Tumgik
#so this wasn't where i thought this would go based on the prompt but i think i like where it ended up
luvrxbunny · 6 months
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need
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
Prompt: Thigh Fucking
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv attempts, hurt pussy, some sad feelings, creampie(?)  (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 2.5k
A/N: *sulking in a corner* not proofread at all
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He’s gotten used to it, the constant stabbing pain at the base of his stomach, the daydreams and fantasies that plague his every free minute. He’s more sensitive too, you can do anything and it’ll turn him on, make him hard, or raise a new fantasy for him to jerk off to later that night. He got used to waking up in the morning with a throbbing pain between his legs, or a cold wetness soaking his underwear. He got used to having to sneak away to the bathroom, lock himself in his office with his blinds pulled shut because you decided to drop by, or you made him lunch and left a note that was a bit too cute for him to handle. 
He never asked why you didn’t seem to have any sexual interest in him. He assumed that you either didn’t want him that way, or you weren't ready. So when you told him that the real reason was because you’re a virgin… His pain increased tenfold. All his fantasies, all the material he could think of late a night became visions of him taking your virginity, working his fat cock into your tight, unused, untouched, hole. It became a hindrance to his day, something he thought about more than he worried about canon events. He couldn’t get you out of his head, he didn't want to pressure you so he didn’t voice desperation, but it’s like you were trying to provoke him. 
You became more open, more okay with talking about sex, and your fantasies and asking him questions, voicing your curiosities. He found out that you actually think about him quite a bit, almost all the time apparently. There was an entire night, filled with a few blunts and alcohol where you spent hours, literal hours, telling him about all the fantasies you’ve had. You told him about your most used ones, all the ‘odd’ things that turn you on. He had to hide his boner, almost crushing his beer in his hand with how tense he was and his needs doubled again, turning his blood to molten lava.
Then you offered it to him, you came to him and told him you wanted him to be the one who takes your virginity, you wanted his cock to be the first to enter your special little cunt. He almost blacked out. He came at you like a frenzy that night, licking and sucking every part of your body before working you open and lining himself up with your precious hole. Only to find that he couldn’t fit. You couldn’t take all of him, he was able to get a quarter of his dick inside before tears were streaming down your face. You told him he could keep going, that you could take it but you were on the verge of sobbing, there wasn't one break in your stream of tears and this is not the way he wanted you crying on him. He pulled out against your will and spent the night comforting you, telling you it’s fine, that you can try again, as many times as you need… and that's what you guys did. 
It’s been about two months of trying to fit him inside you and it’s becoming unbearable. You guys try every other night, sometimes taking more time in between if you’re too sore or you guys are swamped at work. You guys haven’t done anything else in this entire period of time, wanting the next thing you do together, to be him taking your virginity. He agreed not realizing how long it would take. His hand is nowhere near sufficient anymore, no matter how he tries to pretend it’s yours- especially now that he’s had half his dick inside you. It’s a cycle of build-up, tease, Miguel comforting you, and no-release. 
You’re both pent-up. It’s another night of disappointment, you guys had gotten a little further this time, almost his whole cock and you began to think that this was it, Miguel was finally going to have your virginity. Instead, you tore. It was small, it didn’t even feel like much, a sharp burn at the base of your hole. You decided you would just power through, the burn was worth the fulfillment you’d feel at taking him all, at long last, having your boyfriend be completely connected with you, completely surrounded by you. But Miguel knew you were bleeding, there wasn’t enough that he could see it but he could smell the copper in the air and he forced you to stop. 
You fell asleep upset with yourself and listening to Miguel’s loving words, assuring you he’d rather you enjoy yourself than power through for him but you just felt like a failure. All your life you dreamed of losing your virginity to someone you love, someone who cares about you, someone who deserves it, and now that you’ve finally found that person, you can’t even give it to him. You’re too embarrassed to concede, to give up and jerk him off instead. You want him to cum inside you, you’ve even started birth control secretly, hoping to surprise him once he gets close enough. You’d fantasized about the moan he’d let out once telling him that he can just cum inside you, but you’re too small to even get him anywhere near cumming, let alone inside you. 
You wake up to Miguel groaning in pain, you’re a bit scared at the noise but your fear gets replaced by sadness once you see the source of his pain; a fat bulge resting over his thigh, tenting the sheets slightly. You peak up at his face, making sure it’s slack with sleep before focusing on his hard cock again. You sit, lift your head and rest it on your palm, leaning over Miguel a bit as your other hand comes to stroke over the bulge gently. Your eyes are fixed on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch with your touch. It brings a little rush of pleasure through you, knowing you can pleasure him with the slightest bit of pressure. 
You cover him with your hand, cupping it to feel its length and girth against your palm. He whimpers lightly, a sound you’ve never even fantasized about hearing from him, but you know that no matter what you do, you need to hear it again. You can feel his warmth and the way he’s pulsing under your hand, his fingers dig into the sheets gently next to his thighs and his hips lift off the bed momentarily, trying to pleasure himself with you. 
Your eyes leave his face to watch his movements, deciding to give him some mercy and rub your hand along his shaft, stimulating him through his sweatpants and the thin blanket. You’re mesmerized by his stuttering, sleepy movements, at the soft whimpers that fall loosely from his lips. A gasp breaks the trance and his hands lift from the bed quickly to grip your wrists and his hips thrust up, forcing your palm to put pressure on his sensitive cock and just stay. “B-Baby- ”
His voice is thick and confused with delirium, still not completely aware of what’s happening but all he knows is he doesn’t want you to stop. He’s buzzing, thrumming, and vibrating with arousal, with desperation for you, need for you.  
His eyes meet yours in the dark, taking in your obviously turned-on state, how dilated your eyes are and how your sweet scent is already soaking the air, your taste ghosting over his tongue with every breath he takes. His eyes roll back at the thought, paired with your pressure on his throbbing cock and you pull away. He tries to hold in his groan, trying to be grateful for anything you’ll give him but a small squeak of sadness is what comes out and he chuckles softly at the noise. 
You’re still silent, surrounded by your need for him, the only thought in your head is that you need to make him cum. His thick arm comes around you, resting next to your shoulder and pushing you to him gently, nudging you in his direction for a kiss. You smile and drape yourself over his chest, leaning on him and pressing your lips to him. He groans and pulls you closer, admiring your warmth and pressing his cock into the plush of your thighs as he pulls you on top of him. You giggle and help him situate you over him, the base of his cock resting against your neglected clit, sending a shock of pleasure through you and turning your giggles into a light whine. 
Miguel breathes in a sharp breath at your noise, trying to ignore how badly he wants to hold you down and just grind his cock into you until he cums, staining his clothes and hopefully leaving a mark on yours but he keeps himself in check, offering you a fond smile instead. “You okay, amor?” His hand is rubbing up and down your back now, calmly like he isn’t throbbing against your clit right now. You think of just grinding into him, sitting up to straddle him,  and just fucking his bulge into your clit until you’re cumming all over him. “I wanna cum.” Your voice is weak and pathetic, tired and desperate. 
His eyelids flutter at your words and tone, and his arms tense around you, pressing his muscles into your sides for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Yeah? I can-” He takes another shaky breath as his cock throbs beneath you. “I can make that happen, baby. How do you want it?” His stomach is burning at his words, at the hope of getting to touch you, to make you cum. You’re just staring at him, watching him as you think, trying to figure out a way that will satisfy you both. He’s just getting hotter under your gaze, riled up further by your eyes as his hips rise off the bed slowly, pressing his cock into you subconsciously and his eyelids flutter shut at the pleasure.
Your brain is hazy with his movements, his subtle desperation, it’s driving you crazy. You arch your back and seize his lips again with a soft moan. His hands grip your hips, pulling you into him with a groan. You pull away and pant against his lips, running your fingers through his slightly tangled curls and pressing your forehead against his. “Put it against me. Between my thighs.” He growls at your request and flips you both onto your sides, already nodding at you and working his sweatpants off of his legs, kicking them off under the covers. “You want that, honey?” 
His hand cups your face as his other wrestles his cock from its confines. “You want that? Take these off.” He yanks at your underwear, roughly enough that they dig into your skin harshly before snapping back. You wiggle them off and slide your shirt off, wanting to be as close to Miguel as you can. You can’t stop the pout that settles on your face when you realize he plans to leave his shirt on. He laughs lovingly at your face. “Want me to take it off?” He says with a teasing tilt to his voice. You laugh and slide closer to him, taking the hem of his shirt into your hands and already trying to pull it over his head. “Jus wanna be closer t’you, Miggy.” 
The nickname flips something inside him. You only use that name when you’re feeling extra soft for him, extra tender, and needy. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He pulls you in for a quick kiss before taking his shirt off and kissing you again, swallowing the whine you give him when your naked body rests against his. His wet cock slides against your skin, teasing his sensitive tip, forcing a ragged moan from his mouth when it slides over your mound. You giggle at his reaction, smiling at his eyes, squeezed shut as he takes slow breaths, trying to calm himself. You open your legs, grip his cock, and rest it on your thigh, his eyes snap open. You smile and pull him in for another kiss as he reaches behind him blindly for some lube, lotion, coconut oil- something to get your thighs anywhere near as wet as your pussy is. 
You take rest your hand over his as he rubs himself with lube, moaning into your mouth at the sensation. He brings his hand to your face, giggling and apologizing when it smears with lube but devouring you in a kiss once you tell him it’s okay. You close your legs over his cock and whimper into the kiss when his shaft fits itself between your lips. He pulls away with a moan and his hips start fucking into you fervently, overly sensitive and desperate after months of denial. You’re moaning loud and whiny at the way he’s assaulting your clit, constantly stimulating her from the way he’s thrusting against you. You’re digging into his shoulders, feeling the way they flex as his hands grip your hips and run all over your body frantically. 
“I’m not gonna last, mi amor.” The words spit out of him quickly as his thrusts get shorter, more focused on making himself cum than making the moment last. His head is clouded with need, his balls are pulsing painfully and his cock is throbbing between your thighs. You’re gripping his hair like you’ll fly away if you let go and moaning his name like it’s the only word you know. Your hips are bucking into him too now, some incoherent words falling from your lips like music to his ears. 
You’re trying to tell him that you won’t last either, that you’re on the brink of cumming already, that you’ve been craving him for months, and finally having him is one of the best things you’ve felt but your brain has been shut off since he started moving his hips. You can feel the heat in your stomach bubbling over already, spilling into your bloodstream as you shake against him. “Mig-” Your thighs tense and shake around his cock as he groans your name, almost overwhelmed with how you’re stimulating his cock, at how you’ve been unable to get any sound out but once you’re cumming you can find the strength to say his name. You’re shaking on him, your eyes are rolled back into your head and your jaw is dropped open in a silent moan. 
He’s able to grunt out a warning to you before thrusting once- twice- you reach down for his cock and spread your legs, opening to fit him against your entrance. His third thrust stutters to a stop and he’s cumming. 
Fuck. He’s cumming inside you. 
He folds over like he’s been punched in the gut, a rough moan tearing from his chest as his cock throbs against your wet walls. He sounds distraught, like you’ve ruined him. His entire body is tensing in time with the ropes of cum he’s filling you with. It’s an entire flood, a surplus of cum he’s pouring into you, he feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He never even imagined that you’d let him cum inside you, let alone that it’d feel so fucking good. He shudders out a groan and holds you to his chest, giving you curt thrusts to ensure he doesn’t push in too deep but still trying to fuck him cum into you. His eyes are crossed painfully and all the air is gone from his lungs as you pulse around him, massaging his tip and forcing him to give you more cum.
Your name is the only thing he can utter as his cock spews its last few ropes into you, softening and letting his cum leak onto your thighs, leaving a slick, shimmering trail on you as it soaks into the bed.
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irisintheafterglow · 6 months
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it's all me, just don't go (meet me in the afterglow)
summary: satoru is jealous but refuses to admit it.
wc: 1.2k
cw/tags: gojo x reader, arguing, miscommunication, angst/comfort, established relationship, lowercase because this was originally going to be a short answer to a request but ended up being 1k+ words (oops)
note: welcome back gojo nation, today i offer angst that started as a fluffy co-parenting megumi prompt and turned into...this. based on the jealousy prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting !! hope you enjoy :D
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3
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"you think i'm jealous? jealousy is not in my vocabulary, babe."
"mhmm, sure. you're not jealous and the sky isn't blue," you fire back without hesitation. what started as a petty argument was beginning to boil your blood a little too hot for comfort, and you couldn't pinpoint why. thoughts poked around in your mind of your boyfriend's arrogance, the need to be the best, and simultaneous fear that you were going to leave him. but, in true satoru fashion, he chose to be an enigma instead of communicating.
"i'm literally the strongest being in existence," he argues and you catch your eye twitch in the rearview mirror. "what would i have to be jealous about?" a part of you wanted to just slam on the brakes to see if he'd go flying forward but decided against it because of the other occupants in the car. as much as they tried to act like they weren't listening, the two kids in the back weren't very good at hiding their snickers of amusement. "like, really. i'm super hot, i'm super strong, i've got the voice of an angel-"
"i'm just saying, satoru. your behavior back there was...weird. i didn't like it," you mutter.
"and i didn't like how that guy was looking at you like you were some kind of dessert in a pastry shop," he counters. "i just...it's fine. you don't get it." your stomach churns unexpectedly at his tone and there's a sharp pain in your heart that you don't anticipate. you know he didn't mean it, but the sternness of his voice was sounding more hostile the longer you talked with him. it made your face hot, not in that butterflies and daydreams kind of way that he normally made you feel. this feeling was foreign and intense, a sensation that made you want to curl up and hide. it was the same feeling as when you were about to exorcise a curse.
when you were about to fight.
"what's that supposed to mean?" the atmosphere of the car changes in an instant and you can feel the effect your five words have on every occupant of the vehicle. megumi and tsumiki's gazes dart upward, eyeing you nervously while a robotic stiffness shoots through satoru's body. "what do i not get?"
"it's nothing," he grits through his teeth, but you're too angry to back down.
"it's not nothing, so spill it," you say and his jaw clenches. "why are you so jealous of some dude at the grocery store?"
"i said i wasn't jealous."
"your actions are saying otherwise." you start relying more on your instinct to drive you back towards jujutsu tech because your brain was starting to shut down.
"what, you don't believe me? why don't you just trust me?" he's on the verge of shouting at you. he never shouts at you. it terrifies you and it makes the two kids in the second row shift uneasily in their car seats. you don't know what else to say; your mind was preoccupied with not crashing the car and trying not to cry from the stifling pressure in the car.
"i-i don't like you right now," you force out. it's the wrong thing to say and you can sense satoru snap before he does.
"please, be my guest. go with your little cashier if you like him so much better," he spits and your body moves before you can register what it's doing. one minute, you're driving down the street toward the school; the next, you're turning into the nearest mini-mall parking lot, putting the car in park, and slamming the driver's side door behind you. you don't know where else to go, but all you know is that you can't stay in that car with satoru when he's like that. he'd never do anything to hurt megs or tsumiki, but being on the road in such a compromised mental state wasn't safe for any of you. so, you start walking.
the sun was nearly down and you knew it would be faster if you just sucked it up and drove the rest of the way, but something about this petty little fight was bringing up memories you didn't want to rehash. after you make it past the first stoplight, the telltale hum of your car's engine pulls up next to you, coming to a stop while you continue in the direction of the school. punching the hazards button, he jumps from the driver's seat onto the sidewalk to call after you, but you shake your head.
"babe. babe, please get back in the car," he pleads and you keep walking. "i'm sorry. please, come back in the car. i'll drive us the rest of the way and we can talk."
"it's fine," you state firmly without looking at him, "i'll walk back."
"i made a mistake. please, please come back in the car." he gently grabs your wrist to stop you and you shoot him a brutal glare from the corner of your eye, seeing him deflate in real-time. "please." smaller footsteps approach from behind him, and your senses snap back into place when you see that megumi and tsumiki followed satoru out of the car.
"he was stupid," tsumiki says and her brother nods in agreement, "really stupid."
"and if you're walking back to school, we're walking with you," megumi declares and the sentiment is enough to finally get you back in the passenger seat, staring out the window for the few agonizing minutes remaining of the drive. once you've turned on the tv and stuck a frozen dinner in the oven for the two children, you make your way to the bathroom to wash your face of its still-burning sensation. you've just finished drying your face in front of the mirror when he trudges in like a kicked puppy. you feel him before you see him, his arms wrapping around your torso and his face disappearing into your neck.
"i'm so sorry," he whispers and you swallow a thick lump in your throat. "i'm so sorry for what i said and what i did and how i made you feel. you were right; i was jealous. just...seeing you live out such a mundane scene as buying groceries reminded me that you could have anyone you wanted." you turn to face him with a puzzled look.
"what do you mean, anyone i wanted?"
"you could be with anyone you wanted," he says quietly. "anyone but me."
"oh," is all you can choke out before you pull him as close as humanly possible, holding him so tightly that he'd be a fool to think you would ever want anyone else.
"you could have any life you wanted," his voice breaks against your skin. "not one where our best friends die before they reach 20 or disappear off the face of the planet. you don't need to have this one. you don't need to stay with me."
"has it ever occurred to you, satoru," you murmur, "that maybe i want to stay with you? forever and after that?"
"why would you do that to yourself?"
"loving you is not a burden, gojo satoru. i would find you in any lifetime and i would love you in every single one," you vow and your chest aches when he sniffles softly.
"i don't deserve you. i really don't."
"maybe you do, maybe you don't, but that's not up to me to decide. so, it doesn't matter because i'm staying."
"you'll stay?"
"forever and after that."
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queers-gambit · 5 months
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Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs
prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 3.7k+
note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?
warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.
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Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.
You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"
"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.
"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.
"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."
"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.
God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.
You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.
Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.
However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.
And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.
You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.
Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.
Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.
After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"
After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.
"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.
"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"
You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.
"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.
"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."
You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."
He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."
You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"
"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.
You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."
"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."
"Judging me now?"
Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."
"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.
"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."
"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"
"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."
You folded.
Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?
You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.
"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.
Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.
He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.
Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"
"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"
"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."
You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"
He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.
"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."
"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.
You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"
He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.
"Ah, so can't reveal the government."
"Exactly."
"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"
"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"
You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"
He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.
He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.
"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.
A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.
"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."
You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."
"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "
"Isn't that the point?"
He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.
But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.
One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.
"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.
"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."
You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.
"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."
You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."
He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"
"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.
"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.
You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.
"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.
"Oh, Jesus fuck!"
He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"
"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."
This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."
"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.
"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"
"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.
"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."
"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."
"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.
You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"
The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.
"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"
"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"
"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.
"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"
"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"
"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."
"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.
He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."
You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."
"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"
"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"
"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."
"I wasn't planning on it?"
"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."
You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"
"A bit."
You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.
"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."
You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"
He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"
"I don't even know you."
"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.
"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.
"You still owe me for those," you pointed.
"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."
You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."
To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."
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[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]
requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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hi could i request a percy fic based off of olivia’s new song obsessed?? where reader and percy got together after percabeth
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ I Got Issues, I Can't Help It, Baby
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content: percy jackson x jealous! reader warning: mentions of jealous, little tiny baby minor fight, ends in comfort! author's note: argh this was such a good prompt and i feel like i've kinda fumbled it lmao. i dunno, i tried reworking it a few times but it wasn't coming out how i wanted frfr i like the beginning and the end but the middle can go rot frfr lmao it's cool tho whatevas. also posted from the airport 🫡
it was hard dating annabeth chase's ex boyfriend- er, sorry, percy jackson.
i mean, the girl made it nearly impossible to hate her. she was pretty, she was kind, she was smart, and she never spoke poorly of you. in fact, she was surprisingly supportive of your relationship with her ex, making 'good luck' comments with a teasing smile.
gods, you hated that you hated her.
you weren't even completely sure where it stemmed from. maybe a small part was from your insecurities, another part from that fact that camp was relatively small and everyone knew everything. you knew, before you even started to crush on your boyfriend, the he and annabeth had been the it couple for years. news of their break-up shook the whole camp. you couldn't help but feel like you had something to prove, following up all that.
what made it all that much harder was the fact that percy didn't see it like you did (few people saw it like you did, truly). he was so sweet with you, the perfect boyfriend, and here you were, glaring over at his perfect ex-girlfriend. the guilt ate away at your bones but you couldn't seem to look away.
"yn? you even listening to me?" percy asked with a chuckle, bumping his shoulder with yours.
"what? sorry, i got, er, distracted," you replied, ripping your eyes away from annabeth as she laughed in such a beautiful way, you were starting to understand how percy could have fallen in love with her. which left you wondering why he was even talking to you, let alone dating you.
"yeah? what's going on in that brain of yours, huh?" he asked, glancing at you with a concerned look. and you could see it, percy asking this same question to annabeth. which, in turn, had you huffing and rolling your eyes.
"nothing."
"woah. clearly, it's something. cmon, talk to me-"
"drop it, percy," you bit out, fully prepared to get up and stomp away.
"drop what? i don't even know what we're arguing about right now."
"i don't either!" was your murmured reply as you dug your head into your hands. you had flashes of thoughts of the darling daughter of athena, who problem has never not known something in her entire life.
"than why are we arguing?!" percy asked, his face all scrunched up in confusion. and it would have been cute and endearing if you could see through the rage that muddied your vision
"i dont know! im not as smart as annabeth, maybe then i could figure it out. or maybe then, we wouldn't even be arguing in the first place!" you cried, rapidly standing up and basically running from the boy, eager to hide the fact that tears were building in the corner of your eyes and the fact that you really didn't want to be fighting with him.
the rest of the day was spent holed up in your cabin. you kicked all your siblings out, telling them to scram unless they wanted to feel your wrath. they scattered pretty quickly. you buried your face in your pillows, occasionally screaming but that is simply between you and your pillow. you wanted to pull your hair out for arguing with your perfectly sweet boyfriend. you wanted to scream until you were blue in the face for even thinking mean thoughts about annabeth, who has been nothing but kind to you. but, most importantly, you weren't going to leave this cabin until a whole new generation of campers came and even then that was pushing it.
but, naturally, you're plans were disrupted by a knock against your cabin door.
"get lost!" you shouted into your pillow, refusing to get up and hoping the person got the message. evidently, they didn't as they knocked a few more times.
"leave me alone!" you called, barely lifting your face from the pillow so you could be better heard. and the knocking finally stopped. you would have smiled if you weren't in such a sour mood, promptly dropping your face back into your pillow with a sullen groan.
but then your cabin door was swinging open, percy proudly kneeling next to the lock he had picked. you jumped as the door open, fully removing your head from your pillow before locking eyes with your sweet boyfriend, who offered you a small smile and tilt of his head. you sighed, throwing yourself back into your pillows and hiding away from the boy, who chuckled softly at your actions.
you refused to look up again, but you could hear him close the door and begin to make his way towards you. the bed creaked as he sat down on the edge of it. nothing was said for a moment but you could feel percy's eyes on you and basically see his little smirk.
"wanna come out of the pillow?"
"no," came your muffled voice and percy rolled his eyes, knowing you couldn't see him.
"alright, have it your way. how about i talk and you actually listen this time?" percy offered and you hummed back, slightly worried about hat he was going to say. i mean, if i found out my girlfriend was obsessing over my ex, i'd break up with her too.
"if you're worried about annabeth, you really shouldn't be," percy started and you went to grumble about something but he cut you off, "shush. let me finish. sure, annabeth is great-"
"this is terrible, percy."
"let me finish, for gods sake! i was going to say that we broke for a reason and i got with you for a reason. yes, annabeth is a good person, but im with you. and i am so, so in love with you. you, perfectly you, yn. no annabeth, but you. not better or worse, just different," rambled percy and you couldn't help but slowly remove yourself from your pillow, bashfully looking up at the sweet son of poseidon.
"there's your pretty face," he muttered, seemingly without thinking. this had you rolling your eyes and falling against his chest, hiding your face in his camp shirt. he laughed softly, draping his arms loosely around you.
"im sorry," you whispered into the cotton fabric, more words of explanation for you actions dying on your tongue as he kissed your temple.
"me too. i should have noticed sooner," percy shrugged, tilting his head for a chance to meet your eyes. you allowed his sea green ones to lock onto yours and you knew you'd be okay. he always had that sort of easing effect on you, like sleeping with white noise on.
"no, it's alright. i've got issues, i just can't help it," you replied with a soft laugh.
"hey! ain't nothing wrong with being a little obsessed!"
"and you'd know, mr. im-gonna-stalk-your-ex."
"and then i beat him up."
"and then you beat him up, yes, how dare i leave that part out."
maybe it wasn't all that bad, seeing as percy was equally as obsessed as you were. jealous was a hideous green monster but...you and percy always thought you guys looked so good in green
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months
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Supersons +1 prompt answer
If you asked Danny, 12 year old half-ghost hero of Amity Park, how half-life was going, he'd tell you things were mixed.
On the one hand, he had just spent the last three or four months in family/scientist/'this house is a death trap waiting to happen' therapy with Jazz, and by some miracle, it worked. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of dream as his parents poured over years upon years of research, crossing out lines, rewriting equations, and reevaulating everything they thought they knew about ghosts.
Was the shudders family therapy worth not going over how they'd like to dissect him? he's still not sure. The horror.
Not to mention the attention. Danny was sure he was going to throw up if his parents drag him away for more bonding time, only for a ghost to attack and for him to run off to transform. What made it worse was when the Fentons came barrelling out, guns blazing, alternating between getting mad that he'd interrupted their family time, and asking him questions about "Your suspicious spook culture, if you even have one you dangerous delusional delinquent!"
At least they were trying, but Danny was very much comfortable not spilling the beans on the whole half-ghost situation, thank you very much.
And that's why, when Dad proposed to take him to Gotham to show off their latest invention, he jumped at the chance. The home city of the Batman, one of the greatest heroes known to man (except for Martian Manhunter and Superman of course) and Dad promised to take him to Gotham Observatory too. Not to mention how much he wanted to get away from Jazz's smug looks of superiority. Gotham here he comes!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian Wayne scowled as he scanned the crowed of scientists with more smarts than sense. Really, a flying toilet seat. For what deviant?
"Maybe they're for people who can fly." Kent piped up beside him. Father had let the two of them run off together, and his company was mildly more appealing than being alone with his thoughts.
"Why would Superman ever need to relieve himself mid-air. I do not believe you would appreciate your father's rear end being on display for all the world to see."
"True." Jon hummed. His voice lowered to a whisper. "You think indecent exposure is what your dad meant by "scoping out any potential future villains?"
Damian gave Jon a flat look. The sooner this convention ended, the better.
The crowded shifted, and the mass of visitors pushed toward a certain corner, where a man large enough to rival Superman's build stood upon a podium, with a boy their age off to the side.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the latest in FentonWorks' innovations, the Fenton Ghost Zone Radar, soon to revolutionise the study of ghosts!"
"I thought ghosts were a magic thing." Jon said. "You know, stuff Constantine and JLD deal with."
"They are."
"Mixing magic and science is like, like, oil and water. No way this guy's serious, is he?"
"His name is Jack Fenton. That's Daniel Fenton, his son." Damian pointed to the boy in question, looking like he'd seen this scene a hundred times before, but with that knowing glint that promised something deeper. "They're normally spotted alongside Jack's wife, Madeline. Widely regarded as quacks by the larger scientific community for chasing paper-thin theories about ghosts, they've nonetheless gained funding from the government. This is the first time they've left their base of operations in Amity Park for years."
"Woah, you know your stuff, Dami!"
Damian glared at the young Superboy in disguise. "I read the briefing files. Didn't you?"
Kent looked uncomfortable and looked away. "Uhh, maybe?"
"Typical."
"Well, if he's so crazy, then why'd your dad even let him in." Upon another scathing glare, Kent relented. "Oh right, the whole supervillain thing."
"Enough chatter. We'll zero in on the younger Fenton. I intend to squeeze him like a grape, and make Father proud."
"Dami maybe you should be a little nicer-" Only for Damian to march off without him.
Honestly, inane niceties were above someone of his status. Those things were Superboy's job, and if Daniel Fenton wouldn't crack, then Damian was itching to try a new torture technique.
@impyssadobsessions
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reiderwriter · 1 month
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Okay, I just wanted to start off and say I love your stories. They're always so good. You've reblogged one of my stories a while, and I actually squealed and scared the crap out of my friend. But yeah, I live you and your stories 💖💖💖
So I read your one story of Spencer being a soon-to-be dad, and I really like the idea of seeing Spencer and reader as actual parents just feeling the emotions. I thought something based around their daughter (because Spencer's a girl dad) hitting a milestone like walking, talking, or something even bigger like the first day of school. I don't know if that makes sense, but either way, I hope you like it!
A/N: I love the idea of new-dad Spencer. He deserves a loving family and a baby so much 😭 I combined this request with one of the prompts for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic challenge which you can find the details for here! ❤️
Warnings: none, just fluff.
Masterlist
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You never thought leaving to go for a spa day would be one of the hardest things you'd have to do in your life, but here you were. 
In the ten months since you'd given birth to your daughter, you'd been stressed, lacking in sleep, leaking fluids from places that you forgot could have fluids leak from, and you'd been totally, irreversibly, head over heels in love. 
Both with the tiny little gremlin you'd given birth to, and with the man that you watched become a father. 
Spencer Reid was a great dad. 
He'd had a fair amount of anxiety leading up to the birth, worrying about every detail, talking to geneticists, driving you to and from each check up or attending via video call if he was on a case. After she was born, he helped out as best he could. 
For a man who had delivered a baby before and was absolutely great with his teammates' kids, he couldn't hold her for the first week without an intense look of panic crossing his features.
“Y/N, what happens if I drop her?” 
“Y/N, she sneezed. What if I got her sick?”
“Y/N, she fell asleep, I can't move.” 
A genius with an IQ of 187 slashed to 60 in front of a pretty girl. His tiny daughter had him thrown through a loop he got seriously stuck in. 
He was still helpful, and he got used to all his new duties and tasks within a week, but watching those cute clueless expressions pass over his face now and then endeared you to him that much more. 
He knew everything, but he had to learn this right there with you. 
So yes, leaving for a relaxing spa visit was hard. 
Spencer had been on a case for the last four days, his first since your daughter had arrived and the official end to his paternity leave. You'd been happy to see him get back to it, in all honesty. Spencer’s job, his research, and his work at the FBI were like muscles he needed to stretch. It wasn't that he couldn't live without them, but there would always be a part of him that felt stiff or unsure of himself without the possibilities of a case to unravel or some theorizing to do. 
You were slightly panicked at the thought of being alone with your daughter for four days, but you managed. With a phone call home every single night where he asked you about every single thing your little bundle of joy had done outside of his watchful gaze. 
Now, it was your turn. 
Spencer had insisted on it upon returning from his case. He got four nights of relative peace after 20 months of waking up with the baby, sleeping with the baby, napping when the baby napped, carrying the baby around when it became evident that she was desperately scared of not being the center of attention. 
He came back with a spring in his step, and the deep desire to see you get a solid night's rest the way he'd been able to. 
You'd tried shooting him down, multiple times, to no reward. 
“Spencer, you didn't exactly just up and go off gallivanting. You were working.”
“I was working, and I still got more rest than you. I really needed that sleep and time away, Y/N, and I think you do, too. Now, please, go away,” he'd pulled you into his arms when you'd put the baby down that night to reveal his brilliant plans. 
“Just for the night. Go away for a lovely overnight break. Not indefinitely. I love you.” His panicked confession at the end sent you into giggles, that with a few well times kisses had you reluctantly agreeing to the girls trip he'd planned you. 
The BAU girls had been roped into accompanying you on the trip, which honestly meant that he'd be getting status updates any time he asked for one. 
JJ, Penelope, Emily, and Tara were all going to strong arm you into the car if need be to carry you off to the nearest 5(ish) star Hotel and Spa. 
And that's exactly what happened. 
The man had even packed the bag for you to send you off, had made you breakfast in bed and had run to every sound your daughter had made from dusk until dawn so you didn't have to lift a finger. 
“Y/N, you're resting today.”
“But-” 
“No. No buts. Just rest.”
“At least let me hold her for a second to say goodbye.” He blinked at you for a few seconds before his stubbornly helpful face turned softer, and he quickly handed your daughter back for a small cuddle. 
With a lingering hug, you told your daughter - who absolutely did not care one bit that you would be wandering out of the house soon enough - that you'd be back in the morning, kissed your husband on the lips, and were swiftly kidnapped by JJ and Emily. 
To your credit, you lasted two whole hours before breaking down. 
The drive to the hotel was quick and peaceful, and it felt nice to breathe in the fresh air without having to also check for various baby smells. 
You checked in fast, and all gathered in the in-hotel restaurant for brunch and mimosas, and then it hit you. Another mother walked in with a stroller, and you were blubbering. 
Your bottom lip wobbled, and the rest of the world ceased to exist as you gave in to the emotions. 
You knew, of course, that you were going to have to leave your daughter at some point. It wasn't healthy for either of you to have attachment issues, and you didn't want to hinder your daughters development by sticking too close - but that didn't mean you didn't miss her. 
JJ noticed your watery eyes first. “Oh no, I know that look,” she smiled over her drink, taking a sip. 
“What? What look?” You said, but giving yourself massively away with a good sniff and watery blink. 
“You lasted longer than I did. I couldn't go half an hour without turning my car around and heading back to Henry, and I swear it was only worse with Michael.” 
You giggled a bit as you wiped your eyes. 
“Do you think… do you think we could go back? Just for a little bit. I just want to check on them.”
The women passed a look between them and then nodded back at you, obviously having expected this. 
“Actually, we didn't book any spa treatments until the afternoon. We had a feeling something like this would happen,” Tara smiled at you, and you snorted in surprise as you dabbed away your tears with a handkerchief. 
“We are laying some ground rules though,” Emily said, a stern tone fighting the playful smile on her face. 
“We can peak through a window, but we're not going in. And we're not going to call ahead and let Spencer know. The kid needs to know you feel confident in his parenting skills, and if he's just got the baby settled and you come back in, it won't be easy to calm her down again.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, but you were already halfway to the car by the time you could finish the sentence. 
The girls pulled up a block away and let you walk calmly back to your front door. 
You'd since agreed to a time limit and not to unlock the door. Emily went ahead to scope out the house, communicating with JJ on the phone who was holding your hand to stop you from wringing them. 
You'd never been a part of the BAU, but somehow you felt like a team member on a case getting ready to stake out a target. 
When Emily gave you the signal, the rest of the girls gave you space, and you ducked down to peer into your ground floor window. 
Spencer was on his stomach with your daughter, and they were having what seemed like a riveting conversation. 
“And so then I obviously got tongue-tied. Like I said, Daddy isn't good at talking to people, let alone beautiful women like Mommy.” 
“Be be be da.”
“Exactly. I really embarrassed myself, actually. I went up to her and said ‘do you have a number?’ and she was so confused.”
“Ba!” 
“Yeah, she sounded like that, too. I kept talking more and more, and she couldn't understand what I meant. She thought I was asking about her age at one point. I was just getting redder and redder, and then she grabbed my hand and led me to a seat at the back of the bookshop because she thought I was sick.”
He smiled down at the infant again, still babbling to herself.
“I was sick, of course, but it was just love sickness. I still am.” 
The tears that you'd delicately wiped away earlier came back hot and heavy now as you resisted the urge to crawl through the window to your precious family. 
Spencer was telling your daughter the story of how he first asked you out, near disastrously, and from the sounds of it, he wasn't done telling stories. 
“I really love your Mommy, you know. She's wonderful.”
“Mmmm,”
“See, you think so too. Everyone thinks so.” 
“Mmmma” 
“Yes, your Mama. You’re just like her, everyone loves you, too.” 
“Mama.”
You heard Spencer's breath hitch as you closed a hand over your mouth to stop a shocked squeal from coming out. 
“T-That's right. Mama. One more time, say mama.”
“Mama,” the little baby squealed in delight, reacting to her fathers utter joy. 
“You're speaking. One more time, Mama.”
“Mama!” 
“Your mama is going to be so mad,” Spencer whispered, grabbing his daughter up in one more careful hug and kissing her face as she giggled delightfully. “We need to keep this a secret. Tomorrow, you'll have you say your first word in front of her, and we'll both act surprised, okay? Promise?”
The gargle he got in response was enough to have your shoulders shaking as the others extricated you from your own front lawn. 
Back in the car, you broke down into giggles and tears, shoulders rising and falling in sobs and laughter intermittently. 
“Is this a total psychotic break or just a symptom of seeing Spencer as a dad?” Penelope asked, nudging you with her elbow as you tried to regain your composure.
“It's… whew, it's okay. We can go back now.” 
“You sure?” JJ asked from the driver's seat, and you nodded once again.
“Yeah. I'm fine now. I'm really good.” 
The women all offered you similar smiles as you drove away, blissful and content. 
608 notes · View notes
pandoraslxna · 3 months
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Lo‘ak x female omatikaya reader x Neteyam
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⋆。° ✮ Minors dni 🔞
⋆。° ✮ Masterlist
⋆。° ✮ Warnings: explicit smut, slight cnc warning, restraints, pred/prey play, teacher / student dynamics, in public
⋆。° ✮ There was almost no way I could think of any other pairing for this prompt than the Sully bros with reader and it’s all thanks to @tallulah477 and her amazing fic "hunting the tawtute" so make sure to give it a read, it’s one of my fav fics 😩🩵
⋆。° ✮ Translation: sevin = pretty
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The distant calls echoing through the forest didn’t belong to either one of them. It belonged to one of the other tsamsiyu [warrior in training] who were participating in todays lesson of hunting down and killing wild prey.
You however, were playing your own game and had moved out of the training area almost immediately, melting into the dense underbrush like a nantang. Because, unlike the others, you weren’t actually hunting. In this special case, it was you that was the prey. You were being hunted.
You'd taken off at a lope, covering distance quickly before slowing and taking care to hide your tracks. You had headed west, remembering a stream they had mentioned to all numeyus [students] the night before, telling you all that this was the border of the training area.
You hadn't seen the slightest sign of either of them and given how long it had been it was likely that they still didn’t know where you were. Better keep it that way, you thought to yourself as you crouched at the base of a tree, making your profile as small as possible. You knew the outcome if they would find you. After all, there was a reason you were their favorite numeyu out of them all and your lessons usually ended just a little differently than it ended for the others. A little more… personal.
For a moment, you were completely still, breathing slowly, silently, listening for anything you could use to pinpoint how close they were. Nothing. You must’ve been so far away from the rest of the group that you couldn’t even hear the other students anymore. So you edged your way through the trees, abandoning the cover of the underbrush in favor of putting even more distance between them. There was a rather thick trunk of a fallen tree ahead, tall enough that you could get a good vantage from the top. You rounded the trunk to get to the other side that was hopefully less covered in moss and easier to climb, and there he was, leaning against it, deceptively causal.
Neteyam.
"Shit", you yelped in surprise and immediately turned to run. You knew you couldn’t outrun him over distance, but you were light and agile, could loose him in the trees if only you could get up there, but he was quicker to react. Neteyam kicked your legs out from under you, tackling you to the ground. The fall knocked the air from your lungs and he immediately dropped his weight onto you, twisting one arm behind your back.
"Caught you, my little numeyu." Irritatingly smug. 
He leaned close and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear and you knew exactly what was about to follow.
"Come on, Neteyam, please", you squirmed, "Let me go."
Footsteps crunched behind a few bushes and before you knew it, your other karyu (teacher) crouched down next to your face and brushed a strand of stray hair behind your ear.
"Too late for that, baby." 
You bared your fangs at Lo‘ak, barely able to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
Both of them then flipped you over, before Neteyam placed your hands near the top of your head, pinned your wrists there with his knees while he bound them together. They were still keeping their thoughts to themselves, but Lo‘aks shit-eating grin wasn't hard to interpret. It caused Neteyam to chuckle, brushing his fingertips over your cheek as he shook his head in disappointment, "Poor thing. You really thought you could outrun us. You have so much left to learn."
You rolled your eyes at him, testing the strength of your restraints once more and Lo‘ak grinned even wider. Neteyam then leaned over you, brought his mouth down rough against yours, hot and slick. His tongue pushed into your mouth and you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss. "I think it’s time we claim our prize for hunting such special prey, don’t you agree?" He spoke against your lips, to which you nodded in agreement, already drunk of lust just from a kiss.
The oldest of the two pulled back, the kiss all too brief and flicked his eyes up to his brother who kneeled between your thighs. "Hold her still, bro", Lo‘ak says to him.
You lift your head up as much as you could to look at him. Lo’ak then bent over you, brushing his lips over yours, licking at your mouth, your chin. He caught your lower lip between his sharp teeth, distracting you from the way he harshly yanked your loincloth off of you. 
Neteyam reached forward and hooked his hands under your knees, and then Lo‘ak was pushing into you, one long steady drive, splitting you open, nestling himself deep inside you. You whined and he moaned with you, the sound rising to a harsh gasp as he drew back and thrust into you harder, smug grin finally sliding from his face as his mouth went slack with pleasure. The younger brother didn’t keep his movement slow for very long, as Neteyam passed your thighs into his arms so he could use them as leverage to fuck you hard and fast and deep, making you cry out with every thrust.
Your own mouth soon fell open too, just to be filled to the brim seconds later when Neteyam pushed his leaking tip past your spit slicked lips.
"That’s right, sevin", he groaned lowly once you snapped out of your lustful haze and started swirling your tongue around his length as best as you could from your current position. "Just like that, fuck." His hips soon begin to move on their own accord, thrusting into the warm wetness of your mouth while his brother seemed to let loose all that pent up adrenaline from chasing you down.
"Shit, baby", Lo‘ak moans, throwing his head back in bliss as he feels your walls squeeze around his length. When he glances back down at you, he’s met with the sight of your pretty pussy creaming around his cock, making a mess where the two of you are fused together. "You’re so tight. So wet for us. Dirty girl, loves being our prey so much she’s drenching my fucking cock", he chuckles.
You make wet sound around Neteyams cock, slurping the salty pre-cum leaking from his tip as if it’s a reward for your efforts. One of his hands tangles itself into your hair then, helping you move your head over his length as he begins to fuck your mouth at a faster pace. Your eyes remain fixed on his, blinking the tears away even as he repeatedly hit the back of your throat. "I won’t last if you keep that up, sevin", he growled, his breathing heavy. "Will you be a good girl and swallow it all for me?"
You hum your response, the vibrations against his cock sending a shiver up his spine and a moan tumbles from his parted lips, alongside whispered curses. The sight alone makes you clench harder around Lo‘ak, both of them seemingly reaching their peak soon while you were also not very far away from your pleasure high.
What sends you over the edge is Neteyams hand reaching between your thighs and rolling your oversensitive clit between two fingers. You cry out around his cock, Lo‘ak fucking you through your orgasm with precision, aiming to hit that sweet spot deep inside you that he knows will make you see stars. They both guide you through that high together, their hands not leaving your skin for even a second until both men loose themselves inside you, filling you with their seed as soft praises and low groans are being whispered between you and them.
Excitement fills every fiber of your being once you’re untied, redressed and sent off to the rest of the group with teasing claps to your ass and a wink by your teachers. Their filthy promises for tomorrow’s lesson about handling knives makes you clench your thighs in anticipation, and you can’t wait for them to turn this lesson into another very personal experience, just for their special little numeyu.
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548 notes · View notes
btsgotjams27 · 9 months
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things you don't know | jjk
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summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.
✨ title: things you don't know | one shot ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: M/17+ ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 4.3k ✨ warnings: language, drinking, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up ✨ prompt: “i thought i’d never see you again” ✨ a/n: heyoooo. so this is loosely based off a friendship i had in high school and in case you're wondering (irl) i haven't seen this man in over 17 years (oh gawd i'm old). anyway, thank you to @shina913 for being my beta.
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✨ mini-series masterlist ✨
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You were a fool to believe nothing could tear you and your best friend apart. Just like in the movies you'd watch for hours, you realized you were not the main character; he was. You were only part of the supporting cast, the best friend–not the one he wanted. Someone else had been occupying his mind, his thoughts, and you guessed you weren't privy to know all of him.
You wondered if you became the villain in his story. Were you the other woman? How could you have known if he never told you? He was your best friend. The one you shared everything with–your hopes, dreams, and even the dumbest little details of your life.
And maybe you expected too much. Maybe you had built a world of sunshine and rainbows and believed no storms could ever weather through. Maybe you cared too much, thinking he felt the same.
But at long last, you had become the girl jealous of Josie–the person who took away your best friend.
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The city you lived in had grown vastly the last time you were here. Multiple lanes were added to the highways, and fields of land were cleared out for new homes, shops, and restaurants to try. Though the only thing on your mind was not bumping into him.
His was the only face you didn't want to run into in a city that felt familiar and unfamiliar. It felt silly. You're a grown woman with a car and an apartment–had bills to pay, and running into one person shouldn't haunt you as it did.
You might have done some detective work, going through old high school friends lists on Facebook and Instagram, lurking to see if he would show up. But as you suspected, he didn't exist on social media, so your chances of seeing him increased in your weird little mind.
The old hangout places were on your no-go list. Remember, you're trying to avoid him. He has not been on your mind every waking second, minute and hour. You weren't wondering how he was doing or if he was okay. He didn't deserve to occupy your mind, take all your energy.
But if you were to bump into him, you had a monologue ready to tell him how he had fucked up your mind, spiked all your insecurities, and hoped he and his stupid little girlfriend lived unhappily ever after. He deserved that, at least.
"Did you see Lillie's Instagram post? The one where a bunch of them were out celebrating Josie's birthday?" Lana asked, sipping on her iced vanilla latte. Lana was another high school best friend who didn't stomp all over your heart.
And regarding Lillie's post, it was hard not to see it when everyone you knew was tagged. Some things never change, you guessed. The same circle of friends, the same drama, the same gossip, but then again, you were sitting with one of your oldest friends.
"Yeah, I saw it."
And you also noticed how Jungkook wasn't in any photos. After doing your detective research and scouring through the internet. He was a ghost, not even showing up in tagged photos. You were hoping to get a glimpse of him in the background, but you hadn't seen a picture of him in years, so you had no idea if he had grown into that big 'ol nose of his or if he had gotten those piercings and tattoos he's always wanted. There was no trace of this man, not even in Josie's pictures.
Last you heard, they were still together, and you always rolled your eyes hard, remembering what Jeon Jungkook did to you. Didn't even have the fucking balls to say it to your face, but in a letter instead.
You suspected it was all Josie's fault. Probably afraid you'd steal him away, or he'd prefer to hang out with you. And you understood, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, just a friend. Ex-best friend, that is. So you supposed any girl that did like Jungkook would be intimidated by your friendship.
"Have you seen Jungkook at all?"
Lana knew what went down–dropping you like a fly, like you didn't exist. She had teased you like a madwoman because you were crushing hard on his friend, Jimin, and somehow ended up befriending Jungkook.
"Nope," you said flatly.
"So, you know how we always talk about Jungkook being untraceable? I think I found him," she said, pulling out her phone.
Your jaw clenched before huffing out a breath. Lana liked to poke the bear when it came to Jungkook. You knew it wasn't intentional, and there was a part that held onto those painful memories because you weren't over what he did to you. Countless nights of questions and if you could've done anything to save your friendship. Wondering what you did wrong and why he picked Josie instead of you. You thought he had feelings and just didn’t want to act on it.
Lana slid the phone over, her two fingers zooming in on a brightened photo. "It's definitely Jungkook," she pointed to a figure in the background.
You narrowed your eyes as she moved the photo around. Your heart skipped a beat. You'd recognize that nose anywhere. It was him. He wasn't a ghost. There was actual evidence that he existed.
"I searched for more photos, but nothing else came up."
You chuckled. "Of course not. Jeon Jungkook doesn't exist on social media. It was never his thing anyway. It was always Josie who liked the attention."
"As a couple, they make no sense to me. What does he see in her anyway?" Lana pondered, sucking up the last of her latte.
Josie was popular and pretty and did every extracurricular activity known to man. Jungkook was quite the opposite: introverted, kept to himself, played games day and night, yet somehow they still ended up together.
"I don't know. Maybe she has a great personality or something," you answered.
She had everything and could’ve had anyone in the senior class, and something always bothered you about their relationship. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.
Lana could see your despair and decided to change the subject. "What are you doing tonight? Jimin is having a small party and was super excited when I told him you moved back."
You narrowed your eyes, your lips thinned. "What are we? In high school again?"
"Come on, babe. It'll be just like old times. I'll even pick you up. I know you hate driving."
It's only been a week since you've moved back. You didn't even know where all of your cute clothes were. "I have nothing to wear." It was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment.
"I got you. Don't worry about it!"
Fuck—you should've opted for a different excuse.
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"I thought you said this was a small party," you said, wearing a dress that was barely covering your ass. You'd get Lana back for putting you in the tightest dress.
"Trust me, this is small." Lana hooked her arm with yours, dragging you to the kitchen, where Jimin poured several soju bottles and sodas into a pitcher. It was quite the concoction.
“How can he afford this place?” you whispered as you stared at the fancy marbled island and large commercial refrigerator.
Lana shrugged. “I don’t think he lives by himself. Probably has roommates or something.”
"Ladies! You're here!" Jimin squealed, setting down the soju bottle. He hugged Lana before greeting you warmly. "Oh—it's so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around you, moving you from side to side, digging his chin into your shoulder.
"It's good to see you too, Jimin. You're, um, still quite the host." His parties were all the rage in high school, and now that you look back, you're unsure what you saw in Jimin. He was a good guy, a great dancer, but he partied too much for your taste. Maybe you were shallow and just liked him for his looks.
"I have a reputation to uphold." He wiggled his eyebrows, handing you a shot glass. "I call this little drink 'Soju Sunrise.'" He held his glass, waiting for you to clink it against his.
"Here goes nothing." The glasses clack together, and the mixed liquids go down your throat as smooth as silk. Surprisingly, the cocktail is rather tasty, and you hold out your glass for another round.
"Yes! That's my girl!"
After multiple rounds of Jimin's Soju Sunrise, your body loosened up along with your tongue, being quite the chatterbox to everyone hanging around. The alcohol coursing through your veins made catching up with old friends less dull. Though you wish you could've had a sign plastered to you stating your job, why you were back, and what you've been up to. It would've made your life simpler.
As you exited the bathroom, Lana immediately pulled you into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind her.
"What the fuck, Lana?"
"He's here!" she exclaimed out of breath.
"Who?" Confusion sets on your face.
“He-who-must-not-be-named!”
"Voldemort?" You raised a brow, pouting your lips together.
She struck your head. You scowled, rubbing the spot. Still confused, you think back to the crowded room.
A lightbulb finally goes off. You blame the Soju Sunrise for making you an airhead. "You've got to be kidding me."
"She's here too."
Oh, how you'd rather be clawing your eyes out right now. It would hurt less than facing Jungkook and Josie after all these years.
You had your little monologue prepared and ready to go, but you didn't think you'd have to recite it. Did you even remember what you wanted to say?
You looked around the room and sprinted when you saw a window. Your hands fumbled with the lock, but it was too hard to open.
"What are you doing?" Lana asked, her eyebrows knitted together, watching you struggle.
"I'm gonna climb out the window." It was the only sensible thing to do.
"You're so fucking dramatic."
"It's the only way to avoid them."
Lana grabbed your arms and made you look at her. "You are a grown-ass woman. Put on your big girl panties and walk out that door with your head held high."
"But I don't wanna," you pout. "And I'm wearing granny panties." You lowered your head, staring at your dress, picturing the blush-colored panties with a little bow on the front.
"Granny panties with this dress?"
"What? I couldn't find other ones and I like full coverage." Curse you for not unpacking like you should've been doing.
"Would've been better if you went commando."
"Lana! I have some dignity."
"Do you, though? You won't even leave this room and face the one person who broke your heart."
"Thanks, Lana," you said flatly.
"You're welcome!" she smiled, shaking your body. "Come on. You can do this. I believe in you." You rolled your eyes, staring blankly at her. She scanned you from head to toe, then back up to your chest. "Sweetie, we gotta make sure your tits are stunning." She dragged down the top of the dress, ensuring the swells of your breasts were peeking through.
"Lana, I'm not trying to seduce the guy." Okay—maybe you developed a crush on him, but it's not like you were going to make a move, he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake.
"Yeah, who cares? We're trying to make Josie jealous."
"This is so high school," you comment, digging through your purse for your lipstick.
"Your point is?" Lana blinked.
You huffed. Okay—fine. If this were the only time you'd see Jeon Jungkook and Kim Josie, then fuck it. You could pretend everything was great for five minutes. Your hand went underneath your dress, tugging off your granny panties and tossing them on the ground.
"Holy shit—going commando too?" Lana squealed and clapped excitedly.
Hiking your dress up just a smidge, you were ready to smile and lie through whatever this dreaded conversation would bring up, probably old feelings of hurt and regret.
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You hooked your arm through Lana's, with your shoulders back and head held high. This was it. After all this time, you would face the son-of-a-bitch who broke your heart and the cruel witch who took him away.
You had class—at least, you hoped you did. So, you'd play it cool, be calm and collected. Pretend like you had your shit together.
That is until you turned the corner and immediately spotted them snuggled up in the corner. Josie looked like a lovesick puppy all over him. Jungkook, not so much.
You clutched Lana's arm tighter and came to a halt. You repeated your short monologue in your brain from the bedroom to the living room, but it was as if your mind had wiped everything and your brain's connectors were short-circuiting.
Your eyes glistened as you watched the two. Josie sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. Your lower lip quivered, and your stomach sank. You weren't sure if you needed to hurl because of them or because of the soju. Perhaps both.
Jungkook pulled away from her grasp, seemingly annoyed by her show of affection. As soon as he turned away from her, his eyes landed on you.
You flashed a small smile and a wave of your hand. Who knew seeing Jungkook would make you feel the complete opposite of the narrative you had created? In your head, he was a heartless best friend who left you for a wicked witch, but here he was in the flesh and was just that big-nosed, doe-eyed boy whom you shared everything with. You missed him so much and wanted to catch up on life like no time had passed.
Lana turned to you. "Hey, what happened to the bad bitch persona? Aren't you gonna tell him off?"
"I'm so stupid, Lana. I can't do this." So much anger had been building up within the last seven years, but underneath that anger was just a girl who was heartbroken.
Lana nudged you in the ribs. You two watched as he pushed Josie off his lap, causing her to frown. You attempted to let go, but she pulled you in as Jungkook beelined toward you.
"Oh, my god! Jeon Jungkook in the flesh?" Lana said in a dramatic tone. "You do exist! I can't believe it. Well, I'm going to find myself another drink! Have fun catching up with your bestie!" She punched Jungkook's shoulder hard, and he scowled and flinched, massaging the spot.
You pressed your lips together, unsure what to say to him. It's been seven years since you last saw him. Once you graduated from high school, you were out of each other's hair. You were off to college a few hours away, and he stayed in town to attend a local university.
Jungkook cut off all forms of communication. It was like your friendship ceased to exist, which hurt you the most. The last thing you received from him was a measly little letter explaining that he was with Josie and that she didn't want you coming in between their relationship.
You couldn't understand why Jungkook couldn't just talk to you. Josie was never mentioned in conversations, nor did you see him with her, so it felt out of left field. If Jungkook told you he liked someone, you'd never stand in the way of his happiness. You thought he knew you better than that, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't know each other at all.
"I thought I'd never see you again," Jungkook said, the corners of his mouth curving into a warm smile.
You only paid attention to the glow-up Jungkook had. He did get the lip piercings he wanted, along with the tattoos. You could see them peeking through underneath his gray hoodie hanging off his shoulder. The white tank top defined his taut chest, letting you know he liked to work out. His damp hair curled in all the right places against the nape of his neck and his forehead. The silver chain adorning his neck looked pretty enough to tug on.
"You look great, by the way," Jungkook added, breaking you out of your daze.
"Oh, thanks. So do you." You manage to squeak out finally; then you remember how provocative you looked in your dress compared to sweet, innocent, looking Josie in her pink floral sundress, who was making their way toward you.
"Jungkook, can we please get a drink?" Josie whined, giving you the once over before latching onto Jungkook like the leech she was.
"You remember—"
Josie interrupted, "Yeah–don't remind me. Can we go?"
Josie stormed off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Did he have any say in their relationship, or did she tug him around like a puppy on a short leash?
You're stunned but not surprised by her remark. Once a bitch, always a bitch.
Turning your attention back to him, you realize you have nothing to say. The scars from this friendship were carved deeply into your heart; not even the monologue you rehearsed could dissipate the pain he caused.
"I—I gotta go," you said, taking off toward the bedroom because you couldn't fucking leave your underwear on a random stranger's floor. You had to save whatever dignity you had left.
"Wait—" He tried to grab your attention and followed you, walking through the hallway toward a room. He watched you go from one end of the room to the other, searching for something. "What are you doing in my room?"
You straighten your posture, slowly turning to him. "This is your room?"
"Yeah, Jimin and I share this place along with another friend.”
Oh, now you were going to fucking kill Lana. She knew. She must have! That's why she wanted to bring you here. And out of all the rooms, you had to pick Jeon Jungkook’s to leave your underwear in?
"Great," you said in exasperation. You turned back around in search of your panties. "Where the fuck is it?" It could only be in so many places.
"Where's what?"
You got down on your hands and knees, tugging your dress down, looking underneath the bed for your granny panties. "Nothing," you grumbled. "Fuck it. Forget it." You stood, walking past Jungkook. He could have your underwear as a keepsake, you suppose.
"Hey—" He gripped your arm. "Come on. This is how you greet me after all this time?"
You scoffed, glaring at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right? You're lucky I'm even speaking to you. You don't even deserve that."
He lets go of your arm. "We kind of ended on a sour note, but it wasn't my fault."
He couldn't see it, but smoke was fuming from your ears, and you wished your death glare could burn through him and maybe even through Josie. How fucking dare he put all the blame on you? And for what exactly? You might add that you did nothing but be his friend, and he ghosted you like you meant nothing to him.
"So it's my fault?" You assumed he was placing the blame on you. "How is it my fault? Please enlighten me, Jungkook."
He quieted down, cowering his head.
"You showed up holding hands with Josie, then proceeded to not talk to me like a human being and instead wrote me a fucking letter like the coward you are. A letter, for fucks sake. You could've had the common decency to say it to my face."
You walked out of language class, and there they were, hand in hand as you idly watched from behind. And he didn’t even hand you the letter. He had stuffed it in your locker.
Your words took him aback. His recount of how everything went down was different from yours. "I'm sorry," he said. His eyes flicked to yours before looking away.
"Well, it's too fucking late for apologies."
Jungkook called out to you, and you didn't look back, storming away from him. You passed by Lana, telling her you were leaving and that you'd talk to her later.
You ran out the front door, stopping at the sidewalk's edge, remembering that Lana drove. "Fuck," you grumbled, pulling out your phone to grab an Uber.
You were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook wouldn't affect you after all these years. Maybe it's because you haven't dealt with feeling abandoned by him. Maybe you wished you did more for your friendship. Whatever the reason, you knew moving back wasn't a good idea because you’d have to deal with this.
"Hey!" Jungkook called out. You looked over your shoulder and continued walking. He ran in front of you to grab your attention. "Can you talk to me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
"Why don't you fucking write me a letter? Since you're so good at that," you mocked as you shuffled around him. He was a shitty writer who could barely pass Creative Writing without your help.
"That's not fair."
You scoffed, stopping in your tracks to turn back to him. "Run back to your little girlfriend. Don’t you have to get her approval first before talking to me?"
"She's not my girlfriend."
You tut. "Yeah–okay." That was hard to believe, considering she was all over him.
"She's not. We haven't been together for a while now," Jungkook explained.
"You looked pretty cozy earlier."
Jungkook looks at the ground, kicking around an invisible rock. "It's complicated."
"That's great, Jungkook, but I really don't want to hear about your relationship problems. Good luck with Josie and in life. You two deserve each other." You pulled out your phone to see if the Uber was arriving.
Crossing your arms, you walked back toward Jimin's place. You wish you pinned the pick-up location somewhere else, but you'd have to endure his presence longer.
Jungkook followed, giving you some space, stopping when you did. His eyes raked over you. His dimple appeared and disappeared as he licked his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek.
"When you got your acceptance letter to college, and you decided you were leaving, you didn't bother to ask about what I thought," he said, hands still in his pocket, staring at the ground. Your eyes flickered to him before looking away. He softly chuckled, "I thought to myself, what would I do without my best friend? I had nothing going for me, didn't even know what I wanted to do—still don't know what I want to do. And as much as you make me out to be the bad guy in your story, there are a lot of things you don't know."
You turned away from him as your eyes began to well up. You didn't want to cry before him, rehashing things from so long ago. You let out a shaky breath, trying to contain your emotions.
"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, using the back of your hand to wipe away the snot threatening to fall.
He shrugged. "I don't know. I would never want to keep you from something that made you happy," he admitted.
You were always open with each other, so you're unsure why this one thing made it seem like he couldn't be honest with you.
"Tell me one thing."
Jungkook hummed.
"Why didn't you tell me about Josie?" It was the one question that lingered since you received his letter.
His lips thinned. "Honestly?" You nodded. "It all happened so quickly. Jimin was throwing a party that night when you told me about going off to college, and I was in my head, overthinking everything. And Josie was there, being sweet and comforting me, and I don't know what came over me. I just kissed her to make myself feel better. Then, the next day at school, she took my hand and told everyone we were together."
"So, let me get this straight? I told you I'm going off to college. You get upset, kiss Josie because you were mad about me leaving, and then end up in a relationship with her?"
"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."
You turned to him, hitting him across the chest several times. He held his hands up to block you. "Because Jeon Jungkook, it is ridiculous! God–you're such—a—" you groaned. "Do you know how much you hurt me? We could've avoided all this if you had just talked to me. Life could've been different for us. You could've come with me, and then we could've been together."
"Together?" He stared at you with his starry brown eyes.
"Yes, you dummy! I liked you, if you couldn't tell. I was going to tell you, but then you and Josie happened, and well, you know how the rest of the story goes."
You closed your eyes and let out a long-awaited breath. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, getting all this out in the open. You weren't expecting Jungkook to do anything to make you feel better, but at least he could hear what you wanted to say after all these years.
Your uber pulled up and you opened the door, holding onto it as you looked at Jungkook. A glimpse of the boy you once knew still lingered in his eyes. If you could go back and do it all over again, you would've fought harder for him, fought for what the two of you had. It was too precious of a friendship to let go just like that. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way.
There were no forms of time travel or alternate dimensions where the two of you could've lived happily ever after, and there were only the choices you made here and now.
"Bye, Jungkook."
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✨ read part two | read part three ✨
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patrophthia · 8 months
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Hey beeeeeeee!!!
Decided to join the 1k followers eventtt!! Oh and congrats on 1k!!
Can I request a Theodore Nott x fem!reader fic based on the prompt "but... I thought you loved me" fluff pls
Sorry if it's super vague xx Thank youuu!!
ps: happy endinggg
Love you and your work 😍
HI BABES!!!! thank you for sending this end and im sorry it took so long ive been a bit busy with school work!! but here it is!!
thought you loved me | theodore nott
pairing: theodore nott x reader
genre: fluff, established relationship, just crack/humor, chaotic reader!
part of my 1k followers event !
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You're weird. Not in a way where you'd randomly stand up on a table and scream weird. But more like convincing people that you were your boyfriend and him you weird. Like asking Theodore if he'd like to drink Polyjuice portions and switch bodies with you for a day just for the shit and giggles weird. 
He thought he knew what he signed up for when he started dating you but it seemed like you find new ways to surprise him everyday. 
The two of you are standing in the middle of a shop, looking over all the ingredients one would need for the Polyjuice with a hovering hand over each container. "Why not?" 
"Because it's ridiculous," he says easily. "Not to mention the potion is extremely time consuming to brew." 
"If you're worried about that then I'd do all the work," you tell him, "just give me a hair then spend the day with me as me!" 
He tries to be stern. "Baby," he says first, trying to soften the blow; Theodore wasn't the biggest on pet names only ever using it to convince you to not do something stupid. "No." 
"No?" You repeated after him. "But I thought you loved me?" 
You're evil. You're weird and evil. For you to play with his heart knowing full well he'd give in to because of such simple words is just plain evil. "I do love you, just not enough to let you freely walk in my body."
Your brows furrows, you absentmindedly handing over a basket of ingredients into Theodore hands. "Why not?"
"Cause I know you." He takes it without a word. "You'd probably sign me up for something time consuming and I'd have to spend the rest of year with it." 
Okay. Fair point. If given the chance you'd probably —definitely— do something like that if you'd found it funny enough to do. "Okay," you sigh, feigning upset. "If you didn't love me just say that." 
"Babyyy." Theodore whines. He actually whines. Because he's so love with you and he knows that once you've set your mind on something, you were going to get it no matter what you had to do. "I love you, I just don't want to be you." 
"Oh so now you hate me too?" You scoff, biting back a laugh when Theodore shuts his eyes at your words. "I see how it is." 
He opens one eye back up, peeking at you. Your eyes meet, the corner of his lips curving upwards as did yours. "Fine," he says finally, "I'll drink your stupid potion." 
You don't have enough time to celebrate when he adds: "but I'm brewing the thing myself. I love you but I'd rather not die because you brewed it improperly." 
And seeing that Theodore was the top of the class in potions, who were you to disagree with your very intelligent boyfriend?
744 notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 1 year
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false confessions | azriel
summary; you overhear azriel say something, and try to cooperate. word count; 4595 notes; based on this ask, that I got a little carried away with!
"I love her, I really do." Az sighed, your heart swelling a little as you listened from where you were perched within the library, Nesta at your side. When you'd heard the men come in, you'd been intent on going to see your mate, but they'd been talking, Cassian had been deep into a story about him and Nesta, and your friend had been adamant about hearing it out. So, you'd let her grab your wrist, sneaking the two of you deeper into the library, hiding away between the shelves where even Azriel's shadows had not bothered to slip away and investigate. 
"But?" Rhysand prompted, your heart skipping a beat in your chest at the pause that followed, the silence seeming to drag on. 
"But... she's so clingy sometimes." Azriel exhaled the words on a breath, and Cassian snickered a little in response. "I just- sometimes I want my peace and quiet, and it just feels like whenever we're together, she's right on top of me at home, we never just.. do our own thing."
Your stomach twisted, and Nesta's fingers tightened around your wrist as she was still gripping it. All playfulness was gone, though. She let go a second later, straightening up and brushing down her skirts primly, pausing only when you grasped her in response, shaking your head. You knew that your friend would defend you to the ends of the earth if you asked, but you didn't want her to. This wasn't her problem, or anyone else's, it was yours. 
You were spinning, mind feeling like it was going a million miles an hour, the way it felt to fly home with Azriel when drunk after a night at Rita’s, while your stomach twisted the way it did the morning after said nights out. You weren’t sure where this problem had come from, up until now, you’d always thought Azriel liked the affectionate side of you, the part that just couldn't get enough of him. Clearly, that was not the case.
Your eyes tracked the movements of Azriel's shadows as they slithered out further, lazily, but inching ever closer to you and Nesta's position. Slowly, in an attempt not to get caught at all, you snuck backwards, taking her with you. Manoeuvring through the stacks, you stayed hidden, the two of you slipping out through the back exit and unseen, and in silence. 
Only once their voices had entirely faded and you were slowing your pace between the twists and turns of the corridors did Nesta finally let a loud and obscene curse slip from her lips. "I'm gonna' kick ten tons of shit out of them all."
"No." The word was icy on your tongue, and her head snapped to you, You gave a soft wince in apology. "I'm not mad at him."
"What? Why not?" 
"Because.. he's right. I am clingy, I just thought he liked that. I thought he liked when we were together, I never sensed anything otherwise down the bond, perhaps he's just good at hiding it. But, you heard him, he doesn't like it, so it's down to me to stop." You shrugged, but it didn't stop the stinging in your throat, and you slammed up walls at your end of the bond, hoping the hurt beginning to build hadn't yet leaked across to reach him. 
"What I heard," Nesta muttered, ice on her own voice as her arms crossed angrily over her chest, "was my mate chuckling his smug little ass off at the comment. Jerk. He can sleep in another bed tonight." She was equally as angry, on your behalf, and you grinned a little at the affection she displayed for you. 
"You don't have to do that."
"It's for me. He doesn't get to gossip about things like this behind my back. I wonder how many things I have done that irritate him that he's never told me, simply choosing to whine about it to those other bats." She hissed the word out like an insult, and you couldn't find fault in her logic. "I'd bet Feyre would agree."
"Would agree with what?" You both jumped, rather violently, approaching the dinner hall where said sister was sitting comfortably, a sketchbook and some charcoals out in front of herself, brows raised. Nesta didn't hesitate, stalking across the room and offering her daemati sister her hand. Brushing off charcoal on her skirt, she took it gently, gasping a second later after replaying the memory. "Those... those jerks!”
“That’s what I said!” Nesta burst, hands on her hips, and only the soft cooing of her nephew was enough to replace the scowl she wore with a slight smile. Your attention remained fixed on Feyre as she processed the covert conversation you’d secretly witnessed.
“No wonder Rhys locked me out, I didn't think much of it, boy talk, but this kind of boy talk?" She frowned, offering a sympathetic look your way, and the solidarity of your friends made you feel that much better. You rubbed your temples, swallowing again thickly, the weight of it all beginning to bring you down a little. "Fey, can you just take me home?"
"Of course, Nesta will watch Nyx for a moment, right?" His auntie was already leaning over his bassinet, tapping the tip of his nose teasingly as the baby babbled happily in return. With a hand in hers, Feyre took you home, a warm hug and a chastising word about their behaviour, her parting gift, before leaving you alone in the house belonging to you and your mate. 
The house was quiet when you were alone, the middle of the day meaning you would be alone for quite a while yet, leaving you plenty of time to decide on your course of action. You glanced around, somehow feeling out of place within your own home. It all felt.. different, somehow.
Were you mad? No, only sad, and so retaliation didn't seem fair. 
Sure, you were upset he'd talk to his friends about it rather than simply tell you, but Azriel had always struggled with 'talking about it', and had never wanted to hurt you. Emotionally inept at times, perhaps this was simply his way of trying to protect your feelings. A conversation you were never supposed to hear, a hurt you were never supposed to feel, because your mate was simply putting up with it to let you feel better. 
You couldn’t have that. This relationship wasn’t supposed to be about secret sacrifices, it was supposed to be about trust and love and mutual respect. You’d sworn it when finding out you were mates, and sworn it again at the ceremony, and you tried to hold it up every day. Azriel wanted to spare your feelings, and now, you’d spare his, too.
It was hours before he returned, and you’d found yourself slipping back into your regular routine, making everything feel normal again by sticking to what you knew. You were unloading ingredients, cooking a comfort meal for yourself, when your mate returned home.
You first caught the tell-tale sign of feet hitting the ground outside from the sky, then steps got closer and closer up the pathway, before finally, the door opening and closing.
By the time you heard him taking off his boots and hanging up his coat, you'd found it within yourself to muster a reasonably convincing smile, and shake away any lingering thoughts about it. You are doing this for Azriel, to make him happy, to love him the way he’d loved you for years, without ever telling you. Your body twitched, aching to move to him like you always did, to greet him at the door with a kiss, with a hug, with something, and you firmly rooted your feet to the ground. After a pause, clearly anticipating what you now realised was an unwanted overload of affection, Azriel left the entry, stepping through the large open-arc into the kitchen. 
"Hello, my love.." You only smiled, ignoring the curious tone in his voice, brushing your hands down the front of your apron. "What have you been up to today?"
"I saw Nesta." 
"Oh?" He paused by your side, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, and you tipped your face to the side receiving it, but made no move for more the way you usually would. 
"She gave me a couple of new books, and said she’d return the other ones." You only hoped he simply hadn't noticed that the book pile on the coffee table had not, in fact, changed at all. He didn't glance over, and you moved away, to the food laid out ready to be prepared for dinner. 
"Are you alright, my love? You don't seem quite like yourself, tonight.”
You redirected your glance to the vegetables, only nodding in response, and taking a deep breath to force another smile. "I'm just fine, don't worry, just a little tired today."
He lingered for a second, before nodding himself, offering a smile in return, and a flush of reassuring love down the bond. You let it in, letting it warm you from the inside out. So, this is what he wanted, he had noticed and was already responding better. It was both relieving and painful. He rolled up his sleeves, taking another step closer to you. "What are we making? What can I do to help?"
"Not a thing, I've got it here, don't worry." His head shot up, brows furrowing once again, and your hand almost reached out, wishing to smooth that spot between on his face that had wrinkled with the frown. He noticed this time, the slight raise of your hand before you lowered it. 
"But, I thought you liked it when we cooked together? You said you like how I can tell you about my day, while we make dinner." It's true, you had said that, but that was just another one of the events you'd forced upon him, wasn't it? Another act where he wanted to do his own thing, but was instead beholden to your wishes.
"I do, but we don't have to cook together every night. I'm fine here, I was just in my thoughts, is all. You could tell me about your day while we eat?” A flash of hurt travelled across his face, as though you were rejecting him, and so it was your turn to send a pulse of love down the bond to him. He tugged in response, pulling a smile from you, a real one, the way it always did when he did that. 
With a kiss placed on your forehead, he left in silence a moment later. Not long after, his footsteps were on the stairs, bath filling in the bathroom, and you let out a sigh at his absence. 
He returned in time for dinner, one of his shadows had been left behind, not-so-subtly lingering near the chopping boards to monitor you, and so you'd been careful about making sure to seem positively chipper until he returned. He helped carry everything through to the table, commenting gently under his breath about how good it all looked, and you thanked him as you poured wine, letting him serve food for you both onto your respective plates. 
Taking opposite seats, the lull lasted not a full second, before Azriel was diving right into a spirited recap of his day:
"Rhysand and Cassian are in the doghouse." You almost slipped with your wine glass as you took a nerve-soothing sip, and Azriel was smirking as he chopped his chicken up, lifting a piece on his fork to his lips, awaiting your response. 
"Oh? And why is that?" You followed suit, hoping your tone didn't give it away, already knowing exactly why they were upset. All three of you had felt a little betrayed by their conversation behind your backs. 
"Not a clue. All I know is that after we finished our discussion, Nesta and Feyre wanted nothing to do with either. Rhys was all 'Feyre, darling, I was thinking we could catch dinner on the Sidra tonight, I made a reservation'," Azriel mocked his best friend's voice, and genuine laughter spilt from you, his eyes glittering a little and the bond between you humming once again. "And then Feyre said 'I was thinking I'd rather spend the evening with anyone else, right now, actually'. He was speechless. As were Cass and I." 
He was so excited to share the gossip, like it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened, and the thought that perhaps this wouldn't be so hard crossed your mind. The same Azriel, the same you, just with less.. togetherness. Less touching. Perhaps, it would even make the times together and the touches even more special than you'd always thought they were. "And Cassian?"
"Even worse. He was in the midst of laughing at Rhys' shocked face when Nesta all but removed his balls in front of us." He took a swig of his wine, and you placed a piece of chicken into your mouth, excited to hear just how she'd unleashed that anger she'd been holding when you'd last seen her. "She said, 'oh, laugh it up, bat boy. See how much you're laughing when you're laying in bed alone tonight, nothing but your right hand to keep you company'."
That made your jaw drop, Azriel's deep laughter permeating the air at your reaction, and you felt proud of your friend, even if you did feel a little bad for Cassian. That's what they get for complaining behind their mates' backs instead of being honest. 
"So, Feyre then proceeded to thank Rhysand for the reservation, take both Nyx and Nesta and winnow away without another word. Presumably to said reservation for a lovely sisterly dinner." Az shrugged, turning back to his food, and you sipped at your wine. Good for them. "When I left, Rhys and Cass were grumbling at the dinner table, trying to work out what they'd done wrong."
That sent a pang of pain shooting back through your chest, but you quickly suppressed it, beginning to tell him all about your own day, and your suddenly-made plans to go shopping instead of sitting at home with him all day tomorrow. He didn't object, only encouraged you. 
After dinner, with plates cleared away and wine glasses refilled, you'd both moved to the living room, a quiet night planned as he settled onto the couch, book in hand, opening his action-packed thriller to the page he'd left off at as you stoked the fire idly, stocking a few more logs on. 
When there was nothing more you could do to it, you stood, brushing down your skirts and leaving the room, not missing the trail of his eyes after you, or the sweep of one of his shadows, trying to curl around your ankle as you hurried through the house and up the stairs. You had planned to simply settle into bed, let your mind spin and wander, but with his watchful little trick giving you it's full-attention, you were forced to move through your preparations for bed, and follow its lead when it wrapped itself around your wrist, tugging you back downstairs. 
When you returned, Azriel's glass was empty, book still open, but his gaze was on the doorway as you walked through it. "Where'd you go?"
"I thought I'd prepare for bed before reading tonight, seeing as I'm so tired, that way I can get in bed as soon as the need arises." Your hands locked in front of yourself, and dipped his head in a gesture toward your book pile. 
"Will you sit with me and read for a while, then?"
"Of course." What were you supposed to do, say no? You were giving him space, but when he asked you to stay, who were you to deny it? Picking up the book from the top of the pile, you settled down into the large armchair on one side of the table, perpendicular to the couch Azriel sat on. As you opened your book, his snapped shut, and he let out a rough sigh. 
"What are you doing?"
"I'm reading." You teased, waving your book at him, but he was not in such a playful mood, it seemed. 
"I see that. Why are you doing it over there?"
You faltered. What now? Confess to hearing him, or continue to spare his feelings the way he had been sparing yours for years. The choice seemed clear. "Sitting closer to the fire, so I don't get cold."
"You never get cold, because you sit with me. You sit here, and if you get cold, I wrap a wing around you, and you get that cute little blush on your face and make one of those jokes about Illyrians being built warmer for those 'damn cold mountains'. So, why are you sitting over there?"
Busted. You worried your lower lip, trying to decide exactly what to say, but he beat you to it, his face crumpling a little as realisation washed over him. 
"You heard us in the library." It wasn't a question, no, it was a statement. A fact, he knew it. Your mate was far too intelligent and deductive for his own good, sometimes. He put down his book, crossing the room in a flash, and removing yours from your hold too. He slipped down to one knee before you, grasping your hands in his, and he gaped for a few moments, no words coming. "I didn't mean it," was what he settled on. 
"'Course you did, Az. It's okay." You squeezed his hands lightly, and he gripped back firmer, like you might pull away from him if he didn't hold on. "I was a little upset to know you'd rather tell your friends than simply tell me if something I was doing was bothering you, but you're allowed to be bothered by things."
"No, I didn't mean it, my love. Please, don't take it to heart." There was a pleading under his voice, like he thought this might drive a wedge between you both, and you pried one hand free to sit comfortingly over his cheek. His head tipped into the touch. 
"Az, it's okay, really. Not everything is always going to be perfect between us, but in future, if I do something you don't like, just tell me, okay?"
"No, no, no.." He was panicking now, so much so that the fear was beginning to ripple down the bond, you couldn't just hear it in his voice but feel it ricocheting through your own chest. Cold, like shards of ice. "Everything is perfect, and that is the problem. Rhys was complaining about all the changes with Nyx. About how he loves his son so much, but lately, Feyre hasn't even wanted to touch him, and she's had such mood swings because of the sleepless nights, he's frazzled. One minute she's coming onto him, the next she's snapping at him because he didn't kiss her just right. Cassian was complaining because Nesta is so fiercely independent and he loves it, but when all that overprotective side of him kicks in and she snaps at him for going full-Cass-mode on her, he hates it. He wishes sometimes she'd just let him clean her wounds and treat her gently."
You didn't know quite what to say, confusion filling you, and he pressed on, pushed a little closer, never letting your gaze slip from his, holding you captive with it.
"Then they were looking at me, like I was supposed to say something, anything. Like, they'd been vulnerable about things they couldn't tell their mates without feeling embarrassed, as though it was my turn. I couldn't think of anything, because, baby, everything is perfect. All I wanted to say was, 'can't relate, Rhysand; maybe one day but not today. Can't relate Cassian; my girl protects me as much as I protect her, we fuss over each other'. I didn't want to upset them, and I realised what they wanted was clingy, the kind of clingy we have, the kind of clingy I love. So, I tried to tell them it wasn't all it seemed, so they'd feel better."
His thumbs soothed over your knuckles, the only sounds between you being the popping of the fire and the ticking of the large clock, until you sighed. He leaned down, kissing the hand still clutched in his own, before twisting to press a kiss to the palm on his cheek before you could retract it. 
"It damn near broke my heart when you didn't greet me at the door tonight. It's my favourite part of getting up in the morning, knowing that when I come home, you'll come flying into my arms, and show me so much love, a kind of love I never thought I'd have. But you didn't, you said you were fine, though. I worried you were mad at me, too. You didn't want to cook together, I hated that, because I like being part of the things you like. You didn't kiss me, you haven't kissed me all night, I miss it. I miss it so much. You didn't hold my hand at dinner, and now you won't sit with me. I'm worried, my love. I'm scared, you have to believe me."
He raised his free hand, sitting it tenderly over your jaw, just like you did for him, swiping his thumb delicately back and forth across your cheekbone. It was an act you adored so much, something he knew brought you peace and comfort, and at this moment, it was doing just that. You could feel the fear in his words as it echoed in your chest, the desperation as he waited for your response. Lifting the hand from his cheek, his gaze tracked the movement, watching your hand hover for a split second over his head. He didn't let the half-second become a full one. He took your hand, lacing it into his hair where it had been headed, your fingernails scratching over his scalp in the soothing way he loved so much. 
"Always touch me. Never hesitate. I don't care if we're at dinner or on a battlefield, but your touch, your attention, your love is everything. Never stop." His eyes fluttered closed in bliss, but he was still tense. "Just say you forgive me."
"I do not, because there's nothing to forgive." His breath hitched at the beginning of your sentence, eyes snapping open wide, and you leaned forward to rest your forehead on his. "Next time, come up with something that's not going to hurt my feelings, even if I shouldn't be eavesdropping."
He smirked at that, nose brushing yours and he laughed breathily. "Next time, I'm just going to take the teasing and let them know how utterly fucking hard in love I am."
"Well, that works too." You smiled, before he was sitting up more, raising from his one knee and pressing his hands underneath your body. "What are you doing?"
"Moving you so we can sit together."
"I'll just come to the couch-"
"Won't be close enough, now." He muttered, scooping you up enough to settle into the wing-designed chair, and situating you sideways across his lap as your eyes rolled. He left a soft bite to your covered shoulder in response. "Don't roll your eyes at me, you had me freaking out. I thought you weren't going to forgive me. I thought you weren't going to.. to be the you that I love, anymore.."
"Yes, well, that's over now." You leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose for emphasis, but uncertain eyes found yours again.
"You mean it?"
"I do." You pressed another kiss to his jaw, fingernails moving back to rake through the thick black hair on the top of his head.
"You'll greet me at the door tomorrow with a kiss?" Mm-hm. "You'll let me cook with you?" Your lips moved up to his cheek, nuzzling there sweetly as you left little pecks across his skin, mm-hm. "You'll hold my hand at the table, and play footsie, and you'll curl up on the couch with me after?" Mm-hm, your kisses reached the corner of his mouth, and you felt it twitch into a smile underneath your lips. "You'll cuddle with me in bed tonight?"
"And every other night, for the rest of our lives." 
Something akin to adoration raced through your chest, filling every part of you. Despite his pink-tinged cheeks, Azriel was confident in his requests, hazel eyes shining as he looked at you. "And you'll kiss me, you'll hold me, every time you want to. Promise me, you'll never hide your affection from me, promise me you'll show me your love for as long as you feel it for me?"
"As long as you promise the same to me." He nodded, vehemently, sealing the deal with an urgent kiss, and you felt a tingling mark forming on the back of your neck, alongside the mating bond you'd made together so many years ago. Another promise formed, to be held forever. 
His lips worked against your own, fingers slipping from where they sat on your cheek to smooth up, no longer running his fingers gently along your jaw but tracing soft tips over the patch on your neck. His lips became a smile in the kiss, teasing and sweet, a breathy sound slipping from you as he nipped at your lower. 
“We should go upstairs.” He whispered, and your arms looped around his neck, prepared for the movement that was so come as he began to shuffle toward the edge of the seat. Raising with you in his arms, he walked a path he was familiar with, your lips beginning to trace his cheekbone the way his thumb had yours moments prior, when a sudden thought crossed your mind. You gasped, sitting up stock straight and Azriel paused at the base of the stairs, brows raising, half-lidded eyes attempting to focus at your reaction. “What is it, my love?”
“We.. we have to go and tell Nesta and Feyre we worked things out.” Azriel stared for a moment, before a blinding grin was splitting across his face. It was more than a smile, it was amused and cheeky and youthful in a way he rarely showed, only in moments like this where the two of you were truly alone, when he let himself be vulnerable. A deep chuckle followed, before he was moving again, climbing the stairs with you in his arms, smile becoming a smirk. 
“So you’re the reason my brothers are in such trouble, huh?” He leaned down, nipping at the shell of your ear as he backed his way into your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind himself. Dropping you down onto the bed, enough to be able to crawl toward you as you backed up into the pillows, he didn’t let up with the wicked stare. “Let it be, we can tell them tomorrow. Consider tonight a punishment for complaining.”
“Were you not technically part of that conversation, Az? Should you not also be punished?” Your words held no threat, and he knew it too, because he only dipped his head down once he was supporting himself above you. His lips dragged over your skin, up from your chin to the shell of your ear, only to whisper;
“Oh, I think I've been punished enough for tonight. I can come up with some much more fun things for us to do..”
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Objects in Motion
Part 1
Alpha! Billy Russo x Omega! Reader
A/N: My very first A/B/O fic, that I started a while ago, and just decided to post.
It all started after finding out how much that lovely coat Billy wears in s1 costs.
Warnings: Masturbation, omega in heat.
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You’re often overwhelmed.
It’s the hitch of your breath when your feelings are too big for your body, or the way your throat hurts with all the words that go unsaid.
There are not enoughs and there are too muchs and hardly any moments when things are… just right.
The coat in your hands is soft- ridiculously so, the label offers you an explanation- 100% cotton. You can't help the way your hands tighten on the material, as if you’d fight off anyone that tried to take it from you. Like for the first time, just right isn’t just a far away idea, it’s here, in your hands, against your chest.
How had you ended up here? Curled under your bed sheets, pillows all around you, clutching this lovely black coat to your body?
Today had been very overwhelming, your phone had pinged, alerting you to your impending heat, reminding you that you needed to pick up supplies. 
Your heats were formidable too, always too hot or too hungry or too needy. There was never a part of you that existed within the realms of fine.
At least until now.
When you were clutching this delightful black coat in your hands, bringing it up to your nose so that you could catch a whiff of the bewitching scent. 
It's bergamot at first, followed by notes of citrus that makes your eyes flutter shut. Delight spreads out inside you, fanning at the flames of your desire- your heat coming on faster as your nose lingers on the scent. You catch hints of pepper at the very end and it prompts you to take another long inhale.
Based on the size of the coat, your mind formulates an idea of the size of the person that wears it. The very thought causes you to clench your thighs together.
You didn't mean for this to happen, you'd only gone to pick up your silky PJs from the dry cleaners, designed specifically to be worn during your heat for maximum comfort on your skin. The delicate, gossamer material demanded special care, but you were very glad to have been gifted them some years ago.
You'd just picked up your item, when your nose had zeroed in on a scent that had made your body perk up curiously. It was the first time your senses had streamlined onto one thing, where throughout the day you'd had a number of difficult sensory encounters, leading you into wearing a beanie and noise cancelling headphones and the biggest jacket in your closet in any attempt to feel less things. The scent had made your brain ache for more, demanding you follow what your body had accepted- that this specific scent brought you absolute pleasure.
Even through the garment bag it was stored in, it had activated dangerous thoughts in your hindbrain, and before you could even look around for cameras, you'd reached over the counter and swiped the garment bag when the girl at the front desk wasn't looking. It had been tucked to your chest and smuggled out of the dry cleaners without even a moment of guilt.
Realistically, you wouldn't be in that much trouble anyway, omega behaviour was usually forgiven, even if it didn't make sense. No one would lock you up for swiping a men's coat, especially not so close to your heat.
You have a few hours left, and you use it to make sure your food supplies are easily accessible. Your heats tended to run on for five days- higher than average- which means that you were in a lot more danger of starvation and dehydration.
You wonder if he would take good care of you. Your mind spinning back to the owner of the coat, having already made up some basic idea of him.
You knew his designation, by scent alone, but you were too afraid to admit it to yourself, worried about the consequences of having stolen a coat from someone like that.
Would they be mad? Probably not, you were sure with a scent like that, they were used to omegas swarming around.
The thought made you unreasonably jealous, for a person you didn’t even know.
.
Your heat hits you in the early hours of the next morning. 
You wake with a whine, sitting up, thighs damp with your arousal. You reach for the pills on your bedside table, taking them quickly and swallowing down some tepid water, before lying back. They would help you go back to sleep until morning alleviating some symptoms of your heat. You turn, finding the coat lying beside you. You take a deep breath into it as you fall asleep.
.
You can’t focus on anything as you pump the slick pink dildo in and out of you. There are tears streaming down your face, desperate for much more than you could ever give yourself. 
You bring the coat up to your nose, crying harder as the scent wraps around you.
“Alpha.” You pant into the soft material, imagining your fantasy version of the owner. 
You take a deep breath, envisioning him here with you, presumably large body curved over yours, taking up all the air around you, smooth skin available for you to scratch and claw at, his scent glands on display and eager for your mark.
“Alpha.” You beg again, into the loneliness of your apartment.
.
The coat becomes a centerpoint in your nest.
On day three when it’s fully finished to a satisfactory level, an arrangement of pillows and sheets all around your bed, you tuck the coat in beside you, delighted at the way the material feels on your flushed skin.
The scent is strongest at the collar, where it's probably rubbed on his neck often, brushed against his gland when he turns to examine something.
You groan, mouth watering for a bite of him, whoever he was.
There’s a lot of buttons and buckles on it, and your hindbrain is somewhat obsessed with what you think he looks like wearing it, probaby commands any room he walks into. 
The label at the back says Burberry, and though you're not very familiar with the brand, the clean stitching and soft material tells you that it’s definitely got to cost more than what you pay for your own coats.
You sigh, stripping out of your PJ’s and opting to slide into the coat itself.
A groan slips from your mouth, the material feels coarse on your oversensitive skin, but you welcome it as you feel his scent engulf you.
A fresh wave of arousal coats your thighs, and you can’t help inching your hand down between damp thighs until you find your swollen clit.
.
On your knees now, face down into your bed, you bite down on the collar of the midnight black coat.
Your eyes roll back into your head, muffled grunts as you pump your overstimulated cunt to the brim.
You rub your face into the collar, arching your neck so that your scent gland rubs against the coat, a low whine at the severe taboo thought of rubbing your gland against a stranger's.
It's frowned upon, but the very thought of it is what brings you to orgasm just a few moments later. 
You struggle for air, hair tickling your cheek as you huff, some of it clings to the saliva at the corner of your mouth, some of it is caught in the tears that smear your cheeks.
You want- like never before.
.
When your heat is over, the guilt kicks in.
You know better than to wash the coat yourself, only wiping gently at the interior in hopes of wiping off any lingering traces of… you away. You think about getting it dry cleaned yourself but you’d used the last of your money on the alleviator pills to help with your heat symptoms. You wouldn’t get paid until the end of the month.
Finally, you rummage through the pockets, checking to see if anything had been left behind by the owner. You find a crumpled napkin with someone’s number scribbled on, leaning in, you take an experimental sniff and draw away from it in disgust as the scent hits your nose.
You almost put it back, but you figured it was crumpled anyway, probably meant for a bin in the first place- so you put it there. Searching again and you smile when you come across a tub of lip balm, opening it and giving a little sniff of the inside. There’s no scent to it, and you curiously swipe a bit onto your finger and smear it onto your lips.
You begin to get a sense that the person this coat belongs to, has very refined tastes, and after a quick search, your eyes widen in shock when you discover the lip balm costs near fifty dollars.
Which is how it starts- an itch at the back of your head that tries to warn you of the possibility that the coat in your possession costs more than you’d initially thought.
You let out a slow breath, typing in the information stitched onto the label and your eyes bulge out of your head when you finally see the price of the coat sitting in your lap.
Three thousand.
The coat you stole had cost nearly three thousand dollars.
You look down at the item in betrayal, the scent of its true owner just barely clinging to it. 
You take a deep breath, pushing your phone aside as you begin rummaging for a box capable of returning such an expensive item.
Thankfully, you know where to return it to, as the name and address had been hooked to the garment bag.
Delivering it is another difficult task on its own, but you manage, having to call in a few favours and explain in lengthy detail to the courier that your package wasn’t dangerous in any way but you’d rather not deliver it yourself.
Luckily, you’re able to convince them of your cause, the urge to help an omega in distress working in your favour.
.
It’s nine a.m on a Saturday morning when Billy comes home from his run. 
He’s fishing for his keys in his pocket when he notices that there’s a box sitting in front of his door.
He pauses for a moment, looks at the item, before stepping forward to examine it.
There’s a card on top- one of those printed ones you can get at a convenience store- light blue sky and a panda holding onto a handful of bamboo stalks. 
There’s an “I’m Sorry,” printed on, and then something added in below in pen.
‘From a very apologetic Omega.’ It says.
His eyebrows twitch in amusement, he brings the card up to his nose to catch a whiff- the scent of light, floral perfume fills his nose. 
He’s aware his coat had been stolen, he’d seen video footage of the crime itself, watched as a small hooded frame had reached across and nicked his coat before it could be cleaned. The dry cleaners had sent him the footage when they’d explained what had happened.
He’d thought it had been gone for good, deleting the only copy of the footage and moving on. He could afford to replace one coat. 
This though, was interesting, it seems like the omega had felt some sort of remorse, and had returned his coat to him.
It was sweet, he found himself smiling as he reached down to pick the box up, cradling it under one arm and flipping the card open as he enters his apartment.
‘Dear Alpha,                    I’m so sorry I took your coat. I tried to clean it as best as I could, but I couldn’t afford to have it dry cleaned for you. It’s wrapped tightly to protect you from the scent on it. I'd suggest not opening it, and taking it to be cleaned as soon as you get it. I’m very sorry. P.S. You have a very nice scent.’
He huffs, feeling a little sorry for an omega that couldn’t afford a dry cleaning bill, then again, the cost of the coat would definitely bring up the price a lot more.
Curiously, he tugs the box open, finding that the garment bag has been folded carefully and wrapped in plastic wrap. 
He sniffs the box experimentally, searching for any hint of a scent, or any indication that the package could be dangerous.
All he gets is more of that pleasant perfume that he figured was doused in the box to protect him from the scent.
It only makes him more curious.
Billy grips the plastic wrap, and very carefully tears a little hole into the plastic, breaking the seal.
His body goes rigid. 
He feels his pupils dilate, his hindbrain roaring to life as he catches the scent of an omega in heat.
His omega.
He rips the plastic furiously, fumbles with the garment bag and rips the zipper open. His eyes scan the coat, as he takes one long, slow breath.
The first scent he gets are apples, and then light notes of vanilla, but under it all, is the kick of pheromones, that sticks like honey on his tongue.
He takes another deep breath, groaning as his cock swells, pulsing to life, begging to claim the owner of such a delicious scent.
There’s so much of it, filling his space with sweet notes of frustration, yearning and unfulfillment. 
His omega, needing him.
A growl tears from his chest, something inside of him collapses like an avalanche, only increasing with time, decimating his thoughts and leaving a feverish burn under his skin.
He tugs the coat open, groaning, the tart smell of cunt clings to the inside of his coat, telling him that his omega wore his coat naked.
Desperate little thing, he thinks, as he dips his hand into his joggers, fingers wrapping firmly around his cock, squeezing in an attempt to force his orgasm away. He groans, the grip around his cock rewarding him with pleasure, and he can’t help pumping himself, trying to ease the desire inside of him.
He leans in, nose pressed to the collar of his coat, where the scent is strongest, where his omega must have rubbed their little scent gland vigorously against his coat,
Sweet, delightful, his cock aches for a cunt he’s never seen, his mouth yearns for skin he’s never touched. All he has, is the honeyed scent of an omega’s heat, and the screaming inside of him that demands he claim what his body knows is his.
His grip on his cock tightens, his vision blurs, head full of thoughts, ideas of a little omega under him, sobbing as they take his cock repeatedly, begging for more with broken cries.
He doesn’t stop until he comes into his hand, only then, does his thinking sharpen.
He puts his coat in bed beside him, he hopes the sheets will absorb the smell, so that he can have his little omega with him while he sleeps. He wakes with an aching cock, and the coat clutched tightly against his chest, struggling to remember fading dreams of little omegas that beg nicely.
He doesn’t get out of bed until he’s come twice into the palm of his hand.
.
He searches for days. 
But when he’d deleted the footage from the dry cleaners, he’d gotten rid of any hope of tracing his omega’s movements, and chances of finding an address. 
She doesn’t leave any record of one, always opting to pick up her items herself. 
At least he’s gotten that, a basic description, a height, an idea of her complexion and the colour of her eyes.
It was too vague to work with, but it was something he could think about before he went to sleep at night, with his nose buried in his coat, breathing in the scent of her, desperate to find the omega that had stolen his coat and unintentionally taken his heart.
He studies the card too, learns the handwriting, growing more and more desperate for his little omega.
Billy knew he wouldn't stop looking, not until he found the person who'd opened up a nest of possibilities in his head, giving him something he'd never had in a very long time.
Hope.
.
.
.
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eddiesxangel · 5 months
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Hey, Mr. Claus🎅🏻 | Santa!Eddie x Reader
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Holiday Prompt Party hosted by @allthingsjoeq and @bettyfrommars 🥰
Prompt: You can tell that the mall Santa is a babe under that beard, and you decide to get closer to investigate.
CW: This is loosely based on a TikTok I saw. Flirting and fluff.
WC: 1.4k
“Santa! Santa!” Your three-year-old nephew tugged your hand as he ran towards the man in red walking towards you.
“Yeah, buddy, Santa!” You smiled as he tugged you closer and closer just before his hand slipped from yours and charged the man dressed up in a fake white beard, red and white fluffy hat and suit, headed in your direction.
“Christopher! You get back here right now!” You yell as you chase after him through the halls of the busy mall. He doesn’t listen to you. He completely ignores you as he runs into the arms of the mall Santa. You watch as Santa opens his arms wide and embraces the little boy with a big smile, not seeming bothered by the little boy who has just tackled him.
If you weren’t so worried, it would be the most darling thing you’ve witnessed this year.
“Ho ho ho, who do we have here?” You heard the very fake, deep voice addressing you and your nephew.
“I’m chwistopho!” Your nephew shrieks as he gazes up at the fake bearded man.
"Now, Christopher, you know running away from your mommy isn't nice. She looked very worried; he crouched down to his level. Giving you a little wink. His brown eyes were memorizing and took you aback as you approached the two of them. He was much younger than any Santa you've ever encountered before. His nose was flushed red as if he had put on blush to make it look cold. His eyes were rimmed with white eyeliner, making them more cartoonish and round. He also had black lines where crowss feet would be if he was older.
“That’s not my Mommy! That’s my Auntie!” He giggles like Santa is the silliest man on earth.
"Ho ho ho! I am so silly, of course, I knew that wasn't your Mommy! I know all the children of the world and their parents; I was testing you! Good lad." The cute young mall Santa chuckled.
“Come on buddy, Santa is on his break for his milk and cookies, we don’t want to bother him anymore. You don’t want to get on the naughty list.” That caught his attention really quick.
“I’ve been a good boy!” He protested while snuggling into Santa’s fluffy suit.
“I know you’ve been a good boy. I’ll be visiting your house. Don’t you worry!” Santa exclaimed as he picked up your nephew in his arms.
“See, little bear, don’t worry, Santa had your back.” You wink.
"Don't you worry either" Santa addressed you now. "I'm sure you're on my nice list as well." Was Santa flirting me you?
You couldn't help but feel your cheeks heat up as Santa passed your nephew back with open arms.
"What do we say to Santa?" You asked the little boy in your arms.
"Thank you!" He squealed as he blew a kiss to the not-so-old man.
Christopher let you know he was so excited to tell his mom and dad how he met Santa today and that you were the best auntie ever!
"You also tell him that he owes me one when we get you home. Okay, buddy?” You tell Christopher as you walk away from the mall Santa; wishing you got to speak to him more. He rambled on so much as you walked back to the exit, that you didn't get a proper chance to say goodbye to Santa.
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You still couldn't get the cute young Santa out of your head the following day. You thought about him all night, replaying how adorable the interaction had been between Christopher and him. So you decided to go back to the mall today and see if you could find him.
You found the line to take pictures with Santa in the middle of the mall, it wasn’t hard to miss because the lineup for it was outrageous. You hoped they were paying him well, there were way too many kids here. You rounded the corner to the back of the line and hoped this was worth it.
After going back and forth with yourself on what you would say to him, you’d chickened out a few times before hyping yourself back up. Before you knew it you were next in line after forty-five minutes of absolute self-torcher.
As you examine the man in the big red suit, you observe how tired he is until his eyes lock on you. He immediately fixes his posture, his smile seems more genuine, and his big doe eyes brighten.
You take a deep breath and walk up with all the fake confidence in the world, knowing you look weird without a kid.
"Ho ho ho, have a seat, Sugar Plum and tell Santa what you want for Christmas!" He patted his knee with a white-gloved hand.
You tentatively go to sit on his knee and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he wraps around your waist in a tight grip.
"Hi," you meekly smile.
"Hi, Snow Angel." He smiled brightly. You can see his straight white teeth smile through the god-awful fake beard.
"Now, what is it you want for Christmas." Santa, aka Eddie, scolded himself for having to keep up the dumb act while the prettiest girl he's ever seen is willingly here in his lap.
"What I want for Christmas is to see if you're really as cute as I think you are under all of this." you gesture to his get-up. "Do you think I deserve that? I am on the nice list; after all." You playfully bat your eyes hoping you are not making a fool of yourself.
Santa Eddie chuckled. "I think that can be arranged. I'll have my Elves on that one straight away!"
“Great, call me.” You slip him a small paper with your name and phone number. But not before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before popping up from his lap, and methodically swaying your hips a little hoping he would stare at your ass and you walked away.
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Eddie couldn’t believe what just happened. He picked up a girl dressed in a fake beard and a smelly tacky red getup. And not just any girl. The girl from yesterday with the bright eyes and beautiful smile. He would be lying if he’d said he hadn’t wished he got your name yesterday.
It was hard to get it together after you’d flustered him. He called for a fifteen-minute break after you had left because he needed to collect himself.
He examined your handwriting; he thought your loopy scrawl was cute. He smirked at the little hearts you drew at the corner. And couldn’t wait for his shift to be over to call you.
Eddie called around 8:00pm that night. You discovered his name was Eddie, not St.Nicholas, Kris Kringle, or Mr. Claus. His normal voice was hot, and you were nervous to see what he looked like. He asked to meet for coffee on Saturday at noon between being flirty and funny, and you couldn’t wait.
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Eddie called you every day for the next 3 days until Saturday. You were nervous but excited to see Eddie’s proper form.
You had gotten to the cafe at 11:53am. You sat in the parking lot until 11:59am and gathered the courage to leave your car. You scanned the room until you saw a pair of brown eyes you couldn’t ever forget. Your breath hitched as he waved and stood up from the booth he reserved for the two of you.
He wasn’t what you expected; honestly, you hadn’t known what to expect, but he was hot. Eddie was way hotter than you anticipated. Like really really hot. His hair was a lot longer than you expected, and he wore a black leather jacket over a black band shirt you didn’t recognize, black jeans and black boots. As he came closer, you saw he had painted his nails black and accessorized with chunky silver rings. He had a five o’clock shadow and had a bit of white liner still rimming his water line he probably couldn’t wash off.
“Hey,” he smiled and pulled you into a hug. His body was bigger than yours, and he smelled so good. It was much better than the dusty old suit he wore when you met him.
“Hi, Santa,” you smile.
“Careful, Sugar Plum; I know the big guy and can get you kicked off the nice list if you keep up that teasing.” He playfully points as you take a step closer.
“Who says I wanna be on the nice list? Maybe I like being naughty.” You smirked while playing with the collar of his shirt.
“Oh ho ho, I knew I would like you,” he laughed.
“Pack it in Santa. I’m here for Eddie.” You raise onto your tip toes to kiss his cheek.
Eddie guided you to the booth, and you couldn’t believe you were on a date with the mall Santa Claus…
Read a smutty part 2 here
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mactavishwritings · 3 months
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Hello! I have a request for poly!141 + Keegan maybe where their wife(if you’re okay with fem!reader) is pregnant and she comes to base with food for them but she can’t get past the gates bc they won’t let her past and she calls price and they all come out pissed before bringing the reader inside and they eat together. And maybe the reader gives them all a little note of the baby’s gender(u can pick) just a lot of fluff.♥️
I'm so mad. i started this request earlier today, but my work redid the wifi so i lost my draft :( oh well
so i took this and ran w it omg
You were growing more and more frustrated, a pounding headache taking the forefront of your mind. The soldier who was standing guard, minding the gate, refused to scan your pass. The main issue was that your visitor pass was expired. You had already renewed it and were just waiting for the new one to come in the mail. John assured you that you could still use the old one, that all they had to do was scan the old one and it'll prompt for the new, updated pass.
The soldier refused to even listen to you, just telling you to get off the base. You were damn near about to stomp your foot like a child, feeling completely helpless. "Just humor me and scan the damn pass!" You shoved your pass towards the man, who took a step back from you. You were completely done. You had planned on going on base to reveal the gender to your boys. You just wanted to get in and to them. You angrily grabbed your phone and the soldier sighed. "Jesus I knew pregnancy affected a woman's emotions, but I didn't know it would affect her intelligence!"
Your eye twitched and just smiled tightly at the man. "Just give me one moment." You nodded as you immediately dialed John. "Hey baby, what's up?" You could hear the boys in the background and it helped your mood a bit. "My darling. Can you do me a favor and come sponsor me? They won't let me on." You heard him chuckle to himself and it sat weird with you. "What do you mean? Just have them scan your pass. The system will say you're valid." John clearly had a smile on his face and didn't understand what the issue was. "That's what I thought, however, this soldier guarding the gate said that wasn't possible. But as this soldier said, pregnancy affects a woman's intelligence so what do I know?" The laughter in the background immediately went silent and you just heard breathing. "Stay there. We're coming."
You waited for John, smiling at the soldier, who was on the verge of kicking you off base completely. You saw John's black car roll up at a speed that even made you nervous. You shifted in your seat as you watched John step out of the now parked car and all the other three boys stepped out, but stayed by John's car. John calmly walked towards the gate and the soldier immediately stood at attention, saluting John. He nodded at the man before snatching the scanner out of his hand. "Watch this, ya fuckin' dumbass," John stated before holding his hand out for your pass. You happily handed it over and John scanned it himself. The gun beeped for a moment before showing a green check mark. You were clear to enter the base.
After you smiled sweetly as the soldier mumbled an apology, you followed John's car as the boys drove back to their barracks. The base was huge, you could easily see yourself getting lost if not for the boys in front of you. You pulled into the parking spot reserved for expecting mothers and Simon was quick to run over to help you out of the car. "Let's get you in mama." Simon kissed your head and Johnny pulled the cake from your backseat.
"You make this yourself, Chridhe?" Johnny hummed, coming to kiss your hand before rushing inside as Kyle held the door open for all of you. John entered after you and Simon and they all brought you down to their rec room. You sighed, finally happy to be able to sit down. "That idiot up front was a dick." You mumbled and groaned, rubbing your head. "Said some dumbass shit." You rolled your eyes and sat forward looking up toward the boys.
"You got through it, babe." Kyle placed a kiss on your forehead and smiled. "I'm ready to know what we're having." All the boys nodded in agreement and you immediately got excited. "Oh yeah! Let's cut into this cake." You grabbed a knife and told the boys to close their eyes. You cut them all slices and placed a piece in front of them. "Okay ready? Open."
You had tears in your eyes as the boys looked down at the cake to expose the blue filling inside. Johnny and Kyle both jumped up with joy and John laughed loudly. Simon reached out to hold your hand tightly as Johnny and Kyle both wrapped you up in their arms.
"I'm so happy!" You squealed, tears rolling down your face. "Thank you so much, woman." John grabbed the sides of your face and kissed your nose lightly.
You felt completely content, ready to share this moment for the rest of your life with these men.
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i would love a percy blurb w the horrible summer party prompt! maybe like he floods the house a lil so it causes a distraction and the two can get out lmaoo. thank u i love ur writing <3
that just screams Percy I'm obsessed
based on this post opening requests up for blurbs with certain prompts!
take me away!
pairing: percy jackson x greek demigod!reader
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Really, if you thought about it, you could blame the horrendous party on Ares.
You weren't even sure which of his children had the brilliant idea to throw the party, a desperate attempt to win the favor of someone else at camp you couldn't remember the name of, but you figured Ares had caused enough strife in your life that it was completely fair to blame him.
At least, Percy agreed with you.
"If we leave now, they'll notice," You hummed, hand tugging on the hem of Percy's shirt to keep him close to you. Not that your boyfriend had any intentions of going far, at all, but he had already taken a step towards the cabin exit.
"How will they notice?" He countered, frowning down at you, and you couldn't help the grin on your lips as you pushed forward and kissed his chin quickly.
"Because you're Percy Jackson at an Ares party." You pinched his side. Just because you had forced Percy to try out the party with you, didn't mean it wasn't strange that he had willingly gone. "I think everyone is waiting for Clarisse to come fight you."
"All the more reason for us to leave," Percy emphasized his words with a gentle squeeze of his hands on your hips, and you only rolled your eyes. "Seriously, it's so lame here. They didn't even get anyone from Hermes to steal snacks from town!"
You couldn't help but agree. The music was dry, there were barely any refreshments, and the Ares cabin had an energy like at the start of a fight. Sometimes it was energizing, but now it only felt stifling.
"We can't just walk out. We need to think of an excuse—"
The words had barely passed your lips before Percy was grinning and a sudden round of screaming rose from the back of the cabin where the bathrooms were.
"What did you do?" You hissed with narrowed eyes at Percy, but he just winked and slipped his hand into yours, tugging you towards the exit while everyone else moved to find the source of the commotion.
You were pretty sure you heard someone shout something about broken pipes, but you and Percy were long gone, sprinting across camp with him leading until he came to a stop at the edge of the canoe lake.
"Percy!" You laughed, a little high on adrenaline, and he wrapped you in his arms as he caught his breath, chuckles vibrating in his own chest along with you. "Please tell me you didn't do what I think you just did."
"You said we needed an excuse!" He defended, pulling back slightly from the hug to grin in a way that definitely got him out of trouble more than it should have with you. "Broken toilets spraying water everywhere is a pretty good one. Besides, I gave everyone else at the party an excuse to leave, too."
"I could have just pretended to be sick!"
And maybe it was a little ridiculous to find his logic so endearing, but you held his face between your hands and kissed him soundly, the only sound being the gentle waves lapping against the shore and crickets in the trees.
His hands fell to your waist, warm and strong, pulling you flush against his front. He tasted like sea salt and the Diet Coke he'd drank at dinner, and you thought you could kiss him forever, but soon enough your giggles interrupted and you broke apart.
Percy was grinning at you, so wide you couldn't help but brush the pads of your thumbs against the corners of it. He was the first to speak, voice low and filled to the brim with admiration.
"Maybe I should break toilets more often."
"Just wait until Clarisse finds out it was you, Jackson."
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hi hi covey!! 💋
can i request a blurb of my sweet boy jason with his stressed & overworked, academicvalidation! gf? i just know he would be so caring and precious and jskjsksh i could just melt
✮⋆˙ take a break, catch a nap, have a snack!; jason grace x reader blurb
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content: jason grace x reader blurb warning: none! author's note: howdy guys!!! it feels like i've been gone but i know i really haven't, ya know??? i had a BLAST on my trip and am so so grateful i was able to go on it. but also, it was a nice break that has me missing writing, so hopefully more stuff is gonna be coming out soon...which will HOPEFULLY lead to me opening my request again. (not that some of yall deserve that frfr im looking at you, illegal anon's) ALSO KJ MY BELOVED YOURE LEGIT THE LOVE OF MY LIFE AND YOU COULD PROBS DO THIS PROMPT SO MUCH MORE JUSTICE THAN ME BUT I APPRICIATE IT NONETHELESS POOKIE!!! anyways with all da love, from covey at the boston airport!!
jason, of all people, understood seeking validation. someone confirming that you were doing good and that you could be good. but, even he felt this was a bit extreme. you'd blocked him! something about even his profile picture being distracting.
he was determined to have you take a break. get some food, get something that wasn't coffee to drink, and perhaps jason could somehow cuddle you to sleep. he was plotting alright as he marched to the library, almost certain that's where you could be. when take came up fruitless, jason huffed his way out of the library and waved the librarian's offers of help off. you thought you could outsmart him, but jason knew you better than himself on most days.
"how the hades- you know what? don't answer that," you hissed as jason stood in front of you with his arms crossed. you pouted as your secret study spot had been discovered - well, it really wasn't all that secret. it was the rooftop of your apartment but still! it was supposed to be a space undisturbed by the son of jupiter that was eager to steal you away from your studies.
"c'mon," jason replied, nodding his head towards the door of your bedroom. you simply gave him a pointed look before returning to your laptop. your fingers reached for the keys but then it was slammed shut by a suspiciously strong breeze. you frowned up at the boy who hadn't moved an inch but his foot was starting to tap like an angry mother.
"jase," you whined, dragging out the last vowel in hopes the longer you held the note, the more likely he was to give in. you were wrong as jason simply raised a brow at you.
"just thrity minutes," jason offered but you squinted at him in suspicion. jason then held his hand out to you, gentle and welcoming. you sighed but took his hand into yours, allowing him to pull you up and out of the homework mountain you've created. he helped you pack, muttering about the weather getting too cold soon and how you should study inside your apartment. you let him, knowing your backpack wouldn't be unzipped until the next day but continuing to play the part of 'opositional girlfriend.'
you let him lead you into the apartment and fix you up some snack as you curled up on the couch, your favorite movie play suspiciously at just the right time. you didn't need to ask questions as you knew this wasn't some accident or twist of fate based off the little twitch of jason's scar, a sure sign of scheming.
the sweet boy served you without even needing to be told what you wanted, somehow he always had a knack for just knowing. then he sat down next to you on the couch and you rolled your eyes as he could read him like a book. but, you let the roman boy have his fun. over the next ten minutes, he slowly inched closer to you. then, he threw his arm over the back of the couch, still yet to look in your direction. and to finish off the theatrics, a chill drifted through the apartment, which did, admittedly, have you leaning into the boy's warm side.
next thing you knew, a blanket was pulled up to your chin and your eyelids were drooping.
"homework cockblock," you muttered into jason's chest but cuddled closer nonetheless.
"you'll thank me later," jason mused back in reponse before running his hands through your hair and gently scratching at your scalp, the final nail in the coffin as you fluttered your eyes shut to sleep against your roman boy. and you didn't dream of late assignments or failing classes, but rather of the stunning blonde boy you was always looking out for you, college drop out or not.
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lazycats-stuff · 8 months
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Can I request a batfamily discovering that Bruce has another biological son(who’s reader and is the second youngest) but also that reader is stuck in a abusive home and they go to save him from it?
Of course you can. My poor baby...
Summary: (Y/N) is never met his father and is stuck in a bad situation. Bruce saves him.
Warnings: Abusive household, neglectful parents, but not Bruce, protective Bruce, protective boys
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Bruce was still shocked when he found out that he another biological son, Damian's half brother. He found out by a complete accident. He was investigating something and he accidently cross referenced DNA through the database.
He really didn't expect a match. He really didn't. He sat in shock for about 15 minutes, trying to wrap his mind around it. He knew that he was a playboy, still is, but he knew he was careful with (Y/N)'s mom.
He was sure of it. Also, why didn't she call him?
There was one problem with all of this too. He saw where (Y/N) lives and sure, it isn't right to judge someone based on where they live, but it wasn't a nice area to live. It was filled with addicts of all kinds.
He didn't like the fact that he saw CPS reports. He thought about his plan. They need to see what the situation is. And now here is another problem.
Telling his other kids was a whole another ballgame. He didn't know how they were going to react. Especially Damian, since (Y/N) is his biological son.
After a few more moments, he went back to surface level. He asked them all to come to the dining room. He only told them that he had some important news.
It could go... Well, it wasn't going to be a ride in the park. It was going to be a bumpy meeting.
" Alright, what is the news you wanted to tell us? " Dick said. Everyone was sitting at the dining table, waiting for the news. Alfred didn't know either so he was going to be surprised too.
" I have another biological son. "
All hell broke loose.
There were shouts of all kinds of questions. The only person who was silent was Damian. He was either thinking this through or he was in shock. Bruce knew it was the first option.
" What is his name? " Damian asked, looking curious.
Not bad so far.
" (Y/N). I know where he lives and all, but I want to scout the situation with him. I have some of my suspicions. " Bruce admitted, looking at everyone.
" Such as? " Jason prompted.
" CPS reports. "
The mood shifted and everyone was now feeling uneasy. They knew what it could mean.
" So... You are thinking that he is abused. " Tim started, feeling the uneasiness and the palpable tension in the room.
" If the reports are correct, then we have a problem. He needs to come here. " Dick said, tension palpable once more. Nobody really wanted to think that those reports were true. But then again, they really aren't that lucky.
" So we are going to check out the situation? " Tim asked, tapping his finger against his mug.
" Yes. I'm calling my lawyer first thing tomorrow morning. And tomorrow night, we are going to scout the situation. Any sign of violence and we are going in. " Bruce said, clenching his fists tightly.
" I'm wondering why she didn't tell you. " Damian said, calmer than Bruce expected him to be.
" I do to Damian, but we will find out soon. " Bruce said, trying to ease the tension. " (Y/N) will live with us soon. " Bruce said, not sure whether or not he is trying to soothe himself.
He should have known he has a son. He should have checked. He should have... But what is done is done. He has to make a move and make sure that (Y/N) is going to be okay from now on.
They all waited on the opposite rooftop, just watching and waiting. It was quiet for a couple of hours, but it wasn't even two hours while they were here.
They saw the beating from (Y/N)'s so called father. Stepfather would be more like it. Bruce and Damian rushed in, shocking the two parents.
After Bruce knocked them both out, he knelt in front of (Y/N), who was shaking and crying quietly.
" It's okay. I know you are scared, but you are going to be okay. They won't harm you anymore. " Batman said softly, watching as (Y/N) nodded. Damian helped (Y/N) up, clearly still afraid, but none the less happy to see the vigilantes.
Bruce left him with the GCPD and he picked him up the next morning. Bruce picked him up, claiming to be his father. (Y/N) was shocked.
His mother never said everything. Anything. He was still shocked as he was afraid. Who is to say that Bruce won't hurt him? Bruce knew that (Y/N) is skeptical because of the abuse, but he wasn't going to let (Y/N) be afraid.
When they finally came home, the boys softened their welcome. Damian was very curious about (Y/N). He didn't talk to him after taking him to the GCPD and (Y/N) was afraid of the new environment.
Damian knew that it would take time for (Y/N) to feel relaxed. But you know, that is going to be okay. (Y/N) would heal and they would make sure that he was okay.
Damian knew that he would have to step up. He was biologically related to him and he was going to try the hardest.
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