've managed to wriggle your way into an old jumper of his; likely why you haven't heard their bickering.
"C'mere, darling," He croons, flat on his stomach as he gently pulls you out of the space. Your head comes uncovered and you wake with a start, but he's got a firm enough grip on your furry belly that you can't wriggle away from him.
"You gave me quite a scare," Sirius's tone should be admonishing like his words, but it's light and airy with mirth, "And a lot of exercise, darling. I was running up and down the grounds looking for you."
You knock your face against his in a love-warm apology, the fur lining your features ticklish to his slightly sweaty skin. He feels the stress of the hunt melt off of his muscles as he plants himself permanently on the floor, letting you curl yourself up again, this time against his face.
He should pick you up and move to his bed. He should give his sore body some reprieve on the mattress, but you look so perfectly coiled on the floor that moving you would be a sin. So he gets as comfortable as possible with his bony arm beneath his head, and lets your purrs pulse through his body and lull him into the same sleep that comes so easily to you in this feline form.
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sacharinee · 11 months
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pairing: bestfriend!peter parker x fem!reader
sypnosis: after peter misses his chance to ask you out to the homecoming dance, he has to suffer the consequences of his own actions
wc: 1200+
a/n: hiii!! i have the urge to write again bc im bored and i dont wanna do my summer course work. this prompt is based on this post and loosely based on that one scene in the movie ladybird when she gets picked up by her date. i wrote this super quickly so not the best but i hope u enjoy :)
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peter had it first. he had the idea, the flowers, the poster, your favorite chocolate strawberries all ready for you. until brad davis came in and stole everything. 
now he has nothing. he’s on your bed munching on the melty strawberries as he watches you get ready for the dance; you’ve asked for his help in choosing which dress you should go for. 
“okay how ‘bout this one, pete?” the boy glances up at you, mid-chew with his mouth open. 
his eyes snake over the outfit you’ve chosen. you do a swift twirl to show off the pretty soft blue satin dress that falls down to your mid-thigh with an open back. the skirt of your dress rides a bit high revealing a little too much. peter gulps, running his hands down his legs, immediately your sweet honey perfume floods his senses, his brain feels a little fuzzy, and he thinks the room gets smaller while his pants get a tiny bit tighter.
however, your eyes are what he takes in the most. you look eager, nervous about his approval, and hopeful for his admission.
his eyes widen as he gives you a soft nod and a pursed smile, “super pretty.”
you stare back at peter, his hair is flared, and you see chocolate smeared on his bottom lip. his posture looks defeated and you can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with him.
you give him a sour yet confused face, “why is your face like that?”
peter’s eyebrows furrow at your expression, “my face- why is my face like what?” 
“like…” you take a moment to think, “like- you look like that chef in that one movie with the rat, he’s got that same awkward funny looking face.”
peter barks out a laugh in disbelief, “alfredo linguini?? from ratatouille?!” “yea! that guy.” 
the boy in front of you offers you a pout and rubs his eyes, “thanks.”
“sure thing.” peter glazes over your seamless makeup when you take a seat next to him, “so, you’re really not coming? why not? it’ll be fun, plus all of our friends are going” you whine. 
peter kicks himself every day since you got asked out to homecoming by brad. he knows he should have made his proposal to you sooner, but now that he missed his chance, he feels like he’s lost you. 
“oh, so brad’s our friend now? and nah, it’s alright. i’m just gonna go patrolling tonight, might get some good action.” his eyebrows suggestively 
 you muster up a smirk and breathe out a laugh, “right. maybe you’ll find your own ‘cupid of crime’ that’ll show you a good time.” 
peter groans at you, “oh my god, margot robbie is so-”
honk!
“oh,” your ears perk up at the sudden interruption, “i guess that’s my date.” you quickly stand up and straighten your dress, taking nervous breaths. 
“i’m good right? my dress? face? hair?” your fingers run through your shiny locks, “its- i’m, i’m okay?”
peter has an indiscernible look plastered on his face as he gazes out the window and back at you. he’s shocked you’d settle for this, and even more appalled at you’re excitement to go with a douchebag who can’t even meet you at the front door. he knows you deserve better than this, and he knows he would treat you so much better with much less than your date. his stomach turns upside down and he feels his face get hot, breathing through his nostrils as he struggles to control his disbelief. he slowly stands up and meets your anxious expression peering up at him.
“you aren’t gonna get in a car with a guy who honks, are you?” 
it’s almost as if the entire atmosphere shifts. peter studies your appearance. your face shimmered sanguinely regardless, brighter than the glitter that sparkled atop your eyelids.
it was safe to say you were excited to go to the dance, even if your date wasn’t your first choice. you had been waiting endlessly for peter to ask you to homecoming. you were almost depressed at the thought thinking your crush didn’t like you back, but even more upset at the fact that your best friend didn’t even want to take you as his date, romantically or not. 
you remembered the feeling of delight swirling through your body as betty gushed about ned asking her to the dance, and mj agreeing to harry’s proposal. 
you only wanted the same for yourself. the same thrill and warm feeling of someone wanting to take you as their date. you wanted more than anything for it to be peter, but you figured he simply didn’t think of you like that as empty time and hopeless anticipation went by. so yes, you did settle for brad davis. he’s only ever been sweet to you, with harmless flirting and sultry smiles in the halls. plus you had a hunch about peter’s displeasing stance on the man, and presumed this may have tipped peter over just the right amount. 
you simply blink at his desperate eyes and nod, your adamant expression not wavering, “i think, yes, i am.”
you offer him a wistful smile when you brush past him, grabbing your purse on the way.
“y/n, stop.” peter’s finger’s wrap around your small wrist, your charm bracelet dangling against his hand.
“are you serious? what, the shithead can’t walk a few feet and knock on the door like a real man?”
“peter!” you snatch your wrist back and his hands rise.
you feel heat rushing up your neck and settling behind your ears. you had wanted a reaction out of peter when brad asked you out, yes, but the entitlement he has to mention about the manhood of brad angered you.
“i’m just saying,” he steps back from you, licking his dry lips while he chuckles back at you. “a guy who doesn’t have the balls to greet you at your doorstep isn’t worth falling for.” 
you scoff at him, he was so sweet and now he’s only taking his anger out on you. “well it’s a good thing that he’s just a friend then. what’s it to you anyways?”
peter disregards your last statement, “a friend?! y/n/n, listen to me. you’re being naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.”
another honk outside pierces your ears, yet you can’t seem to shake your stare on the boy before you. you narrow your eyes at him.
“you sound jealous.”
peter sputters nonsense out and breaks his eyesight away from you, nervously running his hands through his curls.
“jealous? me? pfft. never. i’m not jealous, i’m- i’m being absolutely reasonable.”
you keep your eyes on him as he looks down at the carpet floor. he sighs and drops down at your chair, scratching the wood on your desk. his head shakes and ever so softly murmurs, “seriously, why are you going out with him?”
peter continues to stare at the rotten wood he’s chipping, “brad asked me to be his date, so i’m going whether you like it or not. unless,” peter glances back up at you.
“there’s something you’re not telling me.”
hope bubbles down in your stomach, and you anticipate his confession, waiting to hear the words of his true feelings that you know for certain are deep down inside him.
except, he doesn’t.
the boy only blankly stares at your desk, clenching his jaw, and drowns everything inside, letting you down yet another time. you turn away, disappointed in peter, ready to leave him alone for all the false hope and hurt he has caused you. 
“right, well, when your balls finally drop, let me know. i’ll be at the dance with my date.” 
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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hi! first and foremost all of ur writing is GODSENT I’m hooked‼️ secondly, i saw ur requests were open and was wanting to see if you could write a neteyam smut where the reader is in heat and is completely insatiable so it leads to some thigh riding and it just isn’t making the cut so he just sits you on his face? and I love ur characterization so with lots of dialogue and him talking you through it pretty please🙏🏽 thank you for gifting us constantly !!
The heat that spreads
adult Neteyam x female avatar reader
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Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, thigh riding, oral, face sitting, praise kink, heat cycle
Words: 1.9k
Notes: thank you so much for your kind words they mean the world to me!! 😭🫶🏻 I had so much fun writing this skfjdks
Being a Na’vi had it’s perks.
The newly unlocked strength, heightened senses of smell, inhuman hearing and the agility of your avatar body— it was incredible! But there were still some things you had to get used to. One of these things being the monthly heat cycle every female Na’vi goes through, once their bodies are fully developed. It’s a blessing and a curse. You still haven’t figured out when exactly it happens, you just know that it’s not regular and therefore usually comes as a surprise. But you and your mate are trying to make the best out of it.
Right now, you’re sitting on Neteyam thigh, helping him braid his hair, when it suddenly hits you. It starts with a strange yet familiar feeling in your stomach, a warmth that spreads from your lower abdomen right into your lap. It tingles. Makes your head feel dizzy and clouded. You can feel your pupils dilate, senses on high alert as you inhale your mates scent. Neteyam smells like rain, fresh cut grass and tree bark. "What’s wrong?", he tilts his head, some of his braids lazily fall over his shoulder and you swallow thickly. He caresses your cheek with his big hand, thumb gently brushing over your bottom lip. "'Teyam", it comes out as a whine and you blush, "I- I think I‘m starting my…" Neteyams eyes widen. Has it been a month already? He thinks back to the last time with a smug grin on his face, when the two of you couldn’t leave the nest for nearly three days.
You try to clench your thighs together for some friction but it’s impossible with Neteyams leg inbetween them. You curse the position your in, but then he shifts under you, the muscle of his thigh brushes against your clit and you gasp.
You don’t even mean to, but your body has a mind of its own and you slowly start grinding yourself against his thigh. "Please", you beg for his touch, "C-Can we, uhm…" Your eyes point to the weaved sleeping matt, that you two share, across the marui pod. A contented purr of your name rumbles in his chest, your toes curling into the soles of your feet as your name drips from his tongue like warm honey. "Keep doing that", he chuckles and guides your hips to keep moving, "We‘ll get to mating soon, my sweet girl. Now I just want to help you get to your release. The first of many." His words aren’t just promises, they’re vows. He enjoys the days of your heat more than anything, willing to bend you in every possible position until you’re finally satisfied. His stamina seemingly increased during these times, thanks to a certain hormone only the female’s mate could smell.
You whimper softly, the tips of your ears burning with an intense heat as you stare up at your mate through lidded eyes. Neteyams words sent your heart a flutter, stomach bunching into a tight knot as your nerves tingle like a live wire.
You felt small sitting on his thigh, dwarfed by his much larger stature as you struggle to stay seated. You can feel the heat pooling rapidly in the pit of your stomach, heart beating hard against your ribs and pounding loudly in your ears as your breaths come out in short, rough pants. Your pussy clenches around nothing and it almost drives you insane. It hurts.
You experiment with different paces and pressures, trying to figure out the best way to get yourself off. It doesn’t take very long to find out what works best for you.
"You're dripping all over my thigh,” Neteyam notes amused. He’s mesmerized by the sight of you using him for your own pleasure.
You take a deep, shuddering breath, tongue darting over your dry lips as you swallow around the lump in your throat.
"'Teyam," you wail, voice turning into a whine laced with tiny hiccups. "It’s, fuck, it’s not enough… It hurts, I want to– need to cum so bad."
"I know, little one. You're doing so well for me", he praises, with his fingers digging into your hips he helps you move faster and cause more and more friction. Neteyam then tenses the muscles of his thigh, which completely changes the feeling. It’s so much harder now, the friction a lot more satisfying. "Better?"
You nod frantically, incapable of forming a coherent response.
Every rock of your hips is bringing you a jolt of pleasure. It feels so euphoric that you find yourself never wanting it to end. Everything‘s being stimulated with each buck of your hips and small shivers shot up your spine every time you brush your clit against his muscles.
You were growing wetter by the second, so much so that a wet patch was beginning to form on his skin. Which was making it easier and even more pleasurable for you to glide yourself up and down his thigh. When you brush your clit once more, you really couldn’t help the loud moan that left your lips.
"You’re close already, aren’t you? My sweet girl is going to cum just from grinding herself on my thigh", Neteyam chuckles teasingly and his intense eye contact is too much for you. You shy away from him but his free hand reaches for your face, thumb and forefinger digging into your jaw as he tilts your chin up. "No, you keep looking at me with those pretty eyes or I’ll stop." You can feel his hot breath against your skin, every hair on the nape of your neck standing up at his close proximity. "D-Don’t stop, please! Please I’m so– so close Neteyam!" Your breathing wavered, hot, burning coil in your stomach threatening to snap as you tremble. He‘s in complete control of your movements, strong hands digging at your hip so hard, you know it’s going to bruise tomorrow. He moves your body along to the rhythm that you desire. Your face twists with pleasure as you moan with complete abandon, his name like a prayer on your lips as your wet pussy slides across his thigh. Neteyam hums, voice deep and thick as he speaks to you in a hushed whisper. "It’s okay, little one. You can cum, let go for me."
You don’t hesitate to obey his command, the coil in your stomach shattering into a million pieces as your orgasm violently courses through you. Your body trembles and you scream your mates name with pure bliss, clinging to him like your life depends on it. Your movements falter, fingers numb as you hold tight onto his shoulders and what little sanity you had left. Neteyam forces you to ride out the waves of your pleasure high, pressing his leg hard against your clit until you beg for him to stop, crying that’s it’s too much but not enough at the same time. If he keeps that rhythm up, you’re sure you would immediately cum again.
Your legs are shaking and you pitch forward, burying your head against his board chest and seeking the warmth of his skin. His sturdy grip on you slowly eases, fingers gently threading through your braided hair and his other hand caressing your back to soothe the erratic beating of your heart. You hum with content as you press your ear against his chest, listening to his thundering heartbeat as you try to regain control of your breathing.
"How do you feel, my love?", he kisses the top of your head.
It doesn’t take long for the familiar heat to return to your core, spreading like a wild fire and you hide your blushing face in his chest. "Wasn’t enough", you mumble and it’s barely above a whisper. "Hm, I thought so", Neteyam grins, "my desperate little mate." You don’t even know what’s happening at first, as he maneuvers you into a new position. When your eyes fly open, you find your mate almost flat on the ground, laying right below you and with his head resting between your thighs. Your eyes widen when he playfully bites down onto the soft flesh of your thigh, careful not to actually hurt you with his canine. His hot breathe fans over the wet skin of your cunt and you shiver. "Neteyam, what are you–" He leans forward to place a sudden kiss right on your clit and you choke on your words. "Sit down", he demands and his words alone make you weak in the knees. One of his hands cups your ass and the other one your hip, with his three long fingers digging into your skin he supports you, pulls you down closer to where he licks his lips, ready to consume his favorite meal. You do as you’re told, carefully lowering yourself to sit on his face and immediately, his tongue darts out to lick a stripe from your dripping entrance to your clit.
He moans at your taste, at the way you fist your hands in his hair to anchor him so you can rut against his face. Against his nose and those puffy lips, so roughly that you can feel his head moving with the force of your hips. And yet he’s moaning uncontrollably, gasping and groaning your name and between slurps and sucks.
He’s a voracious pussy eater. Tireless, hungry, eager to please, but most of all responsive even though he’s nearly smothered under your weight as you ride his face.
"Holy shit— oh, fuck, 'Teyam you’re gonna make me cum again!"
His mouth and his tongue work overtime, swirling around your clit. Suckling on your lips. Sticking his tongue as far into you as he possibly can, ignoring his aching jaw to lick up every little drop of your delicious juices. Smothering himself and shortening his breath from stuffing his nose into your mound to reach as far into you as he can. And then– then, Neteyam does the one thing that he knows you absolutely love.
Taking a hand off your hip, he slips two of his fingers into your soaking wet cunt and curls them just right. Pairing powerful strokes of his hand with long sucks of his mouth, he coaxes you over the edge with such familiarity and such confidence that it takes your breath away. Literally.
"Neteyam!” You gasp, hands fisting in his hair and pulling as your thighs snap tight around his head. Your orgasm almost takes you out, it makes you shake like the leaves of a tree in a storm, your muscles jumping and spasming and making you twitch uncontrollably until it plateaus into complete, white-out inducing bliss. His fingers keep pumping in and out of you through the clamping of your walls, stretching out your orgasm until you’re slumping down ever so slowly, your body slowly going limp from the incredible pleasure.
With a gentle tap to your thigh, you untangle yourself from your mate, lifting your hips from his face. He’s glistening with your slickness and it makes you flustered. When he sits up, your eyes immediately fall on the outline of his hard and painfully neglected cock under his loincloth. It makes you swallow almost hungrily.
He grins at you, palming himself over the thin cloth as he repositions himself once again. With a hand flat on your chest he gently lays you down and then sits on his heels, right between your thighs. "Satisfied yet?", he tilts his head and licks his lips clean. You shake your head no and he chuckles. "What do you want? Talk to me, my sweet girl and I’ll do whatever you want."
"More. Please, I want… more."
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jarofstyles · 1 month
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Buttercream
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Hello my loves! This is the first part to our Patreon exclusive series, Buttercream. The ready is available on Patreon (over 18 parts) and is still being updated. You all asked to see what’s available to read and I’m giving you sneaks of it!
A series featuring an Alpha Architect Harry, a bossy bakery owning omega Y/N, the sweetest treats taste tested and some steamy smut.
Check out our Patreon for all parts of the series and 150+ exclusive writings.
——-
The smell kept him coming back.
In his life, Harry had been to a quite a few bakeries. He could be considered an expert on fudge brownies, a specialist on cupcakes and the swirls of icing, a connoisseur of croissants. He treated himself a bit too often, if his mother had anything to say with it. His sweet tooth had always been prevalent in his life.
The new bakery down the road from his job, though? That had made him a true problem.
Every day before work, he stopped. Suit and all, pulling into the parking lot and nearly drooling the moment he got out. His feet carried him towards the door and the smell hit him immediately. Sweet buttercream, frothy vanilla, spiced cinnamon, and… something else. That something else that had him nearly vibrating, and now on a mission to have the whole menu to figure out just what the hell that scent was.
It was intoxicating. Mesmerizing. If Harry didn’t have work, he would spend hours just sitting here to smell it. It had a weird hold on him, and he didn’t quite know how to ask if it was an air freshener. That was unlikely for anywhere but restrooms anyways considering how offensive it could be for the noses of alpha’s and omegas alike. A bad scented one could send them into moods. Or even sickness. The sense of smell was very important.
“Mr.Styles.” The teen manning the cash register saluted him. He came in every day and was known to the cashiers, so he had ruled out it being one of them. Thank god. They were either young enough to not have a scent or too old for it to be possible. “What will it be today? Y/N’s been whipping up a storm for the holidays. New recipes. We’ve got a peppermint bark brownie that would go well with the peppermint mocha you like.” She chirped, watching as he scanned the cases.
Harry was a little intimidating but he was exceptionally charming. He smiled, he conversed, he tipped well, but he always seemed to be looking around. Trying to find something that no one could really place. The bakery was empty besides a mum and her friend with their kids, munching on treats and coffee as they watched the traffic go by. It wasn’t them. Harry’s ears did perk up when he heard an unfamiliar name.
“Y/N?” He asked, tilting his head as his attention went back to the cashier. “Who’s that? The owner?” Harry had never met the owner. For some reason, every time he came in the morning she had stepped out for her own break. It didn’t bother him so long as his compliments to the baker got passed along, but hearing her name stirred something in his chest.
“Yep.” She popped the p in her word. “She’s awesome. She started this all on her own after she went viral on the internet. She got the funds from online orders. You see the custom cakes and stuff but she does awesome experimental flavors. She doesn’t care if they’re hits or misses and let’s us go home with leftovers.” There was obvious pride to be working for someone like Y/N. It peaked his interest.
“Oh?” He asked, leaning his body against the counter. “That’s incredible. I’d be very happy to taste some of the new things.” He flashed a smile, tapping his card against the wood of the counter. “What would you think Y/N would suggest?” And why did saying her name make him feel silky and hot? Like it was meant to live on his lips? They tingled as the word left his mouth, making him shift his stance slightly. His skin was buzzing slightly as he heard someone else come from the back.
“She would suggest the peppermint bark brownies, the s’mores donut, the lemon cream cookie and the chili chocolate cupcake. Spice and sweet work surprisingly well together.” The airy voice went to his bones.
Harry could smell it fully now. The scent that laced the bakery was now engulfing him. Filling the space, making him inhale it with each breath. His hand tightened on the card, curling into a fist at his side as he caught a glimpse of her. She had been the source. It wasn’t a baked good or a cashier, but it was the baker herself that was making him addicted to the sweets laced with her scent.
He was silent as he observed her, a smile quirked on her lips. Slightly glossy and deliciously plump as she greeted the cashier with a simple hey and asking her to go to the back to grab the other new tray of cinnamon buns. Sliding them on to the rack, she used her hip to gently nudge the counter open and grabbed one for Harry.
“Here. On the house.” She slid the bag over to him with her soft simper, hands tapping on the wood.
She was marvelous.
Harry was speechless. Something he never usually was- the alpha could talk to a brick wall if he needed to- but this sweet little omega has been slowly hypnotizing him with her scent over the course of a month and now he was finally seeing her. He loved delayed gratification, a fan of edging, but this? He wished he had seen her far earlier.
“Hi.” He peeped. His face looked like he saw a ghost. The woman in front of him was like a mirage- and he wasn’t trying to be dramatic. He swore she was familiar to him in some way. Some how. She was all omega in the ways that called to him. The curve of her face and her soft voice… he could have started purring if he didn’t have some semblance of self control in his body.
“Hi.” She returned the greeting with a soft chuckle that heated his chest. “I hope you like the suggestions. I recognized your voice. You’ve been in here every morning we’re open and I figured it was about time to meet the loyal customer.” She chirped, brushing the stray hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ears. The adorably disheveled look added to her appeal.
A candy apple red apron was dusted with various baking material, tied around her waist snug. It showed the curve of her waist went deeper than what he could tell under her sweatshirt that appeared to have the bakery name printed on it. A swipe of flour was decorating her forehead, like she had wiped hair from her face and simply forgot about flour coated hands. Little details he was memorizing to think about later.
“I love the smell.” He blurted out. Immediately, he winced. That hadn’t been what he had meant to say, at least how he had meant to say it. Heat crept up further under his cheeks as he opened and closed his mouth, watching her giggle a bit as he tried to find his bearings.
“Fucking hell- I meant to say, I love your bakery. It smelled amazing when I went past it so I decided to stop in a few weeks ago and now it’s become a part of my daily routine. I bring in pastries for the office.”
“Aren’t you a star coworker.” She cooed, turning from him with a wink as she grabbed one of the red boxes and began to construct it. “They must love you at the office. I have on good authority that the one that brings the snacks, gets the pats on the back. Especially hand made, beautifully crafted baked goods.” She teased, opening up the case and beginning to place some sweets into it.
“I’d hope they like me. I’m their boss.” He laughed quietly, scratching the back of his neck. Never has he felt more like a schoolboy talking to a playground crush. He was head to toe in a suit good enough to meet his best clients, and a girl with flour on her face was sending him to his knees. Each time she moved, a gentle waft of her scent was given his direction and made that ever loved self control hang by a thread.
“Ooooo. Bossman.” She grinned, wiggling her brow as she placed another iced brownie with crushed peppermint bark sprinkled on top into the box. “Should have guessed. Love the suit, by the way. You look very handsome.”
That little compliment made his day. The pretty omega with the prettier smile and mouthwatering scent thought he looked handsome. That would be lingering in his brain all day. How she thought he was handsome. The casual compliments.
“Thank you.” He preened. “We do interior and exterior design for businesses. Up and coming places and remodels. So if you ever need a guy- I’m here.” He placed his hands in his pockets and lifted up on his toes rocking back and forth.
“Oooo. Is it that bad in here? Do I need a renovation?” She sucked her teeth, tilting her head. It had him freezing, mouth falling open to grovel. He hadn’t meant to offend her at all, hadn’t tried to insinuate it needed a remodel.
“Shit- no, I’m sorry. It’s very cute in here, I didn’t mean to insinuate it needed any help. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how it would sound-“
“Cool it, bossman.” She cooed, laughing at how he had nearly fallen over himself. “I’m just messing with you. The place does need some exterior work, actually. I hadn’t had the budget when we first started, nor the time. But I didn’t take any offense to it. You’ve got to market yourself. Don’t worry.” Her reassurance made him melt into relief, leaning into the counter. This whole encounter had him feeling a bit on edge in the weirdest way. He wanted to snuggle this woman, yet he was almost afraid of her. An omega. He was afraid of an omega.
Anyone else would laugh at him, perhaps, but he felt the nervousness creeping in his bones. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to think he was cool and want to know him better. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. She had unarmed his normal charm and made him feel like a nervous bundle of sweat and it was exhilarating.
“I’ll take a card, though.” She placed her hand out flat. “If you’ve got one. I’m gonna check out your website.”
Harry fished one out of his wallet, thankful he kept them on hand. It had his office number, and part of him wanted to offer his personal cell but he knew that would be a bit weird. Especially if she wanted to use his services. He almost hoped she didn’t- asking a client on a date wasn’t good for the image, was it? He wasn’t sure.
“If you’ve got any questions you can reach out on the email there, it’s a direct line to me- or uh, I come in every day so.” He shrugged. “Around this time. You’ve got very good coffee too. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good hazelnut. People put a lot of syrups and things… but your shop does it the best.”
“Thank you.” She seemed chuffed with his praise. “I taste test everything with the crew here. You’ll be in for a treat. If you’re coming in every morning, do you think you’d want to be a bit of a guinea pig for me?” She slid the box across the counter. “I’ve been experimenting like my lovely employee was saying. But I’d love a real customers opinion. Even if it’s bad. I want to know what the consumer likes.”
Harry was shocked. Y/N was kind of treating him like a friend, like she valued his exact opinion. He couldn’t deny he felt exceptionally special. Having not only the owner of the bakery but an omega he had some sort of crush on suddenly want to sample the new things she sells and get his opinion on it.
“Oh- uh. Alright. Of course! I can do that.” He grinned shyly, handing his card over for her to pay for the things she had put into the box. “I come in every morning during the week so… you can just let me know what’s new to taste.” There was a giddiness in his stomach. An excuse to talk to her every day. Or at least a few times a week. He’s never really reacted this way to an omega before, the scent craving, the shyness he suddenly felt, all of it was so new to him and he was unsure how to navigate it but he didn’t want to stop. He only wanted more.
“Perfect. What is your name, by the way?” The card was handed back to him and there was slight disappointment their fingers didn’t brush, but Harry took today was a victory.
“Harry. Harry Styles. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Y/N. I’m glad to meet you too. I hope to see more of you soon.”
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babydollmarauders · 1 year
Text
CLUMSY — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: quinn and luke realize how clumsy y/n is after noticing how often jack unconsciously keeps her from harm
notes: y/n is written sensitive and clumsy! also, i wrote this on saturday to have something to post this week while i’m unable to write <3
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i’ve met my boyfriends family on numerous occasions since we started dating in october. mostly through quick trips such as Quinn coming into town for a game against the Devils and whatnot, but this is my first time spending an elongated amount of time with them and i have this irrational fear that they’ll dislike me.
Jack has assured me multiple times since we’ve arrived at the lake house for the summer that i have no reason to worry, but it’s been four days and i still feel like they’re forming their opinions on me. so, i’ve taken it upon myself to do whatever i can in order to get them to like me; including my current task of baking cookies.
“you know they already love you, right?” Jack asks, standing at the counter beside me, observing as i mix the dry ingredients into a bowl. “you don’t need to bake them cookies.”
“are you saying you don’t want my sea salt chocolate chip cookies?” i keep focused on the task at hand, my sight never leaving the measuring cup as i scoop the flour into the bowl.
“now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” a hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he maneuvers himself behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist as he clings himself to me, his cheek resting pressed against my shoulder blade. “i definitely want your cookies. i’m just saying that my brothers don’t need them.”
i giggle as his fingers tickle at the bits of my sides where my shirt has risen, arching my back to try and escape his hands. Jack groans as i break free from his grip, but i assume it’s mostly due to his brothers entering the kitchen.
“ooh, what are you making?” Luke wonders, coming to a stop on the opposite side of the counter.
“cookies!” i grin, finally looking up as i finish the dry ingredients.
“yum.” Quinn chimes in, sidling into the spot beside Luke. he peers into the bowl and his brows furrow slightly. “y/n, that’s just powder?”
i bark out a laugh at the clueless boy.
“Quinny, you have to mix the dry ingredients first. then the wet ingredients such as eggs, butter and vanilla. and then you mix them both together to form the dough.” i explain. i scan the countertop, making sure i have each item needed for the next step. “i need another bowl.”
i bend down, opening the lower cupboard and reaching for the metal mixing bowl inside.
“Trevor texted me this morning.” i hear Jack inform the boys.
“yeah? when’s he coming up?” Quinn asks.
“in two weeks. but Alex is getting here tomorrow.” Jack says. i shut the cupboard door, stretching my legs to rise back up from my position. my head bumps Jack’s hand, wrapped around the lip of the counter above where i was bent.
my left hand rubs the top of the back of my head super quick as i set the mixing bowl on the counter. i glance back up as Luke and Quinn share an amused look and my face scrunches in confusion.
what did i miss?
**
Jack’s left arm rests on my shoulders, my face half buried into his chest as he scrolls on his phone. Quinn and Luke sit in armchairs on opposite sides of the couch as Alex sits on the opposite side of Jack. a movie plays on the tv, but i’m momentarily distracted by Ellen walking past the back of the couch, calling out a goodnight.
“goodnight El!” i call back as she makes her way to the stairs, the boys all muttering their own goodnight’s.
“brunch tomorrow, while the boys golf?” she asks, confirming our plans. i nod and she grins, blowing a kiss towards the group of us as she finally walks up the stairs.
“you guys are going to brunch tomorrow? without us?!” Luke asks, his hand coming up to his chest in mock offense.
“you guys are going golfing tomorrow, without us! it’s only fair.” i laugh and Alex chuckles.
“y/n/n, you don’t even like golf. you said it’s boring and called it ‘watered down hockey’.” Alex points out as i burrow back into Jack’s side.
“shh, i’m watching the movie.” i shush him, making the boys laugh. Jack turns back to his phone and i watch through one peeked open eye as he double taps on his teammate’s most recent instagram post before typing out some nonsense comment that i’ll never understand.
pulling back, i lock my eyes on the remote on the coffee table. sliding forward some, i lean, stretching my fingertips out to try and grab it. finally getting ahold of it, i go to lean back, wobbling forward and accepting my fate. i brace myself to fall before feeling a hand grab onto the back of my shirt. yanking me back, Jack pulls me back into his side, his eyes still glued to his phone. i heave out a small relieved sigh as i press a kiss to his chest before turning the volume up on the tv.
i glance around the living room to the other boys, gauging how interested they are in the movie, but Luke and Quinn are exchanging a look. Luke biting back a smile as Quinn smirks.
what did i miss this time?
**
with the boys friends all finally arriving, the lake house has become much too crowded to hang out inside. so instead we’re all outside, gathered around a fire that was once blazing but now dwindling. my boyfriend jokes around with Cole and Trevor, Luke speaking with his University of Michigan teammates, Ethan and Dylan, and lastly Quinn sits sipping a beer as he chats with Alex and the Tkachuk’s.
making myself scarce in order to not cling to my boyfriends side as he tries to enjoy himself, i text with my own friends from back in New Jersey as i balance on the edge of the brick fire pit, circling it as i type.
“be careful, babe.” Jack warns me, and i grin and throw him a thumbs up. he barely gives me a second glance before Trevor takes up his attention, reciting a story of something that happened to he and his friend Jamie back in California.
i continue pacing around on the elevated bricks, typing a long winded message to Leah, explaining why she shouldn’t call her ex. as i pass by my boyfriend once more, i’m not paying as close attention as i probably should be, my foot getting a little too close to the inner edge as i start to slip.
a hand grips my elbow, pulling me back to a standing position before i can fall into the fire and i look over to see Jack, his attention still on Trevor and his hand wrapped around my arm as he nods his head at his friend while he continues ranting. i give a light pat to Jack’s shoulder to let him know i’m fine and he releases his grip.
slipping my phone into my pocket, i continue my journey around the fire pit again, this time with more of my focus going into keeping upright. passing Luke, i see him looking away from his friends, and i follow his line of sight to his brother, Quinn looking right back at him. both wear an entertained appearance and i look around to see if i can find what they’re smiling about but come up empty-handed.
why do i keep missing these things?
**
with today being one of the hottest days of the summer, we’re all crowded on the boat. most of the group lounges around conversing with one another, Luke currently taking his turn wakesurfing as music blares from Quinn’s bluetooth speaker.
i’m sat in Jack’s lap, rubbing my third layer of sunscreen on my legs and the tops of my feet.
“babe, i think you’ve got enough.” Jack laughs, his hands grip my waist to keep me from falling as i’m leaned forward.
“i just wanna make sure. the UV index is super high today and you know how easily i burn.” i tell him, sitting back upright as i flip the cap of the sunscreen closed once more.
“i know, sugar. but we’ve only been out here for two hours and that’s your third time applying it. i think you’re okay for a while.” he takes the lotion from my hands, handing the bottle over to Cole. “put that in the bag next to you, eh?”
Cole nods, placing the sunscreen into the waterproof zip up bag i brought on the boat.
“y/n/n! c’mere!” Luke shouts, making me untangle myself from Jack. i rise to my feet, shuffling over to the back of the boat and leaning over to get closer in order to hear him better.
“you gonna let her get that close to the edge, Rowdy?” Quinn questions, making the boys laugh.
“what?” Jack asks. “what do you mean?”
“she’s a bit clumsy, is she not? we’ve noticed you all summer, keeping her from hurting herself.” Quinn replies through chuckles. even Alex, who drives the boat barks out a laugh.
“wait, when did i do that?” Jack wonders.
“all the time! you weren’t even paying attention when you did it!” Luke shouts and i stick my tongue out at him before turning to observe the boys.
“there was the first time Luke and i noticed it, when you wrapped your hand over the counter to make sure she didn’t hit her head. and you were right to do so because she bumped it right on your hand.” Quinn explains.
“or when she was reaching off the couch to grab the remote and you caught her by her shirt to keep her from falling. and you didn’t even look up from your phone as you did it!” Luke says as he climbs back on the boat.
“or how about when she was balancing on the fire pit and you caught her by the arm to keep her from falling straight into the fire. while you kept all your attention on Trevor. didn’t even look, you just reached a hand out and grabbed her.” Quinn provides another example. “i can go on.”
“i didn’t even realize i was doing all that.” Jack shrugs, glancing towards me. “i guess it’s just unconscious reaction. i’ve gotten used to it by now.”
“i’m not clumsy.” i pout, crossing my arms over my chest.
“it’s okay, it’s not necessarily a bad thing!” Trevor attempts to comfort me. i give him a side-eye, making my way over to Jack. but before i can sit in his lap, i slip. Jack’s arms wrap around my waist to keep me from dropping to the floor, pulling me down onto his thighs instead.
“you are pretty clumsy, babe.” one of Jack’s arms stays planted across my waist, holding me to him as his index finger pushes my chin up so i’m looking up at him. “but, it’s adorable.”
i bury my face in his chest out of embarrassment. i didn’t think i was clumsy. i mean, i know i’ve always been a bit accident prone; broken glasses, falling a bit more than my friends. but i didn’t think i was clumsy.
“it’s nothing to be ashamed of, y/n.” Quinn tells me. Jack’s hand trails up and down my back as he whispers reassurances in my ear.
“yeah, we didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything.” Luke pipes up once more, his voice seeping with regret.
“that’s why you kept looking at each other all the time.” my words are muffled by Jack’s chest, but by the way that Jack coos as he places a kiss on the top of my head, i know they heard them. “you were laughing at me.”
“we weren’t. i swear we weren’t.” Quinn’s voice is closer now, and i feel another hand touch my back. “we were laughing with you. we just thought it was funny that Jack didn’t even notice when he was doing it.”
“honest?” i question.
“honest. i promise.” my head rises at Luke’s voice, closer now as well. his hand comes up to rest on my knee and i look over to see him squatted down beside Jack and i, Quinn sitting next to us.
“i didn’t realize i was clumsy.” i confess. “i just thought it was normal.”
“i gotta say, you’re definitely the first girlfriend i’ve ever had to pull away from falling into an actual fire.” Jack chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “but i wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“really?”
“really. i love you. clumsiness and all.” he tells me. his grip gets tighter around me and i crane my neck to crash my lips into his.
“ugh, gross!” Trevor exclaims. Jack pulls back, leaning his forehead against mine.
“shut up, Z.” he grins, pulling me into one more kiss. “now, you ready to learn how to wakesurf?”
“yeah, no. even before i knew i was considered clumsy, i knew i wasn’t going out there. i’ll fall straight on my face, Jacky. i mean seriously, i’m a clutz!”
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
Text
Sukuna comforting you after a breakup
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Pairing: Sukuna x reader
Word Count: 627
Notes: I don't know who needs to read this but somehow I needed to write it inspired by that edit I saw on Instagram a few days ago
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Imagine Sukuna laying his eyes on your puny figure sitting on the completely destroyed sidewalk while you cry your heart out in the middle of Shibuya.
“Why the hell are you sitting there crying like a baby?”
“Leave me alone”, you mutter into your hands.
He furrows his eyebrows, body drawing closer to you. Did those words really leave your mouth? Nobody ever dares to talk to him like that. Especially not when you're all alone out here with Gojo being sealed.
“Don’t you know who I am, stupid girl?”
“I don’t give a damn about who you are. Just leave”, you bark at him.
Why? Why on earth did it end like this? You really thought you could make it, that your relationship can be saved if you put the work in it, that you’ll be able to change yourself. But then this call came in, only minutes before you arrived in Shibuya.
“It’s over, (y/n).”
It’s over. How is it supposed to be over when it didn’t even start yet? How is it supposed to be over when your heart still aches for the tender touch of your love, for the smile that haunts you in your dreams, for this one person alone? A new wave of tears swells up your puffy eyes and takes your sight, body still numb in agony. This can’t be true. It shouldn’t have ended like this.
Your heart sinks through your shaky fingertips onto the floor, bleeds out when reality hits you like a wall.
But it definitely is over.
“You’re lucky I’m having a good day.”
His voice is suddenly next to you, forces your eyes to dart up. This is Yuji. No…Just one look into his blank eyes is enough for you to realize that Sukuna himself is sitting next to you, nipping on a coke as if he isn’t the king of curses.
You should be scared. Fuck, you should scream in horror and try to run away. But instead, you just stare at him blankly. Does it even matter what happens to you anymore?
“What is it?”
“What is what?”, you try to avoid his question.
Oh god, as if it isn’t bad enough that you’re sitting here like an idiot while crying your heart out.
“What is all of this about?”
You swallow hard. There is no way out of this, no chance to escape the piercing gaze of his. You will have to tell him the truth.
“I’ve got dumped today”, you mutter.
“Dumped”, he repeats dryly.
“Dumped.”
“And that’s what you’re crying about? Some random guy?”
“It wasn’t just a random guy”, you bite back in a desperate attempt to defend yourself.
No, more like the one you imagined your future with, the one you wanted to adopt a dog or cat with, the one who was supposed to stay. But now all of this is gone in the wind. Your past, your present, your future. Everything went black.
“You know what makes me so damn strong?”
What? You blink away your tears, confusion written on your face. What on earth is he talking about?
“Because you killed countless people, are older than dinosaurs…-“
“Because I never let a love story distract me from my own strength.”
“What are you talking about?”, you huff in response, shaking your head in sheer disbelief.
What is that supposed to mean? You’re not Ryomen Sukuna, you aren’t a special grade sorcerer, you are…A no one, not even able to keep your relationship up. Fuck, you should have worked on yourself like you've promised over and over, shouldn't have started fights over things that wouldn't have changed anyway. You...You are the problem.
“Shouldn’t you be strong on your own as well?”
You have to blink a few times, mind trying to process the meaning of his words. Sukuna throws away the empty cup of coke and gets up, casually straightening his clothes before yanking your chin upwards, forcing you to stare straight into his red eyes.
“You don’t need anyone. Now get your puny self up and stop giving other people that power over you. If I see you crying over that relationship again, I’ll kill you right on the spot. Got it?”
Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest, hands shaking by the sheer force of his words. Why does he have to be so damn right? Why…why do you suddenly feel better?
“Got it”, you breathe out, clenching your trembling fingers into a tight fist.
Yeah, you got it.
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dirtyvulture · 10 months
Text
Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader
18+ only read at your own risk
Summary: Natasha calls you to her office for a performance evaluation.
Word count: 1414
AN: I’ve had this idea forever, but it wasn’t until I got some military requests (which I kind of tried to incorporate) that I finally sat down to write this. Enjoy!
Reader has a penis. No pronouns used.
"I want to see you in my office after briefing, Sergeant,” your superior, Natasha Romanoff, says to you when you pass her in the hallway.
“Yes, ma’am.” You dip your head in respect, not pausing in your rapid pace to get to your next location. You don’t think anything of her request, feeling your performance in your new role has gone smoothly so far. But you also knew that Romanoff had very high standards, and was one of the few who had been against your promotion initially.
You attend your meeting without issue, getting up and almost heading to the chow hall with your comrades, when you remember you’re supposed to see Staff Sergeant Romanoff first. You make a quick U-turn and head back to her office, knocking forcefully and announcing yourself.
“Sergeant Romanoff? It’s Sergeant Y/N like you requested.”
“Come in and close the door.”
You heed her instruction, finding her lounging behind her desk. She’s not in her uniform, making you feel strangely out of place and like you shouldn’t be seeing her like this. Instead, she’s wearing the standard issued workout shirt, with her last name stamped across her left breast. 
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” you ask, standing at attention and staring at the wall behind her.
“At ease,” she says, and you shift your legs into a shoulder-wide stance, holding your hands behind your back. But you still don’t make eye contact with her. 
“So tell me, Sergeant, how is training with the new recruits going?” Natasha asks. 
“Very well,” you answer.
“You think so?” Natasha leans forward and taps her perfectly-manicured nails along the wood of her desk. 
“Uh,” you hesitate, not sure what her intentions are now. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.”
“Because that’s not what I heard from Captain Rogers.”
You press your lips into a flat line, trying to hide your grimace. Captain Steve Rogers had been your other long-time adversary, and the other person alongside Romanoff who had opposed your promotion. You still weren’t sure why he was so hostile with you, perhaps he was jealous of your skills, or the fact that Romanoff gave you much more of her attention than him.
“Captain Rogers said three of your recruits failed their most recent written exam,” Romanoff goes on.
“A lot of recruits fail the written exams,” you defend. “So, I’m personally working with them to make sure they pass their retake--”
“Your fail rate needs to be zero, Sergeant Y/N,” Romanoff says through her teeth.
“That’s not completely in my control, ma’am--”
“Are you making excuses for your poor display of leadership?” Romanoff snaps.
“I, no--that’s not it at all--” 
“Atten-SHUN!” she barks suddenly and you scramble to snap your arms to your sides and your legs together. “Half-right, face!” You barely have time to process her demand before she’s yelling out another one. You turn your feet at a 45-degree angle to the right, facing the corner of her office now. “Front leaning rest position. MOVE!” 
It’s almost humiliating to be asked of such a request at your rank, but you know better than to argue. You drop to the floor into a pushup position, keeping your back perfectly straight, your arms almost locked out to hold yourself up. 
“Down!” she commands, and you bend your elbows until your chest almost touches the floor. “Up!”
“One, Sergeant Romanoff!” you respond, pushing yourself back into the resting position.
“Down. Up!”
“Two, Sergeant Romanoff!”
She keeps you going at a steady pace and you hardly notice her get up from behind her desk and stand next to her, her shadow casting over your body. By the 30th pushup, you feel the slight burn in your chest and arms, but you know you have the stamina to go well into the hundreds without faltering. However, you also know that Romanoff is one of the most notoriously punishing staff sergeants, so you don’t want to get ahead of yourself.
“Down. Up!”
“Fifty, Sergeant Romanoff,” your voice cracks and you shake your head to not think much of it.
“Tired yet, Sergeant Y/N?” Romanoff asks, squatting down to your level. The collar of your uniform is dampened with sweat and you feel it collecting on your forehead.
“No, ma’am!” you lie.
“Good. Because I don’t plan on stopping you anytime soon,” Romanoff says, and you feel your arms quiver in the slightest at her threat. “Down. Up!”
“Fifty-one, Sergeant Romanoff!” you grunt.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Natasha lie down flat on the floor and slide herself under you. She positions herself right underneath your crotch and embarrassingly, you feel yourself harden at the thought of your cock being so close to her face. 
“Sergeant?” you ask.
“I did not give you permission to speak,” Romanoff says, reaching up and pulling your tucked in shirt out of the waistband of your pants. She undoes a few of the buttons on the bottom, slipping her hand inside and running it across the soaked skin of your flexed abs. “I’ve always admired your dedication to physical fitness, Sergeant.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” you respond, your arms shaking as you try to keep yourself upright. 
Romanoff traces her fingers lower and unbuckles your belt, pulling down your zipper. Her fingers purposely brush over your clothed bulge and your body jolts. You suck in a breath, but now with all the blood in your body going down to your groin, your collapse is inevitable. 
“Down.”
You don’t know if you should keep your hips straight or arch them up, but your body has a mind of its own now and you lower yourself, your bulge bumping against Romanoff’s nose. She doesn’t give you the command to push back up, so you wait in that position, shaking from the effort. 
Romanoff peels down your boxers, freeing your hard cock, and licks at it tentatively. You grunt at the contact, now wanting to press down harder into her, but you resist.
“Up.”
You groan as you find the strength to push yourself away from her mouth. 
“Uh...fifty...fifty-two, Sergeant Romanoff.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already lost count,” Romanoff teases, reaching up and wrapping her warm hand around you, pumping it slowly. Your thighs quiver from the stimulation and you feel pre-cum shuttle out of the tip. “Down.”
This time when you lower yourself, Romanoff guides you into her mouth. She takes almost your entire length, nestling your head in the back of her throat and your eyes roll in pleasure. 
Instead of telling you to go back up (since her mouth is full of your dick), she pushes against your thighs and you begrudgingly obey. 
“F-Fifty-three, Sergeant Romanoff,” you whimper when your cock is exposed to the cool air once again. All you want is to be buried down the warmth of her throat until you lose your load. 
“How many more do you think you can last?” Romanoff asks. “Two? Three?”
Privately, you don’t think you’ll last another one, with the fact that you’re on top of her but she’s in control of you making your head spin.
“Down.”
You moan in relief when she takes you again, this time sealing her lips around the base of your cock and sucking rhythmically. Your hips start to jerk on their own, breaking your perfect form, but you don’t care anymore and you can tell your sergeant doesn’t, either.
“Fuck, Sergeant,” you splutter, her tongue teasing the veins on your cock finally sending you over the edge without warning. Your thighs flex and your arms shake as you struggle to keep yourself from falling on top of Romanoff completely. Her throat milks you to swallow your entire load and she doesn’t stop until you’re begging to pull back out.
“You tasted better than I thought you would, Sergeant,” Romanoff says, sliding out from under you. “Recover.” You scramble to stand up, resuming the position of attention and humiliated to notice your now-limp cock hanging out of your pants. Your chest heaves from the exertion of over 50 pushups and you know Romanoff isn’t done with you yet. 
She moves to stand in front of you. She wipes her lips with the back of her hand and leans against you, putting her hand on your cock once more, massaging it back to hardness. “I hope you have good stamina here too,” she whispers, before pushing you onto her desk and riding you until neither of you can walk.
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AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
Click here for Part 2!
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ervotica · 10 months
Text
𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. [𝐟.𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫]
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you think finnick’s in danger, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect him. or, that time the mutts impersonated your fiancé and you lost your shit.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon level violence, finnick is cute, reader is traumatised and also crying. overall not my best writing but it’s something.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: apologies for my absence guys, life has been kicking me in the ass of late. here’s an apology fic, i know it sucks i am very rusty in the writing department. love ya🫶
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Finnick has been gone for ten minutes when the birds start circling; he’s disappeared into the trees, aimlessly digging when the sounds of flapping wings and voices hit the group’s poised ears.
You’re stumbling into the undergrowth at the first threat of danger, the breath quick to steal from your lungs as his voice rings in your ears.
“Y/N? Where are you? Help me!” Finnick’s voice calls, low and pained and drawn out terribly. Every sensible explanation dies, shrivels up and blackens in your head and you’re running towards the sound, swatting leaves and fallen branches out of the way.
“Finnick!” you shriek. “Finnick!”
Your heartbeat thumps in your own head, blood rushing and pounding when you trip and stumble your way further into the trees.
Peeta and Johanna are behind you, their grappling hands doing little to stop you on your rampage.
“They’re jabberjays, it’s not real!” Peeta tries to coax you down but it’s no use, you’re in a blind panic.
“Finn!” you scream for him again. “Finnick!”
Every awful scenario floods your head at once, of Snow and the Capitol and the torture they could inflict on him. It’s the only way to hurt you, hurting him, and Snow knows that.
Your cheeks are hot and damp with tears as you spin, frantic and wide eyed and desperate to catch a glimpse of Finnick; Johanna seizes you from behind, pushing you down to the ground and holding you there. When you thrash and lift your head, her hand clasps the back of your neck and forces your nose into the damp floor.
“It’s not real!” she growls.
He’s still screaming. Screaming for you. It hurts your ears and grabs your chest with white-hot panic, pure and unrelenting.
By the time the hour’s up, you’re limp, breath ragged and laboured. Johanna manhandles you up until you feel the bark of a tree digging into your back; you hiss and push her away indignantly. You have this far away look in your eyes, glazed and unfocused, only snapping to attention when a pair of footsteps bowl through the trees and crouch next to you.
“Finn,” you whisper, trembling as he wraps thick wired arms around you and pulls you flush to him. His pulse is fast and hard like a drum pressed to your cheek, his chest heaving as you climb him.
“It wasn’t real. I’m fine, we’re fine.”
You gasp and wheeze and clutch at him like he might slip away, a fist in his sandy hair, your shoulder wedged under his armpit. His grip is like iron around your waist and his breath is warm and comforting on the juncture of your shoulder.
“You’re okay,” you mumble, repeating over and over as though you’re trying to convince yourself.
“I’m okay. Look at me,” he demands. His hands are warm. “It wasn’t real.”
“Not real.” You rake fingernails across the nape of his neck, squeezing to keep him close. Your breath is ragged. “We’re fine.”
“There’s my girl.”
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forever-rogue · 1 year
Note
yayy now that ik you're open to write for joel, i propose smth angsty along the lines of "you came back for me" bc reader and joel got into a really big fight before getting separated. i just want the angstttt pls crush my heart tear it apart then put it back together by ending really fluffy plssss
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AN | The inevitable has arrived - here we are foraying into Joel territory. Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.4k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You’re really stupid sometimes,” it was an exasperated huff that had your hands on your hips as you looked at him. You didn’t mean it - not really anyway. Joel was probably one of the smartest and most resourceful people you’d ever met. He hung his head with a heavy sigh before turning back to you. His expression was entirely unamused, “so foolish and - and stubborn!”
This got a laugh out of him, a bark of unamused laughter but nonetheless. He crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself? You don’t get what you want and you act like a petulant child!”
“I am not,” you hissed, trying your best not to stomp your foot; you didn’t need to help prove his point any further. Maybe he was a little right…Joel often was. But you also felt like your point was right too. Even if this was the middle of a weird zombie apocalypse you were now living in, you should be able to take some time out for yourself. Especially now that you had a more stable living situation, “it’s always work this and work that with you. We should-”
“We should do what we need to in order to survive,” he cut you off, refusing to meet your eyes. He knew, begrudgingly, that you also weren’t entirely wrong, “that is the most important thing.”
“What about us-”
“There is no us,” he insisted and damn. Those four little words broke your heart more than anything. All this time spent together, getting to know each other both on a physical and emotional level meant nothing to him. You should have known. It was almost funny in a horrible way. The older man refused to look at you and you couldn’t help but think him a coward. Maybe he was right after all - maybe you were just a child, “get that in your head and let’s get this over with. We’re losing daylight.”
He took a few steps forward, dirt and gravel crunching under his boots. You shook your head, more to yourself than anything but didn’t follow him. When Joel didn’t hear your footsteps behind him, he turned around, “I’m not going with you.”
“C’mon,” he insisted, “don’t be like this. It’s dangerous for you to be out here by yourself.”
“Well, how am I ever going to learn to survive solely on my own if I’ve always got you or someone else leading the way?” He was correct in reasoning though. It wasn’t safe for anyone alone. It was also recommended that people go out in pairs for that reason, “just go on and I’ll find my own way back.”
“Stop acting like this,” but you just shook your head and took a step further back, “can you just listen to me for once?”
“Actually, Joel, for once it would be me not listening to you. So…you do whatever it is you need to do, do it. I’ll go back and patiently wait. Then you can come back and tell me what to do,” you offered him a sticky sweet smile before turning on your heel and heading back in the direction from which you came. You took off before Joel could say anything, biting your lip in order to keep from making any extra sounds or letting your tears fall down your cheeks. 
You heard him call after you, your name falling from his lips in an increasingly exasperated tone. You heard him come after you for a few moments, but eventually he stopped, his signature sigh falling from his lips. But eventually he moved on and you continued back towards Jackson. 
Realistically you’d just proved his point by acting in such a childish manner. But you didn’t care, not right now. He’d hurt you, and you didn’t even know if he’d meant to or knew the effect his words were having on you. 
“Dumb, stupid girl,” you groaned at yourself, “had to go and mess everything up. And now you’re going to get yourself lost.”
Admittedly, your sense of direction wasn’t the greatest. But the path you’d taken to get to this point, the point where you’d picked an argument with Joel, had been a fairly linear path. Surely you couldn’t fuck that up.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
And yet…you managed to fuck that right up. 
It was dark and you weren’t back to Jackson yet and you knew that was wrong. It shouldn't have taken so long to get back. You should have been back already. Somewhere along the line you had either taken a wrong turn or missed a turn but you found yourself wandering aimlessly. It was too quiet out here, not even sounds of nighttime creatures reaching your ears. If there were anything out there with you, they’d probably hear you in a heartbeat. You’d just have to hope that there wouldn’t be any runners or stalkers or worse - clickers. You were glad you’d remembered to stash an extra knife in your boot and still had the shotgun slung across your back. You’d never taken one on your own, but you figured you could manage. You were going to have to. 
But you just hoped that you wouldn’t come across everything. You’d just camp out in one of the abandoned buildings you’d found until daybreak and then make your way back. That seemed like the most logical and smart thing to do. 
You went to check the front door of the building and, naturally, it was locked. Luckily there was an open window nearby that you figured you could use to get in. Hopefully that was a good sign that nothing else was able to get in either. You jumped the little bit of distance that you needed in order to climb up, catching your hands on the window sill and pulling yourself up. You managed to get in, but suffered a less than graceful landing as you plopped on the ground. And…managed to roll your ankle in the process. 
“Fuck,” you cried, clutching at your ankle in pain as you tried to stifle your whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you slowly sat up and tried to massage the pain in your ankle away, “shit, damn it. Fuck!”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you slapped a hand over it to try and keep any further sound at bay. You sat still, and listened for a few moments to make sure you didn’t hear anything. After a few tense, still minutes had passed, you relaxed; it didn’t seem like anything was there with you. 
Crawling towards the corner, you made yourself as small as possible, sitting with your back against the concrete wall, and hugging your knees to your chest. Anything to make yourself as small and unimposing as possible. It was probably a stupid idea to sleep, alone and vulnerable, but it had been a long day and you needed some rest. Your eyes grew heavier and heavier and before you knew it you had succumbed to sleep’s siren call.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time your eyes opened up, heavy and dry, it was the morning. Daylight was streaming inside the room and you let out a relieved, but shaky sigh. You’d made it through the night. That in and of itself was a good sign that you’d make it back. It was safer in the light and you might even meet someone from Jackson on the way back. 
As you tried to stand up, you quickly remembered what had happened. The stabbing pain your ankle causing you to yelp as you leaned against the wall, using it to help support yourself. Okay, okay, okay - this was going to be trickier than you thought but you’d be able to get yourself out of there. Your survival instinct was stronger than that.
But before you could do anything or plan anything else you heard it. It was your name being called out in the distance. Gooseflesh erupted all over your skin as you tried to pick out the voice. It came closer and closer and it didn’t take long to figure out who it was. Joel. It made your heart jump before you remembered what had happened. You could just - fuck it. You needed him to survive and while you were stubborn among a whole lot of other things, you were willing to put aside. 
“Joel!” you held onto the sill so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. You poked your head outside and looked around until you found him a short distance away, “Joel.”
He stopped at the sound of your voice, and you could see the evident relief that washed over his features. He jogged over to you, and you offered him a tentative, nervous little smile. He shook his head when he realized that you were safe, running a hand through his dark hair. Joel exhaled slowly before looking at you, a hard glint to his, “do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” you rolled your eyes lightly.
“This isn’t a game,” his voice sounded between annoyed, worried, and relieved all at once. He reached over and gently touched your face, his hand resting on your cheek, “you thought you could just go off on your own and find your way back? You couldn’t even do that. I got back and you weren’t there. Do you even know what I thought? I-I…”
“I’m okay,” you promised, putting your hand on top of his and giving it what you hoped was a reassuring little squeeze. He wasn’t looking at you, instead looking up at the blue sky. It was almost funny in a way; if you looked up, staring into the bright blue sky, it almost seemed like nothing was wrong and the world was as it had always been, “look at me, please. Joel.”
“I thought something had happened,” he swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes met yours. There was a hard edge to them, but they were still soft, “I thought I’d fucking lost you.”
“You came back,” you took his hand in yours, admiring the feeling of his calloused fingers against your surprisingly soft skin, “you came back for me.”
“Of course I did,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “that was never a question. You should have just come with me and none of this would have happened. You stubborn, foolish girl.”
“You…” it all seemed so trivial and silly now. Now that he was back and had come for you, “I…’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just left. Not with my sense of direction.”
“I’m sorry too,” he admitted and you raised an eyebrow in surprise. That was not what you had been expecting to hear. Joel Miller was a hard man and he didn’t generally didn’t experience situations in which he had to apologize, “I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”
“I shouldn’t have just assumed that you and I were…anything,” your voice dropped as you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to well up, “it was stupid of me and ended up causing both a lot of trouble.”
“You are extremely important to me,” his voice was gentle when it broke the silence that had fallen over the two of you. You couldn’t help the small smile that ticked up the corners of your mouth, “even if I didn’t make it seem like it. We’ll…figure it out, okay? But I want you to know that…I…”
“I know,” you did know. You knew exactly what he was trying to convey, exactly what was going through his mind. It was the same thing you were still scared to say, “me too, Joel.”
He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “c’mon. Let’s get you back home and we can…go from there.”
“There’s, um…just a small issue with that,” you put on a sheepish smile as Joel looked at you expectantly, “when I found this place last night - the door was locked. I didn’t want to make too much noise so I didn’t try to force it open. Instead, I climbed in through the window.”
“I can get you out of the window-”
“I hurt my ankle.”
“Of course you did.”
“Joel-”
“It’s always something with you,” he tutted at you, but there wasn’t any anger or malice behind the sound, “what am I going to do with you, huh?”
“Keep me around because I keep you on your toes?” you tried and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. You looked at him with a gentle smile, “can you help get me out of here?”
“Of course,” he promised, “sprained or broken?”
“I dunno,” you looked at the swollen joint and grimaced, “I think just sprained. But I’m not a doctor so…”
“Kid,” affection laced the nickname that he liked to tease you with. He came closer to the window and held his arms out to you. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, letting him tug you closer to his body before he picked you up and swung you through the window. You thought he would set you down, but he didn’t. Instead he held to you his chest, “you’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Thank you,” before you could stop yourself you kissed him tenderly on his scruffy cheek, “thank you for coming back for me.”
“I’ll always come back for you,” he promised and you knew he meant it, “always.”
“I know,” you hugged him tightly, “me too. I mean, if the situation were ever reversed. Which I doubt it would be, but you know, the sentiment is there.”
“I know, Kid,” you could feel the laughter vibrating in his chest, “I know."
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