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#anyway I'm tired and as nice as parts of my day were I feel like the lows were just really low
emometalhead · 16 days
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#ran out of tags on last post but still want to rant without filling anyone's inbox or dash#sorry but here's the continuation#anyway so also we went to my grandma's house and I saw my dogs which breaks my heart every damn time#I miss them so much and it kills me. it causes me physical pain to not have them with me#I'm still mad at my mom to this day for being so horrible to them and giving them away. so it pissed me off to see her cuddling them#everyone disagrees with me but I don't think she has any right to act like she cares about them after she discarded them so easily#I will never stop being upset with her for it and even though everyone thinks I'm a b**** for it I refuse to release the grudge#anyway I'm tired and as nice as parts of my day were I feel like the lows were just really low#this morning we took some lovely graduation photos at my campus (which I visited for the last time) and I'm excited to post a few tomorrow#I'm truly proud of myself and grateful my college experience is over#I just foolishly allowed myself to have a vision of how today would go and parts of it really brought me down#I don't want to complain (which is probably a lie since this is the 3rd post I'm making to rant) but I wasn't expecting to breakdown today#I spent time with people I love and I got cool photos and a really soft sweater with my school's logo on it and I shouldn't be sad right now#plus we're having people over tomorrow for a party to celebrate me#I'm just really reliving the day and a lot of it was negative at my expense and I really hoped everyone would work to make it nice#some of it was obviously out of my family's hands but I feel like they handled that stuff in a way that guilted me and it sucked#I'm just a mess of emotions and I'm lowkey icing everyone out because I don't want to end my night crying again#welcome to real life I guess?#I really shouldn't complain#ashley rants#sorry if anyone read this
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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
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JJK men with a small-chested reader
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Pairings: Toji x reader; Gojo x reader; Choso x reader; Nanami x reader; Sukuna x reader; Geto x reader
Word Count: 4,5k
Warnings: this is LONG so get seated; reader gets confronted with hate regarding small boobs so if that's not for you don't read, also this implies JJK men are into small boobs so if that triggers you don't read, smut mentioned in Toji's & Nanami's part, abusive ex relationship in Nanami's part, Gojo is a dick in Geto's part and in general I feel like this one isn't that great so sorry for all my Geto lovers out there I'm tired
Click here for the big-chested version
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Toji Fushiguro
You can’t help but let yourself fall into his rough touch, enjoy the sensation of his body pressed against yours. How you ended up here? You couldn’t care less. Is it pretty bad to be minutes away from getting laid by your enemy? Maybe, but you don’t give a damn.
Until his hand yanks towards your breasts.
“N-No. Stop”, you whimper, pushing against his broad shoulders to get him off you.
“C’mon, what’s wrong babe? Don’t ya enjoy yourself?”, he purrs against your ear.
Oh god, just the sound of his deep voice lets your mind wander to places where it hasn’t been for ages, makes you arche your body towards him like a needy teenager.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
But just when he’s about to stretch his hand towards your chest again, you lift yourself off the couch so suddenly that you almost fall over. No, you just can’t do this.
Automatically, you cross your arms in front of your chest, eyes gazing down at the nothingness you hold. Since you can remember, you’ve got picked on for having small boobs. Oh, how desperately you waited throughout whole puberty for them to finally grow, how much you secretly begged for those delicious female curves you’ve seen all over media and anime. But every time you look into the mirror, you are greeted by basically nothing. If a man like Toji would see you like this. God, if he only touches your breast and realizes that your décolleté comes from nothing but a push up bra…
It’s impossible for a man like him to find a woman like you attractive. Why were you even stupid enough to consider a one-night stand with him, when looks are the only thing that really counts? If he sees you’ve been lying into his face, that you don’t look like those girls on magazines…
Would he make fun of you? The disappointed look on his face as soon as he unclips your bra would be too much to handle alone.
“I can’t do this. Sorry”, you mumble, fingers frantically straighten your clothes.
Just forget about what happened today. Get home, take off your bra and stare at the ceiling. You don’t need a man to satisfy your needs anyway…right?
He grabs you by your waist so suddenly that you aren’t even able to react when his other hand unclips your bra and pulls up your shirt.
You fail to breathe, glossy eyes staring into his unbothered face in sheer disbelief. Did that man just expose your whole chest within the blink of a second?
“Why are you actin’ all shy, huh? Those are some nice tits”, he speaks out with a sly grin.
“I…”
You are lost at words, lost at thoughts, lost at sight. This man is walking sex himself. Damn, he could probably pull any girl on this planet. But no, he decided to get into your apartment and he just said that…Your breasts look good?
“Fuck, I’ve been waiting all day for that”, he signs.
His usual so rough fingers cup your breasts gently, swallow them whole with ease. Toji’s eyes are completely fixated on the sensation between his fingertips, how your warm flesh feels against his palms.
“I thought you…you aren’t into…small boobs”, you moan, closing your embarrassed eyes to shield yourself from his intense stare.
“I’m a man of culture”, he comments.
Oh, you can tell he’s grinning like he always does. Slowly but surely everything seems to fade away. All the dumb comments about your body, all the times you looked into the mirror and blankly stared at your flat chest. No, everything that counts now is that the force of a man standing in front of you clearly enjoys your sight, that your boobs alone are enough bring a grown man onto his knees, to make him whimper against your heated skin and the bulge in his pants grow with every second.
“Fuck, I need ya”, he hisses.
Toji pully your top over your head before you’re even able to think straight. There he stands, his hand unzipping his pants in slow motion while you gaze up at him panting like a dog.
“I’ll show you how much I’m into you, babe…”
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Gojo Satoru
You look yourself up and down in the mirror, mind raising. It’s your third date with none other than the Satoru Gojo. The men who turns women’s heads on a regular basis, the men who invited you into the most exquisite restaurant of the city, the man who even sent you a dress for the occasion. A jaw-dropping gorgeous black dress with a delicate waterfall neckline, just the right fit for a man like him.
But not with your flat chest. The fabric seems to hang on your body like a potato sack, filled by nothing but thin air. And because of the cursed deep back, you aren’t even able to wear a push up bra underneath. Fuck, what are you supposed to do? The more you stare at yourself in the mirror, the worse it seems to fit. Satoru chose this dress only for you. There’s absolutely no way in hell you’ll wear something else, that you disappoint him like that. But do you have another option?
You let yourself fall onto your bed, eyes darting to your phone. Shit, you have only 10 more minutes left before he gets her. How are you supposed to fix this? Will Satoru be disappointed? You never wore tight or unflattering clothes around him before, always hid your smaller chest well behind casual sweatshirts or push up bras. But this…You aren’t able to hide anything in this.
Will be there in 5. Can’t wait to see you in that dress <3
Oh god, you feel like throwing up when reading his message. Everything went so well between the both of you, so unproblematic and genuinely fine. But are you even good enough for Satoru Gojo when he’s surrounded by so many beautiful women? Your hands wander up your stomach, come to a stand on your chest. No, you definitely can’t keep up with Mei Mei and the others. Will he lose interest in you after tonight? Will his facial expression drop the second he lays eyes on you in that dress?
Your palms get sweaty, mind overwhelmed by all those venomous thoughts.
“Fuck, don’t cry”, you hiss to yourself, angrily blinking into the mirror.
The doorbell rings.
Your heart drops.
Shit.
Didn’t he say 10 minutes?
Your feet carry you to your front door automatically, the tall frame of none other than Satoru clearly visible outside. No, why is he here? You didn’t have enough time to think about a solution, didn’t even try on that sticky bra you’ve bought a few months ago-
He rings again. There is no way of out this now. Like in slow motion, your shaky hand presses down the door handle, exposes yourself further and further to Satoru.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, (y/n)”, Satoru comments jokingly.
Hot tears slowly but surely start to take your sight while you stand there like an idiot, covering your chest with your arms. This will be the moment Satoru realizes you aren’t playing in his league, that he can do so much better. What was he thinking anyway, starting to date a girl like you?
“You look absolutely hot in that dress. Oh my god…”, he breathes out.
“Don’t lie to me”, you mumble.
No, you can’t take it. With a swift motion you turn yourself away from his gaze, away from his presence.
“What? I would never lie to you! Hey, are you cryin’? (y/n), look at me.”
Gently, he cups your face with both of his hands, forces you to get lost in the blue ocean of his eyes.
“I’m not doing justice to the dress you’ve gifted me”, you breathe out.
Satoru has to blink a few times, mind trying to process what the hell you are talking about. The minute you opened the door earlier, he was lost. You looked exactly how he imagined, so well-fitted into that black dress, your curves so delicious that it takes all his strength to keep his composure.
“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen and I’m serious about that. Why would you think something so ridiculous? Look at your-“
“I’m flat”, you finally snap.
“Flat?”, he repeats in disbelief.
“Flat like a pancake. Flat like a board. I…I have nothing!”, you blurt out.
Satoru can’t believe his ears, has to stare at you in sheer disbelief for a moment. Is this why you’re crying, why you’re crossing your arms in front of your chest like that? Because you think that…your breasts are too small?
“C’mon, you can’t be serious about that.”
He desperately waits for a reaction, for a cute little giggle coming out of your mouth and this being nothing but a prank. But instead, you just stand there in silence and hide yourself even more.
“Okay, let me get that straight: You.Look.Gorgeous. I can’t stop fucking looking at you, that dress fits you so well and when I saw that neckline for the first time…I’m only saying this before you force me to, okay? I’m thirsting over you like a teenager, (y/n)! And I adore every inch of your body, I adore the way your tits look.”
“Stop”, you mumble, his words making shivers run down your spine.
“I won’t stop until you say it.”
“Say what?”, you question, confusion written on your face.
“Repeat after me: I have nice tits.”
Is he serious? You drop your arms to the side, completely bamboozled by the Satoru Gojo in front of you.
“Let’s do it, (y/n)!”
“I have…nice tits”, you breathe out.
“I can’t hear you”, he shouts.
Gently, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you a little. What the hell is going on right now? His smile seems contagious, makes the corners of your mouth turn upwards just the slightest bit.
“I have small tits”, you giggle out.
“NO!”, he screams.
“I have nice tits!”
“I have nice tits”, you shout back.
“Yes, now…Can I touch them?”
“Let’s get going, okay?”, you mutter, head red like a tomato.
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Choso Kamo
“What are you doing, (y/n)?”
A high shriek escapes your lips when you look at Choso standing in the door. Fuck, what the hell is this guy doing here while you tried on that bikini you’ve bought earlier?
“Oh, that looks good”, he comments and nods towards your chest.
God, you feel like fainting. Out of all people, why does it have to be Choso standing there? And why do you feel so damn insecure all of the sudden? It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that you have a huge crush on Yuji’s bigger brother, that you can’t take your eyes off him. And while you feel pretty comfortable in your own skin, there is this one thing that makes you trip over and over again…
Your breasts.
You didn’t even notice until your female friends began to comment on the size of your boobs when you changed for sport lessons.
“You look like a child, (y/n)!”
“Omg, are you sure that’s normal?”
“You’re a board with nipples…”
“I’m so sorry for you, (y/n)! After all, all boys are into big tits these days! Well, at least you have a good character.”
And still, you didn’t even care that much. But now, with Choso Kamo standing in front of you while you wear nothing but a bikini top instead of your oversized uniform, you feel trapped.
“Well, thanks I guess”, you mumble, cheeks heating up in an instant.
He steps a little closer, eyes narrowed. Oh god, when is this finally over?
“Why are you looking so uncomfortable?”
“Well, maybe because I’m half naked-“
“I can tell it’s not because of that. Are you insecure?”
Fuck, this man reads you like an open book without mercy. For an incarnated curse, he’s way too emphatic.
“I wouldn’t say it like that but…I mean, look at me.”
“Is it because your breasts are smaller than those of the other female members of Jujutsu High? This doesn’t seem like an issue to me at all, (y/n). After all, breasts are mostly made of adipose tissue. Depending on your fat storage and how your body-“
“Oh god, please stop right now”, you interrupt him.
May the ground swallow you whole and keep you. How on earth did you get into a serious talk about your small chest with none other than Choso Kamo? And why does he know all those things about how women’s breast work?
“You seem to know quite a lot about women’s boobs. Did you study them or something?”
Why does your heart suddenly feel so heavy? It shouldn’t bother you that he talked about those things as if he looks at other women’s tits on a regular basis. But…You fell for him because he seemed like a guy who doesn’t care about those things. Were you mistaken about him?
“Not at all! But I overheard you talking to that other woman about the size of your breast and that you don’t feel comfortable about them, so I did research about this topic.”
Oh. Your heart stops beating for a second, your mind going blank. He did research because he overheard your conversation with Shoko?
“You did that…for me?”
“You’re important to me and I don’t want you to feel sad about something minor like this, (y/n).”
You stare at him like an idiot, still only covered only by a bikini top while all he does his holding your gaze in silence.
“What I want to say is that…You are absolutely beautiful. And so are your breasts-”
“Okay, this is getting a little out of hand. Would you mind if I…Change into something a little more modest?”, you interrupt him before you lose your composure completely.
“Of course!”
Choso doesn’t move. Instead, he just stands there like before and looks at you.
“Would you…Get out so I can change?”
“Oh…Yes, of course.”
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Nanami Kento
You can’t help but stare at him through the dim moonlight, hands wrapped around his neck. Oh, he sure feels good pressed against your body so tenderly, his breath caressing your cheek ever so slightly. Kento and you have been together for a few months now, taking things slow since your last relationship was like a trip to hell and back. And even though you are fully aware of the fact that Kento would never treat you badly, you still need time for certain things.
And these certain things contain him seeing you naked. Just one glance into the mirror is hard to bear, especially when it comes to your small chest. You simply hate the way they look, how they ruin every single outfit, how they make you look like a child. No matter what gorgeous gown you’re wearing, you never feel like a woman, like someone worth to be looked at. But still, Kento caresses every curve of your still dressed body carefully.
“You look absolutely stunning in moonlight, darling”, he hushes against your ear.
You love this man with all your heart. How he treats you with way more kindness than a single human would ever deserve, how he makes you feel good about yourself without even knowing. Kento Nanami picks up the pieces of your past and puts you back together like a complicated puzzle. Slowly and steady, step by step.
A whimper escapes your lips, the sensation of his fingertips brushing against your covered skin simply drives you insane. Oh, how much you adore that man, how much you admire him for making you feel so alive. Suddenly his plain touch doesn’t feel like enough anymore. You need him even closer, want to feel him even better.
“Please, take this off”, you mumble against his lips.
Kento stops in his tracks for a second, eyes staring at you intensively in your dark bedroom.
“Are you sure? I told you I can wait”, he reminds you gently while pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.
Are you sure? You didn’t let a man touch you after your ex, after all those nasty things he said about your body. Especially your small chest.
“Don’t you wanna get these things…y’know, fixed or something?”
“Leave your shirt on or I’ll turn off the light, these things turn me off...”
You hate how his stupid comments still haunt you even after all those years, despite the fact that you’re laying in the arms of none other than the epitome of a gentleman. Until today, you never allowed your boyfriend to take off your shirt, to even take a single glance in the direction of your exposed chest. But today feels different. With his eyes filled with nothing but affection, you finally feel ready.
“I don’t want you to wait. Please, take off my shirt”, you whisper into the night.
“Tell me to stop when you feel uncomfortable.”
You nod slightly, too occupied by the way his hands carefully wander down to the hem of your shirt, eyes fixated on yours. Your heartbeat picks up in an instant. Out of excitement, out of fear? You glance into his gleaming orbs that are filled with nothing but love. No, you don’t have to fear this man. But still…Will he like what he sees?
“You know I don’t have…I don’t have nice boobs. They are quite small…”, you suddenly blurt out.
“(y/n), you are the love of my life, my precious girlfriend. Every fiber of your being is way more than ‘nice’. I adore every inch of your gorgeous body”, he replies so softly that you feel like tearing up.
As if in slow motion he pulls up your shirt, reveals inch by inch of your naked skin until he pulls the fabric over your head.
You take a deep breath, try to read his face in the dim light. Is he disgusted, does he even look at you? Maybe he’s regretting his decision, maybe he finds you just as ugly as your ex did-
“You are so beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off you”, he hushes.
Kento Nanami stops your train of thoughts before you get lost in yourself, quiets the stinging voice of your ex-boyfriend inside your head.
Kento thinks you’re beautiful. Kento’s hand caresses your naked skin, gently cups your breast while he never fails to gaze at you.
“I love you, (y/n). In fact, I am the one lucky to have you. Thank you for putting your trust and love in me.”
“You…I love you so much, Kento.”
You can’t contain yourself any longer. Without hesitation, you pull your boyfriend’s face even closer, press your desperate lips against his. What a treasure he is, lifting you up without even realizing how much his words heal your soul.
If a man like Kento Nanami is able to love your small breasts than maybe, just maybe, you’ll start doing that as well.
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Ryomen Sukuna
“There’s no way in hell”, you press out, groaning in scorching pain.
“Do you have a death wish or are you just dumb, woman? You know you’ll die if you don’t take off that uniform, right?”, Sukuna remarks dryly.
“I would rather die than taking off my shirt in front of…you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Sukuna can’t help but stare at you in sheer disbelief. Surprisingly enough, he decided to save your ass instead of using his time more efficiently. And now you’re laying in front of him, a gaping hole inside your chest, he offered to save your life.
And you, dumbass of the century, refuse to get saved by none other than the king of curses himself.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you really wish to die so badly?”
“I…I don’t want to die!”, you blurt out.
Fuck, how did you get yourself into that situation? Bad enough that you’ve got hit by that curse right into your chest, even worse that the king of curses himself appeared and wants to help you. But the worst thing is that you need to take your shirt off.
It is ridiculous and you know it. This is not the time to be insecure about your small tits. No, this is absolutely not the time to even think about shit like that. But the sheer thought of Ryomen Sukuna seeing your flat chest alone makes you rather die than letting that happen. No, the last thing you want is him making fun of you.
“Then why are you acting like a child? Hold still. You strange human, I should kill you right on the spot. Good for you I still have use for someone this skilled. You impressed me earlier.”
Under normal conditions, you’d feel some kind of pride over his words. But with death whispering in your ear and the stinging fact that his hands begin to bottom up your shirt….
You freak out.
“GET YOURSELF AWAY FROM ME!”, you scream pathetically, hands fighting so poorly against his that he catches your flying fists mid-air.
“Stop beating me before I’m losing it, brat”, he barks at you.
Just one more button. One more button and you’ll be completely exposed to him. The king of curses, seeing your small boobs.
“DON’T LOOK AT MY BOOBS!”
“What?”
He can’t believe his ears. This can’t be the reason why you pull up this fight. No, there’s absolutely no way in hell you’re acting like this because you’re ashamed of him seeing your breasts.
“Please…Don’t look at my boobs…”
The king of curses just stares at you emotionless.
“Who do you think you are to tell me what to do, woman?”
His gaze wanders right down to your bloody chest. You are rather flat chested, but oh you look delicious. Too delicious to take his eyes off you, too delicious to think about saving you. He never hunted after women, was never interested in all those big-chested females with their neck-line hanging to the ground. But you…This looks pleasant.
“Delightful”, he finally speaks out.
Too late for you to hear before your hand smacks roughly into his face.
“I SAID DON’T LOOK!”
“I SAID YOU LOOK DELIGHTFUL YOU LITTLE BITCH!”
“YOU…You what?”
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Geto Suguru
Geto can’t help but stare at you, how your hips swing from side to side, how you wear your cute summer dress so easily. Not only the scorching heat of this summer day, but your sight as well make him feel light-headed.
“Staring again, Suguru?”, his best friend teases him in an instant.
“How could I not stare at her. She looks gorgeous in that dress”, he replies, not able to take his eyes off you.
“But she has no tits.”
You wish you didn’t hear those words leaving Satoru’s mouth, wish you could just giggle like a little girl and let your heart beat out of your chest because Suguru said you look gorgeous. But the second the meaning of his saying hits you, you stop in your tracks.
The stinging fact that your breasts are smaller than those of any other women at Jujutsu High and all those popular girls was always hard to bear for you. But with Suguru by your side, with his words sweeter than honey, you slowly but surely began to feel comfortable in your own skin again. Instead of oversized shirts, you started to wear dresses from time to time, bought the one you’re wearing right now with a slight neckline.
All that, only for your confidence to get crushed by that single comment.
You can’t contain yourself anymore. Without even trying to pretend you didn’t hear his venomous words, you turn on your heel and sprint down in the direction of your dorm. How stupid it was to even consider that a man like Suguru would actually like you back. After all, Satoru is his best friend, it’s clear that you look nothing like the girls they usually hang out with. Maybe your small chest isn’t enough for him…
Tears take your sight completely as you run straight to your room.
“(y/n), wait!”
No, not him. Not right now. Your heart almost drops to the floor when you hear his footsteps close behind you. If Suguru tries to cheer you up right now, you might break down completely.
“Hey, please wait for me.”
Gently, he grabs your wrist and spins you around.
“Let go of me”, you hiss, yanking your arm away out of instinct.
You don’t want to get touched by him, to even see him. God, you were really stupid enough to think that this man with the most tender eyes you’ve ever seen would actually like you back.
“Satoru fucked up with that comment. Hey, look at me. I know he made these comments before and I know you’ve had a hard time because of those stupid comments at school. But I’m here to tell you that I love you just the way you are, (y/n) …God, I love you with all my heart, I love you wearing those dresses, I love the way you move, I love the way you look. And it might sound totally weird, but I love your boobs. I’m…I’m obsessed with you.”
You have to blink a few times, try to process what just happened. Within a few minutes, you’ve heard your crush complimenting you, his friend insulting you for having small breasts and now Suguru is standing in front of you again, confessing his love for you and…your boobs?
“You don’t have to say those things to make me feel better”, you try to brush him off.
“I’m saying this because I mean it, (y/n). And I’ll kick his ass for saying something so stupid about you. When it comes to women, Satoru and I are the opposite of each other”, he explains briefly.
Oh, you are fully aware of the fact that Satoru Gojo hunts after every woman with cups bigger than your head. But something about the way Suguru stands in front of you, how his eyes literally beg you to believe him…
“I have enough of people judging me for something I can’t change”, you warn him.
“I don’t want to change a single hair on your body, (y/n).”
Slowly but surely, your eyes stop to burn in agony, your heart stops to ache, your body wakes up from its trance.
“So…you’re into small chested girls? Why am I supposed to believe this?”
Without wasting another minute Suguru steps forward, engulfs your body. And with one last glance into your widen eyes, he presses his lips against you’re the way he always imagined it.
“Is this proof enough?”
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Gorgeous divider by @saradika 🤍
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k2ntoss · 2 months
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hihi, it me, back again with more jason brain rot, this time brought to you by this random Instagram reel i saw while having dinner lol
anyway, just imagine this with Jay?? like, warm cozy domestic hugs and kisses in the middle of the kitchen?? simple domestic bliss?? absolute dreammmmmm 😭😭
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3nuMFVMRhe/?igsh=MXhqMWdtYTQxbDNqMw==
-🦊
ps. hope you're doing well lovely, miss you <3
i crave and need fluff bc i love me a little sweet jason !!!!!!!!!!! (i'm single and i want a nice relationship) i can't see the reel now BUUUUUT i'm gonna do my magic and be a simp and this could be a second fluffy part to that drabble with subby jason having to skip patrol after getting good head from his gf hehehe you can read thar here
sometimes having your girlfriend to call sick for you so you can take a rest earns you three well deserved days to sleep late and have comforting hours without having to worry about patching wounds or chasing after criminals.
so after a night of being completely unable to move from bed because of how dizzy his head was, he's clumsily going out of the bedroom looking for you, rubbing his eyes to try and push his tiredness away because he didn't liked the feeling of waking up after you, when you had already left the bed and he isn't able to pull you closer and kiss you right away.
it's funny to see him like that, while you wait on the living room drinking a cup of coffee for him to wake up you're able to see him walk out of the room still half asleep but he looks just too cute. jason is a 6ft tall guy, big as a wall and rough but there he was, dragging his feet, his hair all fluffy and the black hoodie he wore to sleep looking messy; you can see him walk to the kitchen and he grunts softly when he sees nobody there but as soon as he turns around he spots you.
you know what jason is about to trap you under his body but damned be his long legs because you're not able to properly set your cup aside when jason is letting his weight fall over you like a tired cat "wait, baby... the coffee" you say between giggles but it's too late when your boyfriend is cuddling himself into your arms, hugging your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck "good morning, jay"
"g' morning, princess..." he mutters, voice is still hoarse but sweet as he greets you "why were you out of bed?" jason asks, kissing softly a small trail in your neck as you wrap one of your legs around his waist.
"were you looking for me, love? i thought about making breakfast for you before you woke up..." you say softly, trying to move and lean a bit to leave your cup on the table but failing when he just cuddles more into your chest making you chuckle softly "you looked so pretty sleeping i couldn't wake you up... are you still tired, red?" and that nickname makes him grin goofily, he loves the way it sounds when you call him that and even more as you keep babying him with soft pecks on his forehead.
"i feel like i could sleep for a month... but only if you're there with me" jason's voice is a low rumble, his words sending shivers through her spine and that mixed with how sweet it was knowing that he wanted you by his side even when his last months as the red hood had been so tiring.
"want to make breakfast with me and then we go eat on bed? we could watch a movie, does that sound good?" you ask him, reaching to cup jason's face between your hands and pressing a soft kiss on his lips which he gladly accepts with a soft purr leaving his throat.
he nods and you can swear he's never looked so calm before, so well rested and it was just what he needed more than anything. jason was sure he had done a lot of harm and there would be days when he didn't feel like deserving you but right now, having his sweet girlfriend to look at him like he hung up the moon and stars makes him feel worthy of love and care, even the big bad red hood deserved to be babied after all.
"then let's go, big guy" you say, starting to squirm in a failed attempt to slide from under jason's body and he chuckles at it before moving with you on his arms, picking your body up and walking to the kitchen as he lets soft kisses fall to your cheeks and neck before putting you back down.
and the morning goes like that, jason wishes he could get more of this. the way you walk around the kitchen as he tries to help, pouting softly when you don't let him do everything because he has to rest, he loves the warmth he feels on his chest as you walk past him and he pulls you back to steal a kiss from your lips before you try to walk away only to end up with him clinging to your back, kissing the top of your head as you cook.
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buckyhad · 9 months
Text
Forever
Pairing: Dark!Carlos Sainz x reader
Warnings: NC thats it, based on this request!
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Carlos was the sweetest boyfriend you have ever had, caring, tending to your needs, loving.
Until he got jealous, every little interaction between you and another men was a reason for him to lash out at you. Nothing serious, it was normal for your boyfriend to feel that way sometimes.
Except that time went he took it a little too far.
"That's the dress you are wearing tonight?" Carlos asked furrowing his brows.
"You don't like it?" You asked a little bit sad, tonight was another gala with the drivers about something you didn't remember anymore, choosing a red long dress, with a low cut and a high slit that you loved.
"Yes, I like it, but you are showing a lot" he said.
"Its just a part of my leg".
"Whatever" you knew he was already working himself up so you just decided to leave it there, thinking that going to the gala and getting some drinks in his system would help him calm down.
But you were so wrong.
You two arrived at the place an hour before, Carlos got some strong drink while you choosed some water, Carlos hated when you drinked.
Alone in some corner while Carlos was at the bar again, waiting for his order, when Charles, Carlos' teammate went to say hi to you, making Carlos start to march where you to were happily chatting, getting there just in time.
"I really like how that dress looks on you" Charles said touching the strap of your dress.
"Thanks you, I love the colour a lot" you said blushing a little bit, taking a step back from the monagesque.
"I know, she looks so nice" Carlos said with his hands on the pockets of his pants "We are going amor, grab your things".
---------
"That's why you used that dress? So you would get compliments from Leclerc?" Was the first thing he said when you got to the hotel.
"No! I really liked how it looks on me!".
"Stop lying!" He said grabbing your arm.
"The fuck is wrong with you" you screamed at him trying to get of his grip.
"You know how much I love you, why do you need to flirt with other guys?"
"I wasn't flirting" you whispered "I'm going to go now, let me go, please".
"I'm sorry amor, I didn't mean to grab you, I'm just so mad" he said looking at you with those pretty big brown eyes "Please, no te vayas (don't go)".
"I just need some time, to think you know".
"Te amo (I love you)".
"I know" you said closing the door and making your way out.
-------
You rented a small apartment on Spain, wanting to be alone for a week, not talking or seeing Carlos.
But he had other plans, leaving at least 50 missed calls per day and thousands of unread messages.
-----
By the fifth day without knowing anything about him, someone knoked on your door, being as tired as you were lately, you just opened the door without looking.
Feeling a hand on your mouth while the person closed the door you felt their breath by your ear.
"You need to be more careful, someone could hurt you" Carlos said.
You tried to take his hand off while he was pushing you towards the table.
"I'm going to take my hand off, you better not start screaming" he said and chuckled "At least not yet".
"What are you doing" you started crying, feeling how his hand pushed your upper half onto the table, and hold you there, while his other hand pushed your dress up and your panties down.
"Read your texts with Charles, 'I'm so sorry that you fighted with Carlos, I'm here if you need anything'" he recited while starting to get his tip wet with some spit.
"Please, he just wanted to be nice. You've lost your mind" you cried feeling how he pushed inside you "Carlos you know I'm not in anything, pull out. Please" got out between sobs.
"Well, you would be mine forever now".
A/N: I'm sososo sorry this took so long, I've been studying for an exam (went sl fucking wrong) and now I've another one, anyways, FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE, happy Carlos won today, sad how they didn't listen to Charles AGAIN
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be-missed · 7 months
Text
Furniture Shop
Tara Carpenter X Fem!Reader
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(picture not mine)
Summary: You and Tara went to IKEA to buy some suitable furniture for your new apartment to fit in with your fun activities.
Warning/s: Smut. Strap-on. Minors dni!
A/N: So, from the poll, Tara won. So here we go, hope you like it. I'm gonna use a different POV, so please tell me if you like this kind of wordings or the ones that I have been using for better service <3. A short one (?). Please lower your expectations, I feel so dumb.
Masterlist
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"Try to bend forward" Tara told you as you now check the 3rd show room for the kitchen section.
"I don't know, it's a bit high for me, and I bet you can't reach me by then" you teased Tara with a laugh that made the other girl gasped.
"You just did not say that Y/N." Tara answered with a fake annoyance in her voice "Well I think we can lower it down right?" Tara said while finding a way if the both of you can just cut the excess wood so that it will both fit your height.
"Baby, let's find another island bench, we are just on the third room anyway." You said while patting Tara's head like a defeated puppy, "But I really like the color scheme of this one baby." Tara said.
"Come on now, if we can't find any, then we will buy this one." You said while kissing Tara's forehead which makes her pout but starts to follow you in the next showroom in which where a living room is set.
You sat down on the middle of the sofa and taps the empty seat on your right and said, "Babe, try to sit down." Tara looked at you with curiosity not knowing what you are planning not until you fakely tossed your phone into Tara's feet.
Tara almost went ahead and grab your phone not until you stopped her hand and you slowly bent your knees and spread Tara's thighs. Which surprised Tara, so now she is sitting on the sofa, her leg spread wide, and you between it, kneeling.
"Hmm..." you stated, "This is is a nice height and a perfect angle when I get to blow your strap." Your statement made Tara's blood rush to her face. You stand up and dusted your knees to look more for other things that you can buy. But that was shocking for Tara, because that was the first time you said that you'll gonna blow her with the strap-on ever since you have ever started dating.
"Come on tomato head we've got a lot of furniture to try on." you said while wearing a smile of victory knowing that you made Tara flustered.
But the only thing that was on Tara's head was "We should get home before we make a scene."
---
"FINALLY!" Tara exclaimed as the both of you finished to screw the last part of the side of the kitchen island that the both of you bought from IKEA four days ago. "I was waiting for this moment, finally." Tara then looked at you with a naughty smirk.
"Can we rest for tonight? My arms got so tired from lifting all these woods" you said while you try to find some mercy in Tara's eyes but your girlfriend was so determined on having you tonight.
Tara steps towards your directions slowly and reaches the side of your face with her hand. She caress it that made you sink into her palm and that relaxed your neck that gave her a lot of space for her face to nestle in.
Tara leaves small kisses into the side of your neck until she reaches your ear and bit your lobe, "Sweetheart, you won't be needing you hands for tonight I promise you."
Tara then anchors her free hand to your waist then started to pepper wet kisses into your neck that made you grab the back of Tara's head and slightly pulled her baby hairs when she is leaving a mark on your pulse point.
Slowly, Tara directed you to your new sofa, not getting off of each other. Tara was now standing in front of your sofa while she slowly pushes you down into your knees. You didn't notice your position as you were so drunk and drowned with Tara leaving marks on your neck.
"Did you think I forgot what you said when we bought this sofa?" Tara said with a sly smile on her face while sat down on the same place you told her when you were shopping for furniture.
Now, you were the one with a tomato head, your blood was now rushing to your cheeks which Tara held and said "Hey, relax baby" putting butterfly kisses throughout your face "We don't need to do this if you are not comfortable" and looked at you directly.
But you were Oh so ready for this day, you have been researching on how can you give the best head to your girlfriend with the dildo on but still giving her pleasure. You were just scared because you don't know if you'll give a good head, no, the BEST head that Tara will ever receive throughout her lifespan. That was your goal, to be the best.
You looked at Tara with determined eyes and kissed her lips passionately, "Thank you baby, but I want to do this." You said while Tara gives you an encouragingly nod.
You started to untie the sweat pants that she was wearing that made the strap swing, you were like a teenager who just saw a dick for the first time, which you are, because you have only been with women that do not explore when it comes to sex, so you were only used to fingers, tongues, and a couple of vibrators.
Tara then encouraged you to put the strap on your mouth when she started to gather your hair and made a pony with her hand "Come on, baby show me what that mouth can do."
You started to lick the head and stride your tongue down to the base. Tara looked at you with so much lust in her eyes that made you wet. Tara wants you to go on your own phase and trust her, if it was for her, her strap would be down your throat any second now with how dirty you lick her whole strap.
After quite some time, lubricating the strap, you then tried to fit the head of the strap in your mouth, slowingly lowering your head to almost fit the strap inside your watering mouth. And Tara then was pleased to see you try to swallow it as a whole.
You tried to really swallow Tara's strap bobbing your head up and down for a couple of minutes trying different angles which made Tara twitch from her seat and tighten her hold towards your hair.
You reached for the base with your right hand that made Tara tug your hair which made you let out a whimper "Nuh uh, baby, you'll only be using your lovely mouth. I remember you were using it pretty well snarking at me the other day." And with that you put both of your hands behind your back that made Tara buck her hips into your mouth that gagged you because holy shit, you being so helpless made her more even horny, she was now fucking your mouth and you were also surprised with you ability to just swallow Tara.
She then pulled the strap around your mouth and pulled you into the kitchen.
"Bend over." Tara said using her tone that you know you can't fight with, and that only made you more wet, imagining if Tara can fuck you like a sex toy and pound you hard while you were bent over pleading for a release.
Tara lowered your sleeping shorts and palmed you through your underwear, "Looks like I don't even need to tease you for tonight baby, you are soaking." and bunched your underwear to the side.
Tara snaked her right hand in front of you inserted her hand into your underwear and started to put pressure, starting with slow big circles from your clit to your drenched whole that made you grinding you ass to the strap. It just made you more wet and you started to release soft moans that encouraged Tara, "Beg."
One word, Tara dropped that one word you were wishing to not hear for tonight. You were so shy to beg for Tara when you two have sex, so you just wait until Tara gets soft to you and fuck you senseless, but tonight, you feel that it's gonna be different.
Tara then started to guide the strap with her left hand onto your slit, dragging it along your wet folds, while her right hand started its journey in groping your breast. Tara just made it harder for you.
You let out whimper after whimpers until Tara aligned the strap and started to slowly enter you. That just made you slump your body into the kitchen island and grabbed the edges until your palm hurt. "At last, Tara's gonna fuck me" You thought, but Tara left the entire length of the strap outside and the head was only inside of you.
"Beg, or I would leave you hanging like this and trust me you wouldn't like to sleep all wet and bothered aren't you." Tara whispered to your ear and started small slow circles with your clit and that made you moan.
"Tara..." You said, and Tara started to move her hips, inserting and taking out the head, "Come on, baby.." Tara said, soothing you back. A second pass and you feel Tara pulled the strap out and that made you panic, trapping Tara's hand with your thigh.
"Please" you almost screamed, you looked back at Tara with her eye brows raised, waiting for more words to come out of your mouth, "I need you, so bad... right now." and bit your bottom lip and Tara said "I know you can do more baby" and grasp your ass with her right hand and continuing the circles on your clit that was now going faster.
"Tara please, I can't take it anymore... I need you please baby" you said with and that was the last straw for Tara, "See, that's not hard isn't it" and slowly inserted the strap inside you that made the both of you moaned.
Tara started a slow rhythm, trying to build you up, you felt a sting on your ass and you realised that Tara just spanked you, and you should feel angry, but that just made you so wet that you even moaned.
"Look at you taking me so well, not so shy anymore huh?" Tara taunted you and you just moaned with how the head of the strap be hitting every right place that your own fingers can't.
The slapping of your skin echoed throughout the whole flat and it made you even hornier. Tara slowed down, and said "Be a good girl and fuck yourself" Tara snaked her left hand in front your body and lifted you up holding you up through your neck.
You started to bounce yourself from Tara's strap which Tara really enjoyed seeing you flex your back so much. "Harder, please" you silently whispered where Tara obliged.
Her left hand started to tighten around your throat and her right hand started to move fast around your clit "I know your close, come on baby." Tara encouraged you more.
"Fuck baby... Tara-" You said while you pinch your nipple to apply more pleasure "I'm close baby... please" You pleaded, that came out so smooth in your tongue.
"Fuck... Come Y/N, don't hold back, cum baby" With Tara still thrusting her hips into you, you moaned Tara's name loud enough to let your neighbors know that your girlfriend be fucking you really good. After a few second past, you feel Tara pushed the strap into you and she came with a moan, whispering your name again and again while she slump down your back.
---
"Shit, this apartment is amazing you guys" Sam told the both of you while she explore the cupboards in your kitchen and seeing the different appliances that you also bought.
You were leaning into the kitchen island bent as like your position last night, as you happily look at Sam appreciate your home.
"Yeah, we tried to really follow a color code so that we can have a theme for our home" Tara said entering the kitchen and placed herself behind you until Sam situated her eyes in the both of you.
Sam looked at the both of you disgustingly "Really, you two planned on fucking in the kitchen?" noticing that the kitchen island was so perfect for the both of you.
You and Tara burst out laughing, "What do you mean we plan, we already did" Tara said while sticking her tongue out to tease her sister.
"What the fuck" Sam quickly went out of the kitchen and into the living room, she was so grossed out on how freaky the both of you. Tara saw Sam was about to seat and said "Oh, I won't seat on that spot if you know what I mean."
Sam hurriedly gathered her things "You know what, I won't be coming to your house not until I see you both sanitize your own shit." Sam then went out the door and made Tara laugh.
"Stop teasing your sister babe" you exclaimed and Tara replied "I can't help it, it is true though" and just pulled you in for a kiss.
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A/N: I hope this satisfy your expectations. I tried writing in this kind of POV. Comments and suggestions are appreciated, hope you enjoyed. Not proofread.
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Text
Girl Next Door- Pt. 2
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader
Word count: 3k
Summary: Simon finally accept your offer for dinner. Did you mention you can cook?
A/N: I was a little slow on this but the idea of them getting close was stressing me out, okay? Also my MIL was in town and I couldn't get in the groove. All the support so far is amazing, thank you guys so much! If y'all like it there will be more to come. Warning: still slow burning
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Part I
━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━
Simon sits across from you at your tiny dining table pressed against the wall of your cramped kitchen. You managed to lure him in with a fairly nice bottle of unopened scotch you found in the back of your cabinet that had potentially fallen into one of your own boxes when moving from your ex's house. 
He looks around your quaint little one bedroom apartment. It was a lot different than his own. The literal layout was the same. No extra rooms or walls but you’d done something different in here. The whole space had a cozy feeling to it. Every surface was decorated with useless gadgets and trinkets that he didn't understand the purpose of. Lots of blankets, pillows, soft things. You had music quietly playing through your TV speakers in the living room. A few lamps fill the dim room creating a subtle yellow glow that hits the high points of your face, softening your tired features.
"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" you suddenly blurt out.
"S'cuse me?" Simon asks, caught off guard by the question.
"Lately I've been feeling like there's something inside of me that attracts horrible guys. Like, is there a beacon coming out my head that says 'hey, come over here. I'm vulnerable and easy'."
Simon pauses, unsure how to respond. He watches your face closely. You're sad eyes looking to him for an answer he doesn't have. "I think you're...nice," but he has a feeling that's not what you wanted to hear.
"nice?" You let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe that's the problem. Nice must translate to doormat," You sigh and drop your head into your hands. 
Simon takes a sip of his drink. He's growing concerned this is entering too friendly territory. Then you pop your head back up.
"So, how much did you hear?"
"Not much"
"Yeah right," You toss him a coy smile. “Can I tell you what happened?”
“Sure,”
“Alright, so” you take a sip of your own drink and a deep breath before recounting your story. "I met him at work. He was really nice and offered to pick me up a coffee on his way in one day. I haven’t made any friends at work yet so it was nice just to chat over a coffee. Then we started having lunch together. Nothing serious just in the break room but it felt good to hear about something other than notes from my editor. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, I mean I moved here to focus on myself not continue dating more crappy guys. So of course he started texting me and he was really sweet. He complimented my outfits and thought all my jokes were hilarious apparently. I really wasn’t trying to get involved with this guy though. He said something about hearing I can cook and of course I said I do. It’s part of my job, duh. He’s giving my shit about it so I invited him over for dinner. I made this creamy potato gnocchi with Italian sausage that I got from that great butcher on the corner. I even hand rolled the gnocchi. I mean, who wouldn't kill for an authentic Italian meal?"
"He's sounds like some guy"
"Not really, I was testing out a new recipe for the column so, two birds one stone. Anyways, he comes up and we have some wine and listen to some music. It was going really well so far. Then I go to bring out a nice charcuterie board for an appetizer while the pasta finishes baking. While I'm bringing it to him I can see he's on his phone, texting someone and literally giggling. I walk up behind him and he is sexting. On my couch!" you throw you hands up incredulously. "Well, I thought he was. He’s looking at a picture of some girl bent over then I realize it’s me. He took a picture of my ass, while I was making him dinner. I couldn't fucking believe it. What kind of a scumbag does that to a woman preparing a fucking meal for him? Now, this is not something I'm proud of so let the record show this is very out of character for me but these were extraordinary circumstances. So, I dropped the fig chutney on his head. Right in his stupid quaffed hair. He jumps up and he's all mad and starts yelling and I'm yelling back. He calls me a crazy bitch then I call him a perv. After that he left." you conclude with a shrug.
"Wow" Simon responds, truly taken aback by the series of events. 
"Yeah, then you know the rest from there. I don't know what came over me. I guess after my last breakup I haven't felt very good about myself and this guy made me feel, I don't know- fun? That feels silly to say. I should’ve known better from a guy that works the celebrity gossip section. I probably looked like a big baby out there, how dramatic. I'm sorry about that, again."
"You don't need to apologize."
"After I moved here I thought things would be different. I thought guys in the city were classier I guess. Turns out all guys are the same. Just take what they want and go. Do you want another drink?" You point to his now empty glass. 
"Sure." You snag his cup and stand. He watches you walk over to the counter in your silky slip dress. The sleek fabric clings to your waist. Flaring around your hips and down your thighs. The warm light reflects on the shiny material, shifting with each step you take. It tightens perfectly about your waist and cinched with a neat little bow in the back. He wonders why you would wear a dress like that for this guy.
"So, do you date?" you question in a seemingly casual tone.
"No" 
"Yeah right," you laugh and look over your shoulder to see his stoney expression and your smile fades. "Oh, sorry, I just- I find that hard to believe."
"Why is that?" He tilts his head and you focus back on filling his glass. 
"It's just, you're a good looking guy. I would think you'd get plenty of female attention," You pivot back around and place the glass before him. You lean on the table with one hand and prop the other on your waist. 
"'M not interested," his gaze stays fixed on the brown liquid, grabbing it and taking another sip. He doesn't miss the way you deflated the slightest bit. 
"Maybe I should take a page out of your book, as in maybe swearing off men completely" The oven timer dings. "Oh! pasta!" You jump over and grab your oven mitts. You drop the oven door and slide out the sizzling dish. An aroma of cheese and basil fills the air. Your stomach audibly growls.
You pull down two plates from your cabinet. You serve up the steaming pasta, sprinkling parmesan and fresh chopped herbs for garnish. You proudly carry over the two dishes and place them carefully on the table. You place your hands on your hips while gazing down at the platter.
"This looks...great." Simon is truly taken aback by the incredible looking dish. 
"Wait, don't eat yet. Let me get a picture." You scamper into your living room, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and scurrying back. You hold your phone high above for a birds eye view. Simon scoots his chair back to avoid the gaze of the lens. The camera clicks with a flash. You examine the photo, seeming satisfied with the quality and finally taking a seat in your own chair. "It was okay if you were in the picture. I don't mind." 
"I do," he says simply. 
To anyone else, Simon comes off as rude or callous but you, you never seem to let his shortness affect you. You take his words and just keep going. You don't mind his lack of conversation. It seems you are totally satisfied with having someone there to listen. He was starting to think he didn't mind listening so much. 
"Oh," You shift uncomfortably in your chair. "Sorry then. Well, let me know what you think. Try to be detailed with your feelings about it if you can. You're my guinea pig and be honest. I don't want to put this out when it's garbage."
He proceeds to take a forkful in his mouth. He cannot control the groan that escapes his throat as the bold flavor hits his tongue. This is far cry from his usual take away food. He can't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal now that he thinks about it. 
"This is quite good." He grumbled between bites. Not caring to finish chewing before he's stabbing at the pasta on the plate once again. 
"Really? You don't need to be nice to spare my feelings. I don't mind criticism."
He shoves more in his mouth. "I’m serious"
"Thank you" You giggle watching him scarf down the still steaming hot meal. 
The two of you finish your respective plates without much more conversation to be had. On your last few bites you meet Simon's eyes as he reclines back in the creaky wooden chair, hands laying across his stomach. His head tips back with a satisfied grumble making a proud smile play across your lips. This may be the first time you've seen him express a true human emotion in your presence. 
"There's more if you want?"
"No, I'm stuffed." 
If you know one thing as a part time chef, food is the way to a man's heart. You knew if Simon tasted what you could make his ice exterior would melt away. You stand up and walk to the fridge. 
"Too stuffed for dessert?" you pull out a glass bowl filled with layers of custard, strawberries, cake, and whipped cream. "I made a traditional English trifle. Y'know for the holidays coming up and who doesn't love custard?" you shrug while carrying the bowl over to the table. You hurry back to the kitchen to grab two saucers and plate up the dessert.
"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to butter me up." he comments, intently watching as you carefully slice through the layers. "What do you know about English food?" 
"Not much, which is why this is a special occasion. I can get some insight from a genuine Englishman," you slide the saucer to him. "Everything happens for a reason, I guess you were meant to be here tonight" you don’t realize how weird that comment is until it's already left your mouth. You suppress the feeling and internally cringe. You take a seat with your own plate and try a bite. "Hey, that's not too bad. I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud"
Simon actually chuckles when you compliment yourself making you giggle in return. This whole night is very different than you expected. Not that you were complaining.
Your leg bumps his underneath the narrow table. Your bare foot brushing up the edge of his pant leg for the briefest moment. A deep blush rises to your cheeks the second you realize it's his leg instead of the table's. 
"Oh, sorry!" you quickly draw your legs underneath your chair. Simon pauses his eating and meets your gaze. 
"S'alright," he slowly slides his long leg across the distance and nudges the shin of your tucked legs with the toe of his boot. "You scared?"
"What?" you allow your legs to relax, your calves sitting on either side of his outstretched leg. It felt natural, almost domestic. "You don't scare me." you're lying paired with an anxious laugh.
"No?" As he says this his foot shifts underneath the supports of your chair and yanks it forward causing your chair to skid a few inches across the tile, pressing you further into the table as you let you a surprised yelp. Hands brace against the edge of the table. Simon maintains his calm composure. "Are you sure?" he takes another bite of the fluffy dessert. 
You weren't sure if it was the liquor going to your head or the rush of adrenaline but you felt bold. You rest your cheek on your propped up hand, offering the most innocent eyes you can muster, as you delicately slide your foot along the smooth leather of his boot. Simon swallows and gently places his fork back on the table.
"What do you think of it?" you question in a hushed tone. your foot travels further up his ankle, dipping under his pant leg to feel his hot skin underneath. 
"It's sweet," He states simply but his words roll off his tongue smooth as butter. 
"Not too sweet?" You tilt your head the slightest bit.
"Hm," he hums in contemplation. Your eyes drift down to watch his hands grasp his drink. He grips the glass in his large palm. The rolled sleeves of his long sleeve reveal the muscles in his arm shifting when he raises the glass to his mouth. For the first time you notice a faint raised scar cutting through the outer corner of his lip and stopping just shy of the edge of his nose. He takes a long swig of the brown liquid, not quite finishing the drink. As he pulls back his lips glisten in the warm light. "Not bad when it's paired with a stiff drink," his tongue is quick to swipe across, collecting the residue. 
"I'll be sure to make a note of that." you smile sweetly. "Can I get you another drink?" You look down at the last sip coating the bottom of the glass. You make sure to flutter your lashes when you look back up at him. 
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" A smirk raises the corner of his mouth.
"No," you laugh. "Why, do you want me to?" 
He releases a deep gravelly laugh that makes your stomach stir. Then he glances at his watch and your stomach drops. 
"I need to get going." He mumbles. He pulls his leg away from yours and rises out of his chair. 
"Wait," you rush to stand, almost knocking your seat over in the process. "Can I- uh- get you a bit of pasta to go? There’s plenty left" Trying to think of any excuse to keep him here a moment longer. 
"S'okay, save it. Maybe I'll come by another time." He turns and steps out of your kitchen and into the hallway leading to your front door in only a few wide strides. 
"Are you sure?" You don't intend for your voice to come out as needy as it does. You follow on his heels like a lost puppy.
"I've got an early morning." Before he reaches the door he turns, seemingly surprised by how close you are to him. He looks down at your big round eyes. 
"Okay," you smile trying not to look defeated. "Well, you're welcome over anytime. I mean it, just knock and I'll probably be home. I'm gonna try writing at home more. Try to avoid that guy." You let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Maybe, you should get my number. Y'know, in case you want to check if I'm home."
"I'm alright, I'll just knock" His hand finds the doorknob. "Thanks for dinner, it was nice" Then he turns to go. Closing the door politely behind him. 
You rush to the peephole, watching his distorted figure step out of sight followed by the sound of his own door shutting. You rest your hot forehead against the cool wood grain of your door. 
You step back in the kitchen and begin putting away the leftovers. Piling the pasta into tupperware, rinsing the plates, collecting silverware. His glass remains in place with a sliver of scotch leftover. You hold the glass up in the light and see a faint smudge on its rim. You twist the cup around so your own mouth lines up with the imprint he left. You swallow the last bit slowly, savoring the way the sharp burn eases into a smooth, smoky aftertaste. You never liked scotch, but now you are starting to understand the meaning of an acquired taste.
The low atmospheric music is abruptly interrupted by an ad loudly cutting through the calm space. You rush into the living room to find the remote, hiding among the cushions and various throw pillows. Growing frustrated you end up walking over and manually hitting the power button. The silence that replaces it isn’t much better though. You step back and let your weak legs carry you until you collapse onto the comfort of your couch. The wine followed by the glass of scotch you polished off makes your head feel light but your limbs so heavy. You turn from your back to your side, realizing the used glass is still clutched in your hand. 
You reach across the gap and set it down on the coffee table with a thud. Your hand retreats back to rest under your head. You stare at it, taking in all the imperfections left on its reflective surface. Your eyes trace the rim once again looking for the smudge. On the corner you see the shadow of an impression peeking out underneath the red lipstick mark you have smeared over it. 
𝜗𝜚
Across the wall Simon falls back on his own couch. He looks around his dull apartment wondering what you have done differently to make your place look so welcoming. He never minded the minimal decorations he had. A photo frame with his team that his buddy gifted him and a couple of books always seemed like enough. After comparison though it just feels empty. 
He can hear you stomp across your floor. Footstep rushing from the kitchen until you're straight ahead. The sound of your TV turning off bathes the room in sudden silence. Only thing he can hear now is the rushing of his air conditioning unit. He considered your music annoying but now he couldn’t deny the way it added an unconscious energy to the small unit. Now sitting here, the cool tone of the overhead kitchen light illuminating into the living room he feels as though something is missing. Maybe a nice lamp would help. 
━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━
@azkza @neurolept @contractedcriteria @hidden-treasures21 @sprokat @stark-red19
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suguruplsr · 6 months
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Let me be your cure
featuring.. Alhaitham
✰ ✰ ✰ You gave up on love after being affected with the infamous hanahaki. With pity and sadness slowly swallowing your life whole, you end up in the hospital. Reluctant to getting surgery. And your boring, sadly hot, doctor doesn't seem to care. At least until he finds himself thinking about you.
,, x fem!reader , reader had an ex fiancé who was shitty , fluff w/ angst + comfort , mentions of blood and bruises (caused by the disease) , purely fictional! i know nothing about how hospitals actually operate or if things in my story are or are not allowed! so as you read, remember its purely fictional!
+ disease used is called hanahaki! and it is fictional, and used in many fictional stories, like mine. in shorter terms, a character affected by this disease coughs up flowers and, usually, blood, because of rejection or the loved character not loving them, (without it being said too!). it’s mostly solved with the loved character realizing their love for mc and saving them. or in other cases, the mc getting surgery and losing feelings for the loved character.
↬ 1K Event Masterlist
wc: 5K+
- divider @/benkeibear
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“Why are you staring?" You huff, making the gray-haired man in front of you nearly lose his composure. There’s no reason why someone like him should be stuck with some bratty woman. Okay, maybe he should have some sympathy. considering it’s a part of his job. “Ma’am, I'm just evaluating your physical health by sight for now.” You groan, turning your head away.
You’re literally going to die within this year and You can’t even at least get someone who is a bit more bubbly and nice to be around! not some cold guy with looks that could kill.
His eyes were unique. like targets or darts, probably? Your confuzzled mind couldn’t make sense of most things at the moment, but you felt strange underneath his gaze. intimidated. even without looking at him.
“Maybe if you wiped that scowl off your face, you wouldn't be in this situation. Probably drove the guy off." Alhaitham mutters. Yeah, yeah, it’s unprofessional, but he wasn’t disappointed with your reaction. His eyes lingered around your face, noticing how your tired, red eyes widened. But your lips curled, as if satisfied, mixing with the disbelief in your words. "Oh, you must be the funniest one around. What? Was I supposed to just smile? Say, 'Oh, I don’t mind, you’re fucking your secretary! Let’s plan our honeymoon, though!’ And hope to continue our romantic story?” You sneer, rolling your eyes dramatically.
“Well, it clearly didn’t work.” Alhaitham almost snickers. finding amusement in your extroverted attitude. He jots down a few more noticeable signs of your defect. Your lips look like they’ve been bit a lot, your nails are brittle, and your hair is frizzy and not taken care of. These are pretty normal things that the nurses should be able to help with. But he does eye the areas that aren’t just normal, like the bruises that reached to your neck or the ones on your arms that the gown does little to hide.
As you ramble on about your not-so-perfect love story, Alhaitham flips through the history of your visitors. It’s been three weeks since you were hospitalized, and there has been only one visitor since the day you came. which he’d assume was your mother or father. “Not a lot of friends or family?” He interrupts, his tone maybe a tiny bit softer than how firm it usually is. simply out of respect, of course. “Yeah, well, when you choose to die on your hill, not everyone wants to watch." You chuckle, smiling a bit.
He’d think that smile wouldn’t meet your eyes—cliche, right? But it did—a smile that wasn't too happy and an expression that wasn't too happy. But he merely hums in agreement, having no words of comfort and fixing his binder.
“Anyways, a female doctor will come and do a physical inspection before we prepare for your x-ray appointment in a few days. Although it seems that the roots of the flower may be growing and causing damage from the inside, His words make you waver, looking down at your lap. Was this really a good choice? It’s probably too late for surgery—not like you want one, but...
Alhaitham studies the visible emotions crossing your face before heading towards the door. “Make sure you ask for some food; you’re heavily malnourished."
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The next few weeks have been bland. You wake up around 10 AM, and usually the nurse you’ve learned to call, Ms.Candace, is bringing your food inside and having a small conversation with you. Eventually, she begins the morning routine, doing your hair with a nice side of warm herbal tea. Chapstick, nails, and a light pair of pajamas, and then talking about what you’d like to do for the rest of your day.
But just when you think you won't ever have to see that snobby doctor,
“Unfortunately for you, you won’t be able to go outside.” Alhaitham steps into the room, clipboard in hand, and shoots a look of no remorse towards your huff. “And why not? I haven’t seen the light of day for what feels like months."You scoff, making the blue-haired woman beside you sigh. "Well, miss, your body is already becoming slower, and there’s signs you are getting weaker in general. I'm sure he’s just wanting to prevent your state from getting any worse.” Yet her sweet words do little to calm the bubbling feeling within your chest.
You shake your head as she goes to walk out, giving the gray-haired man one more look before the door closes. He ignores it, “Anyway, after the results of your recent checkups, the estimate of how much time you have left to live was determined. but I doubt it’ll affect you considering you’re one stubborn woman." Alhaitham raises his eyebrows at you, anticipating your rebuttal before you can even get it out. but instead, you suddenly get into a fit of coughs. It’s like an eruption within your chest. the tiny tree within, sending an array of attacks.
You hate it—the prickly feeling that wells up, like knives cutting your insides as flowers sputter and fall into the palm of your hand. Your eyes water from the odd sensation you’ve lived with, and you question yourself with the same old question you uttered the day you made your decision.
Was it worth it?
Was it worth sticking with a man who never had to even speak of his loss of love for you? The yellow carnations were enough. Symbolizing the rejection you’ve faced from him, something you never thought you’d ever have to endure after your relationship was taken to the next level,
Alhaitham had grabbed the new form of medication you were going to start using, a syringe filled with yellow liquid. He grabs your arm, his eyes quickly traversing around your body, especially your throat, for signs that may be more alarming than they should be. He looks into your eyes, seeing the panic and fear that have swelled within them. “I know it hurts, but breathe...” He whispers, keeping your arm firmly still as the syringe prickles into your skin. You look away in fright. You hate needles, but you hate this even more.
The spiky feeling in your throat slowly subsides as you spit out some blood. "I'm fine now...” Your croaky voice makes him jeer, swiftly grabbing a band-aid for the little spot of blood on your arm. "You aren’t. You’re, quite literally, dying. Although it seems like you may be dying way faster than I thought.” He sighs, moving around the room and grabbing a few of your medications. “We'll have to give you stronger medication to reduce the pain. I'll have Ms. Candace and a few other people come help you," he says, leaving almost as quickly as he came.
The nurses come in within a short time, the room bustling with movement and questions being directed towards you. The blood staining the pretty gold ring on your finger makes you finally wake up.
You’re actually dying.
And it’s for a man who swears he could never love you again.
Oh, how tricky fate can be with those stupid I love you's.
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“How’re you feeling?” Alhaitham mumurs. You’ve been ignoring the man who sat in front of you, all silent, ever since the fiasco yesterday. You could only stare down at the ring around your finger, twisting it and sometimes daring to fully shed it off your finger.
You don’t have the guts to do that, even if he did. without any hesitation either.
“With how much you talk, I'm surprised you aren’t yelling at me for just existing.” He muses, his eyes flickering from his clipboard up to where you sit on the hospital bed. You don’t have the energy to banter with him, "I'm not that childish.” “You’d be surprised." His mutter makes you jolt, your face twisting into a pout.
“It sounds like you just have a problem with me!” you gibe. but Alhaitham’s eyebrow raises. as if you hit the target with that one. "Possibly," he mumbles, focusing back on the papers in front of him. Your fusses fall dead on his ears.
His problem with you wasn’t bad—more like pity. Something he rarely feels for patients, only understanding their situations, giving affirmations, and moving on. but he finds your situation simply ridiculous. Not only are you dying for a man who left you for another, but he doesn’t even have the respect to pay for your medical fees. Not to mention, literally, your mother was the one who paid, only stating to him that she has no plans on visiting and that he was allowed to do whatever once you died.
What a heartless woman!
“Since you’re so absorbed in that paper—“ “You must not have an ‘off’ button.” His eye twitches at the tone of your annoyance, all sickly and sweet. He could practically hear the joke Cyno would make. "Actually, I do. and it’s counting down. Speaking of, you never told me how long I have left.” Okay, maybe you were a bit funny. and it’s something that should definitely not make his lips almost form into a smile. However, he clears his throat, not bothering to flip through the mountain of pages. considering he already memorized the information. “Two months at least. With the rate at which your body is deteriorating, the best you’ll be able to last is maybe an extra week or two.
Alhaitham’s stomach strangely twists at the sight of your mood dampening once again. your head looking back down to your arms, and your lips pressed tightly together. But it wasn’t like he cared; it’s just interesting to see how fast the light can disappear from one’s eyes. something he realized long ago that he'd see a lot of.
It’s probably just from how tense the room got all of a sudden. nothing he can’t handle.
Before you know it, droplets of tears fall onto the blanket bunched around your lap, like a rainfall that just doesn't stop. no matter how fast you bring your hands up to wipe them away. "Sorry, I'm just going—" “Go ahead. I see it every day." Alhaitham doesn’t let you argue. He pulls out a small handkerchief from his chest pocket, inscribed with the letter A in cursive. but he doesn’t mind your slight humiliation, or whatever it is making you uncomfortable in front of him, looking away and grabbing a piece of paper.
Once your blurry eyes are clear, you see that he has left you in silence, leaving behind a sheet of paper. clutching the white cloth, you read the words, a smile blooming on your face. Make a bucket list.
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“Abiding by our policies, you can’t get your nails painted.” Alhaitham shuts down the 20th idea you had. He sat in the chair in front of you, avoiding the glare you threw at him and skimming through the third row. Maybe she should’ve predicted that a dying person would want to do exactly, one hundred and one, things before their death.
But it’s not like he’s done this before.
"Okay, what, can I do?!” You huff, already fed up with the word ‘no’. "Well, since you can’t go out, we can watch that movie, ’scream’, here." Alhaitham sighs, watching how your whole mood lit up, your eyes almost sparkling. This is going to be a long two months.
“mhm! what else.” You giggle, clapping your hands together. It’s almost comical to him to see how expressive you are. Looking back down at the paper he held, he began picking out some of the activities you would be able to do.
And in the end, you ended up winning him over in a few things, like being able to use some make-up for fun, more movies, specific snacks that you’ll have to eat at very specific times, board games that you convinced him to play with you, and basically anything and everything that you can do with the tiny little home of your room.
You even managed to persuade the silver-haired man to let you get some press-on nails. nails, which Candace, thankfully, went out to buy. but surprisingly, the doctor decided to put them on you himself. since Ms.Candace was attending to another patient and he had some free time. Well, at least that was his excuse. Not like you know, he was simply curious to see your excitement over something so small.
“That one fits the ring finger more.” You correct Alhaitham again, making him squint his eyes, mumbling under his breath, and moving his fingers to hold your hand firmer. And you just so happen to be right. He sets it aside carefully, putting it in the line of pretty pink and black gemmed nails. He picks up the last smaller nail, the one that finally fits your index finger perfectly.
“Isn’t it pretty?” You smile, adoring the nails, as he concentrates on applying the fake nails. He gives a low tsk, a faux look of confusion on his face. "Well, I dunno, they’re kinda...” he trails off, a neatly structured, stoic expression on his face that makes you roll your eyes. “They’re cute!” “If you say so.” Your adorable little glare makes him want to egg you on, but he stays silent for now.
Wait— Adorable? Maybe he has a headache from your nagging or something; there is nothing to worry about now.
You study his expression unknowingly; your eyes just so happened to need something to latch onto. And he’s clearly got a nice view. better than the nails. The small scrunch of his eyebrows is obviously dedicated to something so simple that it almost concerns you. Even the way he holds your hands up is tender, contrasting with his slightly calloused hands. He has a beautiful face too, and you think you can see some muscles hidden under his coat.
Sculpted so gorgeously. Funny, for such a snarky man.
“How old are you?” You blurt out, looking up at him as he glances at you in confusion. “Why?” He asks softly, almost done with your second hand as you contemplate. “Just curious.” “Curiosity killed the” “but satisfaction brought it back.” You finish before he can fully say the little saying. A small smirk of victory forms on your lips when he gives you a look that just radiates sass.
“Twenty-seven.” He gruffed. Perfect. “How did you even become a doctor so young?" You question him, a look of surprise crossing your face as he shrugs. “A few golden opportunities.” “Wait, are you not going to ask me how old I am?” You’re so clueless, Alhaitham thinks. “I’m your doctor. You must really not have a brain.” And you scoff at his words, but yet another question pops into your head. “Anyways! Favorite color?” “Are you serious, right now?" “If you don’t answer, I will personally file a complaint." "Green."
You two eventually ended up having a long conversation, with you asking him questions and him answering reluctantly. But what made it so long was him turning it on you and asking a few questions that you gladly responded to. All the while, he held one of your hands, not ever thinking to let go and just studying the ring you still wear. What a bubbly woman you are.
Alhaitham nearly let a curse out to the man who wronged you when you mentioned him once. He doesn’t care much, but how can someone be so stupid?
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Alhaitham looks at the time on his watch. Two-thirty. Zipping up his lunch box, he heads towards the elevator, making a small stop in the room full of medicines. He ignores the calls in his name from other doctors or nurses who simply want to know more about the quiet man. He hates spending his breaks around people. Sadly, this just so happens to be one of the times when he’d love to have his headphones.
But duty calls.
He taps the button to go to the ninth floor, where your room is. Today is your movie day. That just so happened to land on Friday, the thirteenth too. He swipes through his notes, finding the password to his Hulu subscription. He only bought that for the movie series you like to watch on the smart TV installed in your room. *’Scream’ was it? Today you two were watching the fifth one, and you somehow logged him out for the third time within a week. Ms. Candace said you were snooping through the account settings or something like that.
What a hassle you are!
He reaches the high floor after a few seconds, making his way to your room and memorizing the password that he surprisingly always forgets. But, when he opens the door, he’s greeted with the sight of you fast asleep. Something makes him dread the energy you’ll have later in the evening, but he’s mindful of your rest. Placing his bags on the table silently and taking off his coat, he put it on the hook of the door.
The silence within your room is nice, for once. Usually, only the tension of your attitude or sadness would lie in the silence of this room. But only your light snores and the small drag of a chair were heard. Alhaitham moves to sit in a corner, thinking about leaving and having an extended break or waiting for you until you wake. But he picks the latter, crossing his arms and legs, leaning back, and letting his eyes drift onto your figure.
His mind was maybe a bit more active than before. He doesn’t know why, but he finds himself thinking of you more often: your health, your many expressions, your cheeky smiles, the dumb stuff that comes out of your mouth, and your eyes. To him, eyes are the purest form of honesty. like how yours can look like saucers when you’re shocked or diamonds when you're happy. or a pit of sadness.
Sadness. Alhaitham would think your only source of sadness in life was that fiancé of yours. Well, ex by now. A man who caused you so much pain that you’ve decided to live and die with. How could you ever love again if you’re so committed like this? But Alhaitham won’t ask you such things, out of respect, of course. It’s not like he’ll be pondering over them in a few weeks.
He shakes off the weird thoughts, dozing off.
You woke up to the sight. ‘What a sight for sore eyes.’ You quote in your head. You almost want to wipe away your eyes with how fine that man looks. Despite how creepy it was to notice the doctor in the corner of your room, His head was leaned against the wall, and his body stilled like stone as he slept. And his arms—Oh his arms. His arms were practically bulging out the scrubs he wore, so muscular. You almost want to touch them. Well, at least you know he keeps up with his gym regimen. Good thing he’s sleeping; now you can admire him more.
“You must have a staring problem.”
Maybe not.
His voice was a bit raspy, laced with tiredness as his eyes fluttered open, straight to you. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You divert him. Eyes away from him with an obvious flustered expression on your face. Alhaitham’s lips tug into a tiny, knowing smile, humored. But he decides to play along and not tease you any longer. “I’m not going to interfere with a patient's sleep.” He sighs, standing tall and going to put back on his coat. He checks the time. 4 PM.
“Before you watch your movie full of blood, you need your dosage.” Alhaitham ignores your whine in response, picking up the wrapped syringe in his white bag. “Ugh, why do I have to do three a day anyway? I’m feeling well.” You huff, holding out your arm as he walks to you, closing your eyes in anticipation. “That’s exactly why.” He mutters, holding your arm gently. “Breathe.” He says it softly, feeling your fast heartbeat on your wrist. “I clearly am." "Well, calm down.”
You purse your lips, complying and taking some deep breaths. Once his thumb presses the familiar spot between your forearm and arm, you feel the prick in your skin. Then comes the tingly feeling of fluid entering your body. You shiver, unexpectedly clutching his hand as your chest tightens. Alhaitham watches in interest, allowing you to hold onto him until the pain passes. "Can we watch that movie now?" You mumble, making him give your hand a final squeeze before letting go.
He grabs the remote on the table, turns on the TV, and flicks through the streaming services. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I think you like looking at something else,” he offhandedly mentions, giving you a small jab at your earlier actions and glancing down at the little funny face you gave him. “Oh c’mon!”
“What? It was just an assumption."
“But! Ugh!”
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“Again!” You groan before Alhaitham can even slot his red chip into the blue holder. You’ve lost maybe five or six games of Connect Four now, sitting at this stupid table with this stupid game for maybe an hour and a half. "No, I can do it." Alhaitham says this while sitting back into his chair with that signature cross of his legs. “And why is that?” “It’s getting late.” And you pout, laying your head on the table as he watches you.
Those little target-like eyes of his drill into you. Moreso, the purple veins that have formed on your neck over the past month The area is dark, and the veins are even darker. There were parts of your body that suffered from the disease; your health was deteriorating so badly that it made him sick. You’ve become slower, unable to even stay awake for longer than eight hours. He and Ms. Candace have been hovering over you with every last second of your life, with the knowledge that you could drop dead at any moment.
“Not a good look, huh?" You murmur, feeling awful under his watchful gaze. And Alhaitham’s cocks his head, not entertained by your words. “Did I say that?”
"It's on your face."
“You have poor judgment, then."
And your face scrunches up, looking at him with an annoyed look. “What else would you think, then?” Alhaitham bites his tongue. something he doesn’t do a lot. Well, not at all. It’s not like him to interfere with a patient's choice, but...
“I’d think that you should get that operation.” He sighs, not bothering to take his eyes off you as you turn your head away. “Doctor. You know I—“ “Are you seriously letting a man who isn’t here dictate how your life ends?” He scoffs, letting a tone of disbelief creep into his voice before realizing his own words. But Alhaitham doesn’t correct himself.
He was already correct.
"Okay, well, why do you care? And yes, I know you’re my doctor and everything, but, you don’t act like this." You give him a pointed look, sliding the lever of the blue grid and letting the coins fall into the bin. “I’m just saying. Anyone in their right mind would at least be honest with you about this.” Alhaitham shrugs, but the truth is that he truly could not stand to see you like this. So in his right mind, he did the least he could do.
It's not like you know his true feelings.
You ponder over his words, playing with the ring on your left hand. He was right. But perhaps you expected too much from that damned man, the man you fell in love with classically, high school sweethearts who swore to marry, and oh, how so close you were to that dream.
Not every story has a happy ending.
But who were you to let some shitty man write your story’s ending while he goes to some fucking island with his fucking bimbo?
An idiot is what you’d be.
“Sure.” You whisper, bringing your elbow up and laying your head on your hand. Alhaitham gives you a look of satisfaction, a knowing smile forming on his face as he stands up. “I knew you weren’t that dumb.” “You know nothing!” You scoff, your chest bubbling with excitement for your future as you get ready to put away the board game. But he pulls the grid towards him and says, "You won’t need this here. I’ll just take it home.” He says it casually, making you pause.
“But it was a gift to me? Why—" “Do you seriously not know how to take a hint?” What’s with this man always interrupting you? You scowl. Hint? What hint—"Oh, wait—are you like, inviting, me over or something?” And Alhaitham only makes a sound of agreement, dropping the chips in the bin into the box. “yea, and I won’t be your surgeon, obviously. But once the day of your appointment comes, you won’t see me around. Just talk to Ms. Candace after they release you."
Alhaitham cleans up as you tuck yourself into bed, playing the background show of your choice before leaving with a small click of the door.
You can’t believe it. You aren’t dying in three weeks. and you’re going on a date. Well, in a month, but still!
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“Um, should I just call him? I don’t want you to trouble you any longer. You were dressed in a fine black dress that Candace willingly gave to you. Your body healed after the operation within a few weeks of rest and food. You hadn’t seen the doctor—well, Alhaitham—since the day before your appointment.
So basically, a long time.
But after getting released from the hospital, Candace took you in and helped you familiarize yourself with life. And she just so happened to tell a specific man that you made a full recovery. which his immediate reply was, for you to come over to his house for dinner.
It was about time for him to properly pursue you.
“Oh? You must be eager to see him. He’s just a little car ride away, but if you insist, Candace teases, her eyes glimmering in amusement as she hands you your phone. You look at yourself in the mirror again; it feels so refreshing to actually see yourself healthy, not scrawny and filled with scotches of purple on your skin.
You spent over an hour in the mirror, buttering yourself up with some light makeup of your choice and admiring yourself.
You take the phone from her hand, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you get to his contact. "There is no need to be nervous. I’m sure he’d swoon just from the sound of your voice.” She smiles, making you laugh, and clicks the call button. "Oh, please, he’s not that—
"You finally called."
You shiver at the sound of his voice. Who the hell answers the phone so quickly? “Sorry, but, uh, I was wondering if you could come pick me up." You aren’t sure how the tone of your voice got meek so quickly, but for some reason, it makes him chuckle. “*yea? I’m already on my way.” Maybe you were too sick to realize how hot his voice actually is, even just on the phone.
Candace notices how stiff you are, clearly flustered and shy. She leans to the phone and says, “What a gentleman you are! I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you! She might lose her head if you don’t hurry.” She sings, clicking the red button as you fall into her hug.
You two talk about some things you might be interested in doing in the future, like continuing your career and education in technology or finding a job soon so you can get out of her hair. It really feels nice, like you’re actually becoming something rather than being a little housewife with a fiancé who never took the time to love you.
You drift away from the conversation on cereal before milk when you hear a honk outside. Candace jumps up, holding your hand and guiding you to the door. “I feel like a mother,” she smiles, making you give her a grin. “You’re younger than me!” “But I’m wiser. Have a nice night, hun.” She opens the door for you, giving you the sight of a Black Cadillac parked beside her driveway.
You walked down the driveway nervously, clutching the sides of your dress with your purse in your other hand. Just as you reach the car, Alhaitham gets out, walking around to open your door but stopping you with a hand just barely ghosting your waist.
You two stare into each other's eyes, a light breeze blowing through the evening air as he looks you up and down. while you do the same. It felt like a blessing to be able to see his figure without those stupid scrubs. He wore a gray button-up with black slacks, simple but fitting. with some small amounts of jewelry that complement him well. Before you can even try your hand at being confident, he speaks before you: “You look decent." "I spent over two hours on this outfit! And you say, "Decent?"You huff playfully, the weight of your heart already dissipating when he gives an airy laugh, opening the door.
“Then I apologize..gorgeous." “That is so corny.” You jest, despite the increase in blood flowing to your cheeks. “I tried. But I was honest.” He sighs, almost disappointedly, but is careful of your legs before closing the door. Your mind races as you get comfortable in the car, noticing the light scent of cologne. How fancy.
At least it was better than those strong perfumes. like a dark, regal scent, but brisk.
“I was hoping to make you dinner, and then we can play another game I bought for you.” Alhaitham gets in, buckling up before giving Candace, who stood at her door, a small wave. “Yea?” “Yea.” You smile bashfully, your cheek bones betraying you as you hold your hand out. “I’d like that.” And Alhaitham returns your smile, examining your hand.
No ring. But he already has one in mind.
It’ll be silver.
He puts his hand in yours, interlocking it and squeezing firmly. “And I promise you’ll love it.”
Hopefully, you’ll love him too.
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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Baby, If You Only Knew
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x female Reader
Part Two of this fic, inspired by Taylor Swift's I Can See You
Summary: On the edge of a break, you and Spencer find ways to claim each other that get everyone's attention.
Warnings: Day 17 of Kinktober - make-up sex, possessive Spencer, marking, biting, love bites/ hickeys, penetrative sex, creampie, breeding kink.
A/N: Day 17 is finally here! I once again wrote this on my phone, but at least it was my nice, new, functioning phone. I hope you like it!
Sneaking back out of the closet wasn't easy when you were so pissed at Spencer. He wasn't able to control his impulses, and now it was your problem. So yes, it was hard to storm out of a closet in the middle of an argument without drawing the attention of all your team members. 
They each sent you strange looks as you walked back to your temporary desk and finished up your work, not talking to anyone until the days work had ended and you could escape back to your motel room for some much needed peace. 
Spencer didn't feel so strongly about your need to be alone. Catching a hand around the door before you shut it, he let himself in and closed it behind himself as you hugged and threw your bags down. 
"I don't want to fight again, Spencer, I'm tired."
"Then don't fight, but you need to listen." 
"Oh, do I? Couldn't imagine what else I'll be able to do in my room when you pushed your way in here." 
"Don't be unreasonable." He said wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you up into him once again.
"You know, for someone whose such a stickler for our no public dating rule, you sure have been risky today. Pushing me into that closet, following me into my private room." Your words were angry, but they were softened by the feeling of him against you. 
"I told you, if they were good at their jobs they'd have realised how I feel about you by now." 
"Sometimes people need words, Spencer to make things very clear," his head fell to your neck then, inhaling your scent before pressing his lips lightly against your skin. 
"What people would that be? You? Detective Dreamy?" He pressed another kiss to your skin, distracting you momentarily. Your next words came out in a stutter, and you almost cursed how weak you were being now. 
"That's not fair and you know it." 
"Let's test that theory, shall we?" He bit down on your neck then, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his centre as he began rubbing up against your core, head not lifting from the spot on your neck he'd evidently taken a liking to. 
"Spencer, fuck.." Your moans were breathy, held back by your anger and the knowledge that you were surrounded on both sides by FBI agents trying to get some sleep. 
"So pretty for me, just a little longer, I swear." You had no clue what he was talking about, and you weren't sure you cared, letting him suck and kiss and lick in anyway he wanted, just as long as he didn't stop. You could feel his dick in his pants, could feel it poking up against you as his hips shifted up and down, trying to give the both of you some release. 
He pulled away sharply after a few minutes, grinning boastfully at the blooming mark on your neck. 
"There," he said, wiping his lips carefully, setting you back down. "Is that enough of a public announcement for you?" You clapped a hand over your neck and ran to the bathroom to check your suspicions. 
Sure enough, there was a ferocious red mark that you were sure would swiftly discolour to purple. 
"Get out. Now, Spencer." He didn't stick around for long after that, evidently just as angry as you, but wearing that stupid smug look on his face still. He left you alone in your room and you wanted to scream and cry and make him come back and finish. 
You climbed into bed and let sleep take you. 
The next morning, you searched long and hard for an item of clothing that would cover his territorial marking. But your go bag had limited items in it, a fact that he'd known and exploited, placing the mark just high enough to poke over all the tops you out on. 
If he was going to play petty, you would, too. Pulling out your lowest cut top, you wrapped your hair up into a bun and decided to forego makeup entirely. He wanted the world to see what he'd done, and you were going to let them. 
Just as you'd suspected, Spencer's plan didn't work as he'd hoped. Instead of the team settling quietly and connecting the dots between the two of you quietly, they were almost more curious about what had happened. 
"Wooo, mama, getting up too close and personal with the locals are we? Good for you." Morgan had cheered at you S soon as you'd walked into the precinct that morning. 
You had similar, careful questions from JJ and Hotchner as well, and Emily had slapped you on the back and laughed maniacally as she asked you if you'd had a good lay. The best part was Spencer got to watch all of it happen, he got to watch himself get proved wrong right in front of his eyes and his stupid ego wouldn't let him say a word either way. 
You gave him a wink as you sat next to him, ready to continue reading up on files that'd help you nail the criminal. You had a suspect, now you just needed irrefutable evidence and possibly a confession to be able to return home. 
Your local admirer had followed you into the room, however, and you weren't expecting to have such a direct confrontation with the man who'd until this point had been nothing but polite. 
"You know, if you weren't interested, you could've said so in a less slutty way. Now you're parading around this precinct like a cheap whore. Not a good look." He said it so nonchalantly, you didn't even realise he was talking to you at first, only really tuning in when Spencer stiffened up beside you. 
"Excuse me?" You blinked at him again, wondering if you'd truly misheard him. 
"You heard what I said, you look like a who-" 
"Finish your sentence and I promise you, I'll have your badge, gun and pension by the end of the day." Spencer growled the words from your side, forcing the man to meet his eyes. 
"Come on, you're a smart man, Doctor Reid, surely you know what a little slut she's being, trying to play hard to get." You have to grab Spencer by the arm to stop him from reaching over the table and hitting the man. He responds by pulling you into his chest, effectively lifting you from your chair into his lap. 
"My girlfriend is not a whore just because she doesn't want your tiny dick. I'd say that actually makes her quite sensible." Your heart thumps at the confrontation, but choking on the tense atmosphere in the room, you're unable to say anything until Emily bursts into the room, breaking whatever spell had trapped you there in that pissing match. 
"Y/N– oh. We, uh, we need you in interrogation." Spencer grabbed your hips and stood you up, but he didn't let his hands leave you as he held his angry gaze with the detective. Spinning you around he bought your lips down to his, smothering you for a good minute before releasing you to Emily. You stumbled slightly, but made your way over, silently reeling at your boyfriends actions.
It was possessive, and shitty, and territorial, and so goddammit funking arousing. The growl in his voice had sent a spark through you that made you want to press your legs together until it stopped. So when the time comes for you to clock off that night, suspect safely behind bars, you practically skip all the way to your motel room. 
Once again, you found yourself with an alien object in the door, blocking you from closing it completely. This time, it was Spencer's satchel. 
"You trying to shut me out again?" He asks, a small smile grazing his lips.
"That depends, are you going to make me mount you in the office again tomorrow?"
"I was thinking the jet, actually. Join the club, you know?" He dropped his bags by the door and pulled you in for a kiss, letting you moan softly against his skin.
"I'm sorry," he said, pulling away and walking you back to the bed until it hit the backs of your legs and you let them buckle beneath you. "He wouldn't have talked to you like that if I hadn't marker you up like that." 
His words were an apology, but the fire in his eyes said he didn't really regret a thing. In fact, you were sure that'd he'd do it all again in an instant, but this time he wouldn't stop short on the violence.
"No, you're not." 
"No, I'm not. He shouldn't have talked to you, but I did enjoy watching him realise whose good little whore you are." You gasp at the words as he pushes you down fully on the bed, lips meeting yours again in a furious clash. 
"Fuck, Spencer," You gasped, as he ripped apart the tights you were wearing, desperate for access to your body. 
"I enjoyed it so much, I think I'm going to do it again. That's what you want, right baby?" He kissed his way down your neck while spreading your neck. It was more gentle than the previous night, more tender, but you knew you'd be waking up just as sore, so what did that matter now. 
Nails digging into your skin as he pushed the tights away from your core, you gasped at the contact, opening your chest and neck up further for him as you reacted to the sensations plaguing your body. 
You moved your hands up to unbutton his shirt, certain that anything he was going to do  you were going to repay tenfold. Undressing became a war between the two of you as you rolled around, mouths still connected, desperate to see each other completely undone first. 
Spencer had the advantage of not caring about how much of a wreck your clothes were, and in almost an instant, you were bare to him.
He kissed up and down your neck, over your breasts and down your stomach, leaving a trail of happy red marks to match his previous artwork. Installing each one took time, but you willingly gave him the freedom to bite, suck and sooth your skin, knowing you'd be on display for him for the rest of your life. He was still trapped inside his boxers, cock sufficiently hard and distracting against your core. When he finally pulled away to admire his work, you took the opportunity to push up, rolling the two of you over so you could grind into his large member as you gave reciprocated his kisses. 
He stoked a soothing hand down your back as you writhed on top of him, leaving a trail of small love bites from collar bone to collar bone, pressing a few higher just so you knew they'd be seen in the morning.
"That's it baby, you belong to me. Let's show everyone." When he decided you'd done enough, he flipped your position again, finally letting his cock free and shoving it into you with little warning, leaving you crying out his name as you finally received what you'd been begging for.
"Yes, Spencer, right there, right fucking there." Your voice was loud, desperate and raspy, like you wanted to hear what a desperate slut you were. He reciprocated in kind, playing into the pleasure of the moment.
"Oh you like that? You like my cock inside of you? Tell me who that pussy belongs to." 
"Spencer! It belongs to you, it belongs to Spencer." His fingers fell to his clit as he pulled his dick out of you for a second. Flipping you over onto all fours, he thrust in again, picking up a rougher pace as you listened to the creak of the bed, the wet slap of his balls against your ass. 
"That's right, my little slut, Y/N. My little slutty girlfriend." His arms wrapped around your torso as he began thrusting like a dog in heat, using your warm wet holes to get off, as a place to dump his load. 
"Gonna fill your fucking pushy so everyone knows who you belong to. Gonna knock you up and keep you filled so you remember, too." He pulled your head up by your hair as he said the words, and in an instant you were Cummings on his cock, screaming his name as he somehow found the energy to increase his speed.
The hand in your hair was the only thing keeping you from collapsing into the bed, your face covered in the tangle of hair and the drool dropping from your open mouth. 
"Did you hear me, Y/N? I'm gonna breed you. You want that?" You loudly moaned another barely coherent 'yes' and then you were away in the clouds, letting your eyes roll back in your head as the first rope of cum shot into you. 
He kept his hips flush with yours as he released into you, loving the feeling of your walls milking him for all he's got. He didn't pull out until he was certain that not a drop would fall out. 
He make a start to move towards the bathroom when the room phone rang, practically jumping off it's receiver. Picking yp the phone, Spencer greeted the reception clerk, knowing you were still such a panting mess, you'd never be able to carry out such a mundane conversation.
But mundane it was not as you watched your boyfriend flush in front of your eyes. 
"We got a noise complaint." He told you shyly, and you greeted him with a fit of giggles, breaking into crying laughter after about 10 seconds of looking at his bewildered face. 
"Where from?" 
"Room 127. It's the one on this side." He said gesturing to the left. That only set you off into more laughter, frustrating him ever so slightly. 
"What? What's so funny?"
"Spencer, that's Morgan's room. I guess if he didn't know from his brilliant profiling skills before he will now."
811 notes · View notes
partycatty · 11 days
Note
i’m cranking these out like it’s a full time job
can we get some fluff w johnny where we steal his shirt and he just finds it’s the cutest thing how we practically drown in it
love youuu 💙💙
hehe i wuv him sm
johnny cage > rain
notes: i may not be a skinny queen but swimming in one of his shirts would actually cure me of all ailments forever,.,.., WHY ISNT HE REAL!!!!!!!!! @spacepl4ant
[ masterlist ]
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• you and johnny had grown attached since meeting at wu shi academy. sure, you knew about his existence because he's a celebrity, but you had gotten to know johnny as a person as well as his screen persona... not that there was much of a difference.
• regardless, tuesdays were "train til you drop" days, oftentimes fighting or practicing routines for literal hours until you couldn't feel your limbs. everyone dreaded it but knew deep down it was necessary. this particular tuesday just so happened to be raining like crazy.
• you and the boys sparred and swung attacks at each other until the sun set, everyone drenched in sweat and rainwater. you all sat underneath a dense tree. kung lao shook the water from his hair, raiden was wringing out his shirt, kenshi didn't seem to mind too much and johnny was... well, using the rainwater as some kind of strange gel as he slicked his hair back.
• "talk about training your ass off," he groans, stretching his arms. "i can't feel a single part of me." you jab his side, making him whine and swat at you.
• "you complain too much," you wring your hair out onto the grass. "that being said, i'm cold and hungry and tired and i wanna go back to the dorms so i can change."
• "i like your thinking," johnny waves off the group and the two of you skip down the gravel path to the students' sleeping quarters, where your separated but loosely divided rooms held what little items you were allowed to bring with you. it was a common practice to walk around campus together, sometimes even arm in arm as you playfully waltzed down the paths. the other boys gave you a lot of trouble for it, whining about the married couple you pretend to be. neither of you stood up to defend yourselves. if anything, johnny found it a nice idea.
• in truth, you drove him wild. he just split from his ex-wife, someone that wanted to place roots down and slow down in life. but you, you were spontaneous, fun loving, and an absolute firecracker. you set his heart going, and he couldn't help but harbor a little crush on you. he couldn't tell you that, not now anyway, with the tournament coming up he knew better than to put an extra weight on you.
• "earth to superstar—" you groan, waving your hand in his face and shaking him of his thoughts. he hadn't even noticed the two of you were already at your sleeping place, and how you're now half dressed in your undershirt and shorts. "just checked my stuff. i don't have anything clean or decent. guess i'll just be soggy for dinner."
• johnny can't seem to focus when you're in a damp tank top. "bummer."
• you frown. "this is when you offer one of yours."
• his eyes are distant. "my what?"
• "jesus, cage, what's gotten into you?" you playfully punch at his chest, which does little to affect his stance, and slide the door open to his own bed arrangement. bending over and shuffling through his obnoxiously nice luggage bags, you find one of his dress shirts. it's a fiery red with small flame patterns.
• "i didn't say you could go through my stuff," he warns you in a teasing tone, head hovering over your shoulder. "you might find something you won't like in there."
• "please," you puff as you flick the shirt of its wrinkles. "i've seen a few rose toys in my day." he chuckled, turning away for a moment.
• he gives you the decency to change by staring into the corner, shamefully dreaming of what you may look like without anything on. he shakes the thought violently as you let out a sigh of contention with the shirt.
• "i get that you're a big guy, but lord," you mutter, tugging and shifting the shirt on your body. "you're bigger than i thought."
• "that's what sh—" johnny turns around with a smirk that quickly drops to the floor. you were wiggling about trying to make the shirt look like your own, but johnny was just so pleased with how it sat on you as it was. his shoulders were broader, leaving the shirt to swim around your own and expose a good deal of your collarbone. his waist was small, giving you some grace by hugging your hips almost as if it was your own top. in that split moment, johnny ponders if the "you're so hot i got a nosebleed" trope was real, wiping the bottom of his nose.
• "suits you," he pulls himself together abruptly with his award-winning grin, patting your shoulder and careful to avoid making contact with your skin, as badly as he wanted to feel your warmth. "after all this, come by my place and i'll get your own wardrobe after my style, how's that?"
• you scoff with your hands on your hips, shifting your weight to one leg. johnny fights the physical stutter at your chest creeping out of the top. "mister playboy here giving out charities to us poor folk. you don't have to do that, really."
• his voice is deadly serious. "i want to."
• "you're an odd one," you point a finger, sitting onto his bed with crossed legs. you fall silent observing his thousand yard stare, how glassy his gaze seems to be when it falls on you. "why do you look at me like that?"
• "like what?" his mouth is dry, eyes fixated on yours.
• "like you wanna kiss me all the damn time," your answer is teasing, not entirely serious but you don't miss the twitch in his lip at your statement.
• "and if i do?" he's testing the waters, something about you in his clothes is making him more bold than he swore to be.
• his answer makes your heart flutter, not expecting a direct comment like that. it changed the air of the room, and you suddenly feel a little more suffocated and insecure under his analytical stare. "why don't you?"
• "because i'm worried i'll want more. you look great in my clothes, by the way."
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bluecollarmcandtf · 4 months
Text
Am I Acting Weird?
Part II
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I've been jogging on this treadmill for over an hour now. Cardio sucks, and I hate this old unventilated gym! When I joined the football team, I did it for the parties and cheerleaders! I just wanted to drink with the cool guys and get laid. I still do, but I haven't had a drop of alcohol in weeks. I can't even remember the last girl I hooked up with!
I used to think it was weird that I was suddenly working out all the time. It was like my entire personality had changed overnight.
I know it's not weird now. Max, my younger brother, told me so. I have to keep working out until I become the quarterback of the football team. Then I have to bulk up and train even more, so I can become a professional footballer. That's my new goal in life, and I can't wait for my little bro to be able to brag about being related to a pro athlete.
Sure, I never really wanted to play football professionally. If it were up to me, I'd be out drinking with my buds, but it's not up to me.
That's not weird right?
I shake my head and slow my aching legs. Droplets of sweat run down my face as I work to control my breathing. My whole body is sore from the conditioning. It doesn't help that this is my third workout of the day. Between my morning weight session, afternoon field practice, and this, I am totally whipped.
I stagger over to grab my workout gear. My night isn't over. I still have to bulk my stomach up for tomorrow.
With a frustrated sigh, I stomp out of the gym and march directly into the diner next door. I nod to the greasy cook behind the counter. I've become a regular here, so he knows me pretty well.
"The usual?" he grunts with a toothy grin.
I nod and sink into a booth.
Max, my little brother, got tired of me eating at the house. Apparently, it took our father too long to cook my bulking meals. Max has me eat here after my workouts, and I completely agree. Max shouldn't have to share our dad with me. He deserved to have someone at home cooking whenever he wanted to eat.
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"Four burgers, fries, and a soda," the cook snickers as he slaps the tray in front of me, "A growing boy needs extra protein."
I grimace and turn away from the chef. His breath alone is enough to make me lose my appetite, but I take a big bite and swallow. I won't gain mass if I'm not consuming mass, and I obviously need to get bigger.
I've broken out into a second sweat by the time I'm done. Forcing myself to up, I have to adjust to my bloated waist. You'd think I'd get used to a packed stomach, but I always feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night.
I let out a belch and carry the dirty dishes to the back. It always feels weird strolling into an employees-only area like this, but it's part of how I get my meals for free. You see, the cook let's is nice as long as I take care of two things.
The dishes are the first thing.
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"Leave the dishes," I hear his husky voice behind me, "I never wash 'em anyways."
I drop the dishes and turn the sink off, holding my gut as it growls in pain. My belly might ache, but I've got one more thing to do.
The cook watches me expectantly. He licks his chapped lips, and grabs at the bulge under his apron, between his two trunks of legs. He's already fishing the thing out. I know what he wants, so I drop to the floor. This has become just another part of my daily routine.
It's how I thank the chef.
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I don't know how this became a habit, because I absolutely do not enjoy it! The man is filthy, and a man! I'm not gay! I like women, but I have to eat a lot to bulk up and Max liked the idea of me eating for free. It's not weird!
I let him manhandle me a bit, gripping my head and pulling my hair. The cook gets off faster if he roughs me up a little. He usually only lasts a few minutes, but it's the longest few minutes of the day.
It's not sex. It's just a transaction!
"Oh, yeah!" he growls with his eyes squeezed shut, "Yeah, boy! Fuck!"
I whip my head off his hairy crotch and jump to my feet. I spit into a napkin and wipe my mouth quickly. I know from experience that I won't be able to get the taste of sweat and meat out of my mouth until I brush my teeth thoroughly at home.
My part is finally done here, so I just want to leave!
"Can't wait to see you tomorrow morning, jocky boy!" he laughs, but I've already stormed out, marching down the street to my house. I'm trying not to think about how I'll be seeing him in a few hours for breakfast.
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"Hey dad," I mumble, stepping inside.
"Boy," he answers dismissively, not even looking up from his work. As usual, he's wearing his home uniform: a suit and white gloves. I have a similar outfit for when I'm hanging around the house, but dad gets a lot more use out of his now that I'm constantly bulking up. Max is really the only one who seems to dress casually around here anymore.
I guess that makes him the weird one.
"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to start up a conversation.
"What's it look like, boy?" he answers gruffly, "I'm cleaning up after Max and his guests. Now, either get your uniform on and help or get out of my way."
His attitude makes me cringe a bit. Dad and I used to be really tight. We used to bond over sports and craft beer, but he doesn't really care about anything besides Max anymore.
I don't think he's gone to any of my games for the last few months. He's always cooking or cleaning for Max. I wish I understood. We used to tease Max all the time together, but now he gets angry anytime I try and bond with him. Like, it's totally normal and right for Max to be his new favorite, but I wish we could still chat every now and then.
"Sorry," I mutter.
My father ignores me and heads off to the kitchen in a rush. He looks erratic, and I can tell he's just as exhausted as I am. He's made it a habit of working extra hours at the office everyday. It's so he can bring home the biggest paycheck he can earn every week, but I know is affecting his sleep.
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"Where is Max?" I ask.
My dad frowns, tersely responding, "Max took his guests to a movie in my car. The house needs to be clean and snacks need to be ready for when Max gets back."
"Oh," I sigh, "Are his friends staying over again? I'd stay up with you and help serve them, but Max said I should be getting nine hours of sleep every night."
"Go to bed, boy. I'll handle it," he states firmly, putting the final touches on the silver platter.
With that, my father picks up the tray of assorted snacks and walks them out into the living room. There he takes his place by the door and stands in his usual position. It's where he normally waits to welcome Max home everyday. Father and I know that someone like Max shouldn't have to put their own coat away or take off their own shoes.
"Alright, dad, see you tomorrow."
He doesn't answer. He's already standing still as a statue and probably won't move until Max gets back. Hopefully, my little brother won't keep him up too late.
Sleep won't be hard for me to find. I can barely keep my eyes open, and I pass out as soon as I fall on my bed. The rest of the night is a deep and dreamless void, while my stomach processes all the food I ate.
When I wake up, I find dad like this...
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"Dad? Dad!" I give his shoulder a nudge.
He jumps to life, jerking his eyes around the trashed living room.
"Did you fall asleep standing up?"
"Maybe," he answers with shock, "Max had me holding everyone's coats while they enjoyed some beer. They must have moved to the bed while I drifted off."
"Aren't they a little young for beer?"
"Max and his guests are welcome to my alcohol whenever they want it!" he snaps back at me.
"Geez, ok."
"You have a workout you need to get to, boy," he barks, "And I'm going to have to hurry if I'm going to clean up this mess before work."
I stare at my father as he scrambles to clean up the living room once again. He looks even more exhausted and disheveled than last night. Hopefully, he would be able to clean everything up with enough time to shower and shave. I know that all of the household stuff is his responsibility, but sometimes it seems like too much.
With a shrug, I turn and step out of the door. My day is going to be the same miserable routine as the last. I'm not looking forward to any of it, but that's not weird. Like Max said, I'll just keep my head down, and power through.
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marleyybluu · 1 year
Text
Just Sit On It
Spooky x f!reader
Warnings: 18+. bit of fluff and flirting, bit of cockwarming, very much self-insert (inspired by yesterdays events), no use of y/n
Word count: 980
A/N: I had to give this to my favourite boy🤷🏾‍♀️
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(Not my gif.)
"You want me to just sit on it?" You ask with fake annoyance in your voice and a quirk in your brow. Spooky chuckled and nodded, a little glimmer in his eye as he looked at you. You two had just finished... whatever round of sex that was, you'd lost count after a while. Both of you high as fuck and missing each other after months of no physical contact, chuck it up to being adults with busy schedules. Sucked.
You were done, out of it and tired— growing a bit sore from how he handled you, not like you'd complain anyway you liked it. You thought he was done too, when you attempted to bait him into one last round he'd respectfully hit you with, "Nah I'm tired for real."
You shrugged and put your shirt back on, chilling in the comfortable silence aside from your music softly playing in the background. You hated a quiet room, especially during sex. But it only took a few minutes for his shirt to come back off claiming to be hot... well it was hot, summer was approaching a lot quicker than it usually did and it was the type of heat to make you angry and irritated with any and everything.
As he lay on his stomach you smiled gazing at his back, how smooth and muscular it was, clean and free of tattoos, unlike the rest of his body. He felt your eyes and asked what was up. You told him you wanted to sit on his back and he let you, you drew faint art on his beautiful skin, and ran your finger down his deep spine. Oof, you loved a deep spine, something about the depth of it was so sexy.
Soon he mentioned he wanted to take off his pants. Again, he was "hot." So you got off and he took off more than just his pants, he nodded over for you to come back and you say there. "I thought you said you were good?"
"I am."
"So why would I just sit on it if you're good?" You challenged with a smirk on your face. Spooky wasn't about to have this back and forth, actions were louder so he sat up and reached over for you, cupping your meaty thigh in his large hand and pulling you on top of him. You gasped feeling him against your sore and yet aching clit.
"Just sit." He shrugged. "And this is comfortable for you?"
He nodded reaching for your hands, interlocking your fingers with his. God, he was just so fucking cute sometimes. You looked down at him as he looked up at you, nothing was said and that's what you liked about your dynamic, you two could just sit like this. Naked or half naked talking about whatever was on your mind or not talking at all.
Adorn by Miguel had come on and you began to hum and absentmindedly move around, for a brief moment forgetting you were both naked on your lower halves. Spooky smiled it was always nice to see you comfortable around him considering when you first met you were so shy you wouldn't even look at him.
He let go of your hands and rested his warm palms on your hips. "Come here."
You beamed and with no hesitation leaned over to meet his lips. Your hands rested on either side of his neck, your lips moving in sync— you could kiss that man all day if it was possible. You felt the bottom of your shirt hike up and pool over your lower back, his hands on your bare ass once again. His favourite part to grab.
One last peck and you pulled back. Spooky noticed the look on your face, a look he was too familiar with— when you wanted to say something but you were too chickenshit to say it, still a bit reserved with your thoughts even though it was clear you could be open and honest with him. "Say it. I could see it in your face." 
You sighed all this temptation was getting to you. "You wanna put it in?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded, silently thanking God that he was a mind reader at times. You leaned forward reaching between your bodies you gently wrapped your hand around his girth and slowly sunk down on him, he always stretched you out so nicely. 
And that was it, you just sat on it and it was nice (?) and warm... really warm and slick. You actually did not want to move but he did, pushing his hips up into yours, you placed your hand on his chest saying, "Wait, don't move." 
He stopped his actions and resumed holding hands with you. "You're so pretty." He complimented, you blushed looking to the side so he wouldn't notice how embarrassing it was that you couldn't take compliments, especially from him. Your slight distraction was cut short when you felt him move, you giggled turning to him. "Stop..." 
He did it again. "Stop what?" 
"Spooky... I can feel it- ouu, stop." 
He rested his hands under his head and let out a hearty laugh at how flustered you were until he was now feeling something, with your hands planted on his chest you looked down at him with a knowing look. He let out a shaky moan when you did it again. "You stop." 
"Stop what?" 
"Baby, shit, I can feel you tightening around me." You were easily flexing your walls around him in retaliation. He pushed his hips up into you causing you to moan and fall forward, he did it again, carefully thrusting in and out of you-- your pretty love faces like artwork, his favourite thing to watch. You sucked your teeth in realization. 
"Did you just bait me into another round?" 
"Always." 
Slick motherfucker.
Y’all… oof I had to. I’m still reminiscing. I miss my man😭
If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic
Comments and reblogs are appreciated.
Peace and love🤞🏾
🏷️ : @skyesthebomb @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit
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Shovel Talk(s) Final Part
Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four
Steve starts with Dustin. Not for any particular reason. Dustin is just the first person he ends up seeing after an entire weekend spent at Eddie's house. They'd redone their date in Indy on Saturday, getting back into Hawkins late, so Steve stayed the night. He had a morning shift at Family Video but it was Robin's day off so he didn't see her.
Dustin called at 11:00am on Monday to ask for Steve's assistance with his bike's flat tire. He needs a ride to Melvald's for a new tire tube and pump, and since Steve's shift doesn't start until 2:00pm he agrees.
Steve picks him up and listens to him ramble about his weekend and how he the tube got a hole in it. He stays in the car while Dustin runs inside to make his purchases, and then they're back at Dustin's house. Dustin knows how to change out the tube on his bike; he's been raised by a single mother for longer than Steve's known him so he's pretty self-sufficient, but Steve still offers to do it and Dustin lets him.
It's little moments like these that really let Steve feel like Dustin's brother. Which is what makes it easier for Steve to say, as he is peeling the tube from inside the tire out, "hey, do you remember a week or so ago, when you said we were happy for Eddie and me?"
"Yeah," Dustin says as he's ripping open the package the new tube is in.
"You also told me to not hurt him. I- why'd you say that?" Steve halts his progress on peeling the tube out to look up at Dustin.
He watches as Dustin turns sheepish, "I. Well, mostly I said it so that when I talk to Eddie, I might feel less bad about threatening him."
"What? Why did you threaten him?"
Dustin finishes freeing the new tube from its prison before finally looking back at Steve, "I haven't yet. Mike was talking about how Nancy gave you a shovel talk a while ago, as Eddie's 'best friend'," he makes air quotes around the words, "and I'm your best friend, so I have to give Eddie one. But Eddie's also my friend, so I had to say something to you, too."
"That's so-" Steve cuts off, because he was going to say that's so childish but Dustin should be allowed to be childish just a little longer. Part of his childhood was stolen by monsters and Steve can give him a little bit back, "that's a nice thought but please don't shovel talk Eddie. Besides, Erica beat you to it."
"Shit!"
"Language."
"Well, since Erica did it there's really no point in me doing it. She's terrifying when she wants to be."
Steve laughs because Erica can be terrifying. "Give me the tube, or do you want to finish this?"
"No, continue," Dustin thrusts the tube at Steve, who takes it with a grin and gets back to work.
Robin and he are closing on a Wednesday night, so it's been slow all day, and while Steve wants to talk to Robin, he doesn't want to be interrupted. So, they go about their shift like normal and it's only once he's locked the door and flipped the open sign to closed that he seeks out Robin in the back room, where she's counting down the till.
"Can you pause after that? I need to talk," Steve says and feels his stomach churn. He's never.... he and Robin have never had a fight, never really had any issues that required a talk. Not about anything between them anyway. Robin's always just understood him, in the same way he's understood Robin. They've never been the source of each other's pains until now.
"Yeah, of course," Robin finished the coins, marking down the amounts on a piece of paper before shifting to give Steve her full attention. "Are you ready to talk about it?"
"It?"
"Whatever's hurting you," she says. "I don't know what it is, but I knew you'd come to me when you were ready."
"It's been heard to try and talk about," Steve confesses, "because it's never. It was never you that I've been- I still don't know what to say but I know I don't want to be..." he trails off, waving his hands as he grapples for the words he wants.
"Oh," Robin whispers, standing from the desk to approach. "I hurt you. Tell me what I did, so I can properly apologize."
"When you told me to be careful with Eddie," Steve says, "after I told you about our first date. I don't understand why you'd say that me."
Robin looks pained and swallows before she says, "I'm so sorry, Steve. I shouldn't have said that. And I don't- I don't even have a good reason why I did. I know you'd never hurt Eddie. I know you and what I said wasn't even about you. Not the real you, anyway."
"So, why'd you say it, then?"
Robin frowns and looks away from him, shuffling her feet before she says to a point at the wall, "I was friends, or friendly, with a lot of the girls you were with in high school. A lot of one and done dates that I had to hear about, while they cried in the bathroom or on their bedroom floors, wondering what they'd done wrong, why you didn't stay or-" Steve winces as the reminder of who he'd been in high school comes easily out of Robin, but not for the usual reason he winces. It's not because Robin's reminding him he used to be a douche; she's reminding him of all the people he hurt and never cared that he'd done it. He never apologized, and now it's far too late even if all those girls deserve to hear it.
Robin is still speaking, "or whatever. But that doesn't matter now. You aren't that guy anymore; haven't been the entire time I've actually known you and it wasn't fair for me to say what I said. I just- you took Eddie out, and the part of me that spent years of high school consoling friends who felt used by you just spoke. I-I need to work on filtering the words that come out of my mouth, because if I'd waited like, four more seconds to process your words and settle in the fact you went on a date we both thought you'd never be brave enough to ask for, then I never would have said it. I'm so sorry, Steve. I know you and I should have known better."
Steve swallows thickly, because it hurt to hear but he also knows she's sorry and that's enough. He steps forward and sweeps her into a hug, crushing her against him. She squeezes back just as hard.
Steve has never felt really hurt about Wayne's shovel talk. It was the first, and the only one he'd say he deserved. Not because Steve deserved to have a shovel talk given to him, but because Wayne should get to have the honor of giving one. Eddie's never had a boyfriend before, and Wayne had spent so long worried about how this town would treat Eddie if they knew he was gay.
So, when Steve sees Wayne again, he just smiles at the man, and gets a genuine smile back. He and Wayne are ok.
He and Jeff apologize to each other next time they cross paths on a Hellfire night. Steve apologizes for being snappy and rude. Jeff apologizes for automatically assuming the worst of Steve. They agree to a truce and a start over.
Steve's convinced he can win over Eddie's friends eventually.
Steve can't talk to Nancy. There's too much left unsaid between them for him to feel comfortable with telling her she hurt him. But it's okay. He and Nancy aren't close friends, and she's leaving for Boston in a few weeks for college. He's sure that the distance, and not seeing her weekly for Lunch Date Day, will help.
So, he's a bit surprised to answer the knocking on his front door to see Nancy. It's an exact recreation of the day she shovel talked him and immediately Steve tenses.
"Uh, hi," he says.
Nancy takes a deep breath and says, "I'm sorry. I thought I was being funny when I gave you that shovel talk, but I- someone made it clear to me that we aren't friends enough to be able to make jokes like that. That's my fault, too. For everything I've done and never apologized for. So, I want to say that I'm sorry."
Steve's a little stumped, a bit perplexed even, so he speaks on autopilot, "It's fine, Nance. We're good."
Nancy squares her jaw and narrows her eyes and says, "no."
"No?"
"No. Don't forgive me. Not yet. Make me earn it."
Steve don't respond right away. He wants to just forgive Nancy, but when he thinks about it, he just wants to do that so Nancy will quit looking so defensive. He's not sure he does forgive her. "You're right. I- we'll work on that, then. Being friends one day."
"Good. Good," Nancy nods. "I'll see you are Lunch Date day, yeah? Or... or would you like me to stop coming?"
He shakes his head. "No, please keep coming. There's, what, three more before you're off to college? We can work towards friends in that time, yeah?"
"Yeah," Nancy gives him a small smile, "see you then, Steve."
"See you," Steve replies and shuts the door as she heads down the walkway back towards her car.
He wants to know if Eddie or Robin gave her the dressing down that brought her here to say sorry.
(It wasn't Robin or Eddie. It was Mike, learning what Nancy had done and telling her it wasn't her place to do that.)
There is one final shovel talk for the remainder of their relationship.
It's the final day in Steve's room at his parents house. He's moving in with Eddie and Wayne, at least until the kid's all graduate. Then he and Eddie might go off somewhere on their own.
He's finished packing up his things from the bathroom, and looks up in the mirror. He sees himself, and almost doesn't recognize the reflection staring back. He looks happy. Actually, really happy.
Eddie appears behind him in the mirror, leaning himself against the doorjam, smiling softly at Steve through the mirror.
"All done, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, babe," Steve says. "Just one more thing."
"Oh?"
Steve slides his eyes away from Eddie in the mirror, back to himself. He lifts a finger and points one accusingly finger at himself and says, "if you fuck this up, Harrington, I'll kick your ass myself."
Eddie's full belly laughter rings loudly in the bathroom and Steve just smiles.
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teyamsatan · 11 months
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ੈ♡˳ ɪ ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛɪᴍᴇ
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Pairing: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader
Synopsis: You and Neteyam's relationship only knows the 3Fs: fighting, fleeing or... loving.
Requested: Yes.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI. aged up!, smut (p in v, oral - f receiving, light choking, praise kink), fluff, kinda toxic relationship but it's fine cause it's neteyam and i don't see red when it comes to him, it's all golden
WC: 2.3k words
A/N: how the hell did this also turn fluffy in the end??? what is wrong w me??? anyway, i had so so much fun with this request, it might quickly become one of my favourite things i've ever written. thank you so much for the sweet anonnie who suggested it, and i hope you enjoy x
I get tired of your no-shows You get tired of my control They keep telling me to let go But I don't really let go when I say so 
"Everybody's going out. Just come out with us. Don't let him ruin another perfectly nice eclipse."
Your best friend was so right, as she always was, as she gave you this speech for what felt like the millionth time in the years you've had an on-again, off-again situationship with the prince of the Omaticaya, the one and only Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan - a man you loved, that you wished you didn't sometimes, most times, especially tonight, as he forgot about your plans... again, in order to train for way longer than was needed or necessary, way longer than anybody else... again.
Look, you loved Neteyam's drive. It was part of what drove you to him to begin with. He was unrelenting and determined, he was powerful and skilled, he was savvy and intelligent, he was beautiful and charming, he loved his family to death and was incredibly loyal and all those things made him just so. damn. hot.
They also made him the reason you wanted to pull your braids out, because those traits were good in moderation, but nothing was ever grey with Neteyam. No, Neteyam was all or nothing always, black or white and nothing else, and that meant that loyalty for his family quickly turned into neglect for you, determination for his practice quickly turned to forgetfulness of you, and his power, beauty, intelligence and charm meant you never got to do anything about it, because, if you ever tried, you ended up overpowered, outsmarted and fucked dumb face down on your mat until you forgot you were ever mad to begin with.
I've tried to fight our energy, but everytime I think I'm free  You get high and call on the regular I get weak and fall like a teenager Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?
"How many times do I have to tell you I'm sorry? I need to do this, tiyawn, I have to be stronger for my family, for my clan... for you. You're being unreasonable."
"I'm being unreasonable?! Are you out of your fucking mind?"
You feel tears pool in your eyes and spill like a broken fountain as you take him in, bloodied gashes and muddy patches, tired eyes and calloused hands and still... the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life. He looked at you exasperatedly, like you're the crazy one, and you hate it. Hate what he's doing to you, hate that he doesn't consider you or think about you, and that his sorries are always stained with unspoken truths, like how he doesn't truly mean it, not when to him, it's all justified, it's all warranted, and shouldn't be questioned.
"Every day and night, I do nothing but wait, Neteyam. Wait for a man who doesn't think twice about the plans he's made, the promises he never keeps, the memories that sour with every absence he gifts to me like a necklace that half-chokes me to death. I'm tired. I can't do this anym-"
A kiss is all it takes to silence you, to stun you, to make you melt in his embrace the way you always do, all the arguments and the ultimatums swallowed under the intensity of the touch of his lips on yours, his tongue meeting your own in a welcome embrace, so intimate and knowing, so fucking frustrating.
"Net-..."
His thumb traces your lips, the mix of your salivas making the glide easy, as his beautiful golden eyes bore into yours with enough force to cower you, to make you hunger and ache for more. That's all you ever wanted when it comes to Neteyam - more. When his finger pushes gently past your lips and into your mouth, you immediately close them around him and lick... and suck, and he moans, his gaze growing darker and needier with each second you're not writhing under him, the way you should be, the way you were meant to be.
"No, tiyawn. I can't let you speak if you insist on saying those insipid, meaningless words again. You won't leave, because you can't leave. Because you're mine. And I'm yours. You own me."
His hand grabs yours and redirects it to his loincloth, tented up under the weight of his hard-on and the slight damp spot under your touch makes you swallow instinctively. You had no thoughts outside of him anymore, outside of the overwhelming desire that took over you whenever he was in your presence, his being inundating your senses and hijacking your mind to be rid of all but him, full of him, only him.
"Look what you do to me. You. Only you. I need you. Always. I know I'm not good enough, I know, but ..."
His hands find their way to your ass, lifting you gently, and you wrap your thighs around him, although there's no need, not when he moves you just a few feet until he's sitting on your mat, laying you gently on it. When he moves his hands, he takes your loincloth with him, and you whine softly at the sudden cool breeze that hits your aching, sopping core.
"...Let me show you how sorry I am."
When he lays down with his head between your thighs, you know he's forgiven already, because whatever he's about to do is always more than enough to make up for all the shit he didn't do, because the stuff he knows how to do is enough to excuse world calamities and mass destruction in your mind.
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Just when I get on a new wave Boy, you look at me and I slip outta my lace They keep calling me a head-case 'Cause I can't make a good case why we can't change
"You're out of your mind, tiyawn."
"Well, if I'm out of my mind, then you made me out of my mind, you skxawng."
"Can we talk about this somewhere more private?"
You have to admit, starting the fight at the communal dinner in front of his parents, the leaders of the clan, and your friends, and everyone you knew, was probably a bit gauche and uncouth, but you think it was just more than anything a perfect testimony of how this man drove you to the brink of insanity in a way no one else could.
"Fine, but I swear to Eywa that if you -"
"A-ah, fuck!"
Propped with your hands on his shoulders, his fingers around your throat, you were bouncing up and down his cock, trying to ignore how you could be caught at any point, how close you were to the communal fire, barely covered by some shrubbery, how fear was fuel for your desire as his tip kept slamming into your cervix so hard you felt it in your ribcage when he rutted upwards into you.
"Quiet, tiyawn. You don't want people to hear us, now do you?"
A glint of mischief flashed across his eyes, smirk to match, as he brought the hand he had gripped on your hips to help him move you on his length forward, circling your clit masterfully and you whimper again, eliciting a small laugh from him.
"Or maybe you like that? 'That turn you on, huh? My dirty girl."
The sound of skin slapping against skin was so strident you'd be surprised if someone wouldn't come just to see if they can catch the end tail of a rousing performance people couldn't help but clap for, but to be honest with yourself, you didn't care. It was known in the village - your mad, intense, mercurial, quixotic relationship with Neteyam. You were both crazy - for each other, and in general, it seemed, because you fought, fled and fucked more often than truly anyone could keep with with.
"Eywa, I love watching you take my cock. You're such a good girl, and you always take me so well, tiyawn. So well."
You said nothing as the rush of all the sensations trying you quickly became overwhelming, as the heady combination of being chocked by a man who knew how to use it to your advantage helped heighten his ministrations on your clit, his wild and intemperate thrusts that stretched you and filled like you craved, like only he could, and you come, whining and sobbing, nails digging painfully in his skin. He follows suit, his own groans unable to be kept hidden, and he releases his hand from around your neck and brings it back to the nape of your neck, willing you softly in his chest, where, although full of cobwebs and a little dusty, would always be your home.
"Shh, that's right. Did so well for me, tiyawn. My perfect girl." A kiss on your temple, soft and intimate, and the constant shower of unbridled praise, that you lived to see come out of his beautiful mouth as he filled you up with his cock, reminded you why you stayed and came back, over and over. Because it was worth it. And he was worth it.
"I'm still fucking mad at you."
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I get drunk, pretend that I'm over it Self-destruct, show up like an idiot Why, oh why does God keep bringing me Back to you?
"We are never getting back together. Like ever." you say in between sips of fermented yovo juice, that always goes to your head way too quickly, that always makes a mess out of your tongue and a slur of your words.
"I want to believe you, friend...I really do, but... you've said that one too many times. You're the girl that cried Palulukan. Nobody's coming to rescue you now, sister."
"N-no..." the hiccup was violent enough to make you throw up in your mouth and you groaned, the headache caused by the startled yelp digging in your temples. “I me-mean it this t-time. It’s o-over.” You were stomping your feet in determination, eager to prove that you would once and for all be rid of the man that was nowhere to be found for the village celebration that he’s known about for months.
“Lo-Lo’ak! Hey Lo’ak!” The sighting of Neteyam’s nicer, more amiable, sociable younger brother was a one for sore eyes, as it proved that it wasn’t family duty keeping your boyfriend… ex-boyfriend… away, it was his own maddening stubbornness and selfishness doing it instead.
“Neteyam’s training… I’m sorry. We told him to come, but he… gets in like a weird trance whenever he’s on the grounds, I swear it’s like something out of an Earth zombie movie.”
You didn’t know what he was talking about and he didn’t elaborate before he took off, leaving you leaning against a tree with only your tiny friend as a barrier between your face and the cold, hard, ground.
“Argh, who cares?! It’s be-better he’s gone, he’s a k-killjoy anyway and i for one a-am happy to be rid of-“
“Neteyam!” Tuk’s screams close to deafen you and the sound was the last push your body needed to lunge itself forward and hurl the contents of your stomach onto the mossy ground that was now more yellow than it had ever been green.
“Oh, mighty and all-powerful Eywa.”
“Hi, Syulen. I got it, thanks.”
“Take her home, Neteyam. And don’t get any funny ideas.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Come, tiyawn.”
You wanted to protest, but the bile in your mouth was bitter and burning, and so you didn’t, not as he picked you up as gently as if you were a precious flower he didn’t want to wilt, not when he pressed a kiss on your temple as his arm found the back of your knees for added support, not as he carried you home silently, outside of the soft-spoken coos of affection and apologies, while you mumbled unattractively in his chest.
“I hate y-you.”
"I know."
"You're the wo-worst."
"I know."
As you reached your tent, you were greeted by soft trills and purrs that sobered you immediately, that made you jump from his arms and onto the ground, where a small pup lay. It was cautious as you approached, but eventually relaxed around you and let you kneel beside it. It has an ugly gash across its back, that looked like it had been tended to. It was a Palulukan pup, and the thought made fevered chills run down your spine.
"Neteyam, wha-"
"I found him coming back from practice. He was hurt and limping, and clinging to his mother's corpse. I took him home and have been helping my grandmother tend to him ever since. That's why I'm late."
“I know you’ve been lonely since your parents died. Well, he seemed lonely too. His parents are gone, and so I thought… you could be his new home. And I could be yours. I’m done running away, tiyawn. From now on, I only want to run towards things. Towards you. I’m yours. You own me. For good, this time. If you still want me.”
You smile a sheepish smile, looking up at him through your lashes while you pet the new priceless addition to your small family. You really were the girl that cried Palulukan.
“If I say no, will you take him away?”
He winced a little, a grimace marring his beautiful features.
“Of course not.”
“If I say yes, can we all be a family?”
The grimace dissolved as quickly as it appeared and a dazzling, gummy smile replaced it, one that dizzied you in its utter and undeniable beauty, one that you couldn’t help replicate, not when kneeled in front of you and took your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, his own face mere inches from yours.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
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taglist: @fanboyluvr @yagirlheree @teyamsbitch
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xzhdjsj · 2 months
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Page 142
Zaros x Reader
Zaros is temporarily unable to lie.
For the sake of this fic, let's pretend alchemy and potions, etc exist in Zaros' world😭 Also, this gets suggestive towards the end (just a teensy bit nsfw), if you're uncomfortable with that you might wanna stop reading at the marked point or not read this at all!
I may write a second part for this, but I'm not sure. Lemme know if you guys want a part 2! I hope you enjoy! <3
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It was a quiet day, unusually so. That's only because ever since Zaros’ arrival to the palace, a peaceful day has not gone by. His mouth is never closed. He always has something to say and not a care for repercussions. It’s annoying, extremely annoying, and it flares both your anxiety and anger.
Yet, somehow the peace and quiet feels almost wrong. Do you perhaps miss him?
You shake the thoughts from your head. Nonsense. Why would you miss him? Though, it is strange you haven't seen him all day, maybe it would be best if you looked for him. Only for the credit of being an observant host of course, nothing else!
-
  
You make your way to his door, slightly nervous to knock, but you do so anyways.
...
No answer. So, you knock again.
...
And again, there was no answer which is very unlike him. He may hate your guts but at the very least he’s polite enough to answer his door.
You scan the area for a quick moment, making sure you're all alone in the hallway, then press your ear to the door. How strange, not a soun-
"Can I help you my Earis?", a voice chime behind you.
You shout and turn to face its owner. A palace maid.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." She bows respectfully, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, yes I'm fine." You sigh and placed a hand to your chest, "You just spooked me. It's alright."
"Apologies your highness. Is there anything I could help with?"
"Uhh no, I was just about to leave."
You swiftly turn to leave, desperate to get away from her. Then you stop at a realisation, maybe she knows where Zaros is.
"Actually," you turn to her, "Have you seen Sarl Zaros today?"
"He was in the garden earlier, my Earis. Though, I have no idea where he is now."
"Right, thank you. That'll be all"
You scurry off, unable to shake the embarrassment you felt. You know she'll keep her mouth shut, after all, if rumours are traced back to her it would cost her quite a lot, but the icky feeling still haunts you mind. What were you even thinking?
-
You find yourself in the garden rather quickly, but there was no sign of his blonde hair or elegant garments. Just greenery and sunshine. That means there's one last place you may be able to find him, the library.
And sure enough, he's there.
You pick up a random book, not bothering to look at the colour or memorise the title, and take a seat across from him.
"Earis, how nice of you to join me." He mutters, barely, as if he didn't want to speak.
"Is it really? Or are you just saying that?"
"It is... nice." He grimaces but swiftly hides it with the books he's reading. Something about potions and remedies, since when is he interested in alchemy?
"Oh uh- I see" you reply awkwardly. One unusual occurrence after the other, he's never outright nice to you, especially when you're alone. He's always giving you an earful of how spoilt and sheltered you are. What suddenly changed?
The silence engulfs you both, he has his head stuck in his book and you, well you're still in shock staring at him.
"Are you going to keep staring?"
"What?" You snap out of your daze.
"You were staring."
"Oh, no I wasn’t! I just zoned out for a moment. Sorry."
A pathetic lie, he knows it too. He doesn't even honour it with a response, or even look up from his books.
God everything is so freaking weird today!
"Are you alright, Zaros?" You blurt out before you can think.
He finds your eyes finally.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing! I just- You don't seem like yourself today, I was just wondering if you're unwell."
He sighs, exasperated and tired.
"If you really must know, I was accidentally served a glass of wine containing an elixir of truth. I'm fine otherwise, I just need to get rid of its effects."
"Ahhh, hence the book. I was curious why you were reading that." The wheels in your head turned. He consumed an elixir of truth, which means he cannot lie. It’s no wonder he admitted your company was welcome earlier.
"Hmmm I didn’t think you were so keen about reproduction either my dear Earis.” He eyes the book laid out in front of you.
Confusion laced your expression as you looked down. The title hits you in the face like a brick. It reads
 “Reproductive Biology: Conception”
“Oh, dear god! No, I- I grabbed the wrong one!” Your face burnt of embarassment as you hurriedly returned the book to its shelf.
“Are you sure you didn’t just come here to find me then?” he chuckles at your dilemma.
You don’t answer, but no answer is still an answer. What an awful day! You turn to leave, having had enough of the awkwardness and embarrassment.
“Come sit with me.” He calls out to you, “It’d be rude of me to let you leave when you came all the way here to find me”
Reluctantly, you walked over to the table and sat with him.
“Did you miss me that much?” he pushed his book aside, casting his full attention onto you.
“Of course not, I just thought it was unusual that I haven’t seen you all day. That’s all.” You inform him, “Were you ignoring me on purpose?”
His expression shifts for a moment, but he catches it quickly.
“Why would I do that?” he dodged your question. “Did you miss me berating you?”
“I should’ve left when I had the chance.” You sigh and rest your forehead against you palm and he laughs.
“You’re the one who came all the way here to find me. It’s only fair that I have my assumptions.”
“Too bad they’re untrue.”
“Are they really?”
“You know what?” You retort, “If you want to ask so many questions, I propose a game.”
“A game? Go on, I’m listening.”
“We take turns asking each other questions and answer them truthfully. Not that you really have a choice anyways and I promise to be truthful as well.”
“You definitely have an unfair advantage, but I’m desperate for some entertainment, so I don’t see why not.” He leans forward, resting his face on his interlocked fingers. “Well then, I’ll go first. Did you come all the way here to find me?”
You sigh, “I did, but you already knew that, so why waste a question?”
“I wanted to hear you say it.” He smiled mischievously.
It started off tame, with harmless questions to tease each other. Pieces of memories from the past and truths to white lies once told, but as it progressed there was more than either of you bargained for.
(things get suggestive from here)
“Do you regret leaving all those years ago?”
“No, I don’t. Had I stayed, I wouldn’t know half the things I do now, and I wouldn’t experience the things I did. Besides, you made it clear you never wanted to see me again, I honoured your word for as long as I could.” His words only made your regret worse. “Do you regret being close to me back then?”
“No. Then, do you hate me for driving you away?”
His expression stiffens, and he just stares at you in shocked silence for a minute. “No, no I’ve never hated you. Do you hate me?”
“I could never bring myself to ever hate you. There’s too many memories attached to your face, fond ones that I cannot risk hating.”
“I see.” He murmured quietly.
“Did you think I hated you?”
“You did send me away and called me a leech. It felt kind of obvious. What about you? Did you think I hate you?
“Yes, and for some reason, it scared me. Did you… Did you ever forgive me for all the things I’ve said to you? They were awful, I know that now, and I'm... I'm sorry.”
“I did. As I said, I never hated you, and what good would it serve me to hate the person I lo- the person I grew up with.” He corrected himself. “Do you regret it? Sending me away.”
“Everyday for the past 8 years. I hoped you’d show up to every formal event we held, but you never did.”
“Wow are you sure you didn’t have some of my wine too?”
“Shut up. Did you think about me when you were gone?”
He tilts his head to the side slightly, “More than you’ll ever know.”
“How? What were you thinking?”
“Hold on now, you’re only allowed one question per turn. So I believe it’s my turn now. Did you think of me while I was gone?”
“Yes, I did.” You confessed quickly, “What were you thinking of when you thought of me?”
“So demanding. But I don’t think you want to know that, my sweet Earis.”
“It’s my turn, and that’s my question. If I did not wish to know, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Fine, but you asked for this. When I thought of you, I often reminisced of our time together in school. Other times, my thoughts of you were quite… inappropriate.”
Your ear perked up like a kitten. “Tell me more.” You demand.
“Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes. Tell me everything.”
He leans back into his chair, “I thought of you when I was with others. That’s why I was never able to keep a partner.”
“Wha-“
“Every time I looked into their eyes I’d think of you, and I knew my adoration was never for them. Every time someone laid below me I’d close my eyes and imagine you instead. The thought of you and what we could’ve been followed me, haunted me, ate away at my very soul. I didn’t want anyone but you, despite my criticism, you are what I craved.” His eyes never left yours, every word, every truth he spoke made your bones feel soft and your stomach tie into an uncomfortable knot.
There should be another word that meant speechless beyond the word speechless, it would perfectly describe how you felt in that moment.
“Zaros I… uhm” Your face is undoubtably red, and you cannot bear to look him in the eyes anymore.
“My turn now, darling.” His body lifted from his seat, and he moved to sit next to you, so close you could smell the scent radiating off of him. “Did you think of me the same way I thought of you?”
You could lie, you could tell him you’ve never thought of him when you were with another and you can tell him you never thought of him when you touched yourself… but he was truthful and you should be too.
“I did” you whisper, barely enough for him to catch, being only a breath’s distance from you.
“Yeah, I thought as much.”
Your information processing is cut short when his lips landed on yours and a warm hand on your cheek. Your eyes widen only to flutter shut. His hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your waist, desperately pulling you closer. You hold onto his arms for support, too engulfed in this feverish kiss to think of anything. He kissed you like a starving man, he kissed you with 8 years’ worth of longing and every second was deliciously eager-filled and greedy. When he finally pulls away you’re gasping for breath. Your fingers are still gripping into his biceps and his, your waist. He tugs you closer, a silent plea for more.
His breath was warm on your face, and your body felt hot. His body felt hot. There was a sense of urgency in the air, and the world around you faded away again when his lips met yours. Your chest is pressed up against him while he pushes your back into the wall behind, desperate attempts to be as close as you can, A thousand curses upon the layers of clothes that separate you.
Time was definitely slowing down, and every touch of his fingers lit fireworks across your skin. It was addicting, he was addicting. Neither of you could get enough, the longing was too much to ignore. His fingers were warm, so warm they melted into your skin. The buildup of passion was ought to come crashing down at some point but before his fingers could slip further past the fabrics on your skin a familiar voice ring out.
“Sarl Zaros? Are you in here?” The Queen gently called out.
Your bodies split apart in seconds. He scrambles to the far end on the bench, and you rush to wipe your lips. You look over at Zaros, and his chest is heaving, same as yours. God you wished you didn’t look. The way he desperately tried to calm himself down did things to your stomach that you’ve never felt before.
You promptly stand and turn to greet your mother who’s approaching.
“Mother, good afternoon.”
“Oh, you’re here too dear?” she smiles at you.
“Yes, I was just uhm chatting with Zaros.” You lie through your teeth. “But I’ll be leaving now, I have other things to attend to.”
You walk past your mother, hurrying for the giant doors of the library.
“My Earis,” a rasped voice calls behind you. “You forgot your book.”
You turn around and Zaros hands you the book he was reading. You didn’t question it. There was no time for questions.
“Ah thank you Zaros” You flush when his hands touch yours.
“I think you’ll find page 142 most interesting, do give it a read.” His eyes were filled with lust, green embers burning holes into you soul.
“Tha-Thank you.”
You ran. You ran all the way back to your room, locking the door and dropping into your bed face first. What the FUCK just happened???
You wish you could scream, instead you try to process everything that’s happened. It started off so innocently, tame questions and light teasing but evolved to so much more. HOW?
You remembered his words before you left the library.
“I think you’ll find page 142 most interesting, do give it a read.”
You pick up the book he handed you, flipping the deckled edge to page 142. Obviously, there was nothing interesting, just a piece of paper that flutters to the floor. You pick it up, unfolding it carefully, to find a message written inside.
“If you wish to continue, meet me in my room at midnight. I’ll be waiting, my sweet sweet Earis.”
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halleyscomet14 · 6 days
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Hey, I'm not sure if your taking requests at the moment but if you are could you write a billie eilish fic, fem reader who struggles with ocd. I know everyone who had this, experiences this completely differently. For myself I'm constantly paranoid about germs and someone breaking into my house. I'm constantly checking if doors and windows are locked and hiding spots in my room where someone could hide just to feel safe, and making sure my room is clean 24/7 which gives me a bit of stability. I wash my hands alot, I hate touching door handles so I always pull my sleeve up to cover my hands. To make myself feel more safe, I tap an abject made from wood 4 times. I know that sounds stupid but in my mind that's the only thing keeping me safe. I just need some billie fluff, she reassures us that we are safe.
Thank you so much ❤️
as long as i’m here, no one can hurt you
relationship: billie eilish x female reader
warnings: panic attack, fluff, comfort, ocd
word count: 1816
summary: as a kid you’ve always dealed with ocd. one night when you come home from date night with billie, something’s seem off.
a/n: i’m not exactly familiar with ocd, but my roommate has it so she helped me write this! i based it off the things mentioned in the request and stuff my roommate went through. part of this story really happened in real life, and her (my rommie’s) boyfriend was there with her. shout out to my love lucija 🫶
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ever since you were a kid, small details bugged you. whether it was someone not washing their hands after they come in the house, or jumping on the bed with their shoes, or even not double checking the lock, there was always something that bothered you. something that you just had to double check. when you were with your friends, it never affected them, really. but when it comes to relationships, where you share a house with them, you had to be extra cautious to fulfill your desires. you had to not double check, but triple check the locks, you had to make sure your partner was clean of germs, you had to make sure everything was in place for you to continue your day care free.
so when you started your relationship with billie, you warned her about your habits, and how sometimes you can be a bit overprotective. it was nothing too serious though! you were just looking after her anyways! billie totally understood, as she went through some mental issues before too. every time there was a reason to panic, billie would soothe you and make you feel okay.
it was day like any other. after days of planning, billie could get a day off to spend it with you. because of this, you guys decided to go to a restaurant, a restaurant that wasn’t too crowded because of billie’s status. it had been a very successful night, you and your girlfriend were having fun and you both were enjoying yourselfs as you eased into the conversation. you guys ate well, paid and got out of the restaurant. chatting towards the car, billie got the door for you before going behind her car to hop in. you were roaming through the glovebox looking for sanitizer, and when you found it you applied it all the way up to your wrist, rubbing it in thoroughly. then you turned towards billie, who was settling in to the car and offered her some, which she took. she knew now that you would have trouble holding her hand before knowing she’s free of germs.
the ride home wasn’t quiet, and you had a nice conversation. both of you were laughing after a night out; yet you were tired just wishing for a night where you could cuddle and fall asleep in each others arms. the car slowed down as you arrived into the driveway. you grabbed your stuff before opening the door and getting out of the black car. billie went beside you and held your hand as you walked towards the door. billie pulled out her key, and while both of you stud there by each others side (billie still trying to unlock the door), you let your head fall to her shoulder. billie pushed opened the door, and before you went in billie got up on her tiptoes leaving you a small peck on your forehead. you were immediately filled with love from her small acts like this, only making you blush. she pulled you in by your hand, and into house. she let go, walking in to take off her shoes before slipping into her soft slippers.
meanwhile, you also got off your shoes as you looked around. that’s not right, one of billie’s coats was on the floor instead of the coat hanger. it was summer, there was no reason to go out with a coat, so she couldn’t have tried it on. also she went out with a crop top. that wouldn’t fit her. you looked around to see if there was anything else. usually, your keys (which had a long string attached to them) were on top of the shoe cabinet, in a small bowl where other misc items where places. yet they seemed to be on the edge of the table and not the bowl. something was out of the ordinary. you looked through the door into the living room, where billie leaned onto the edge of the couch, texted someone. the bookcase wasn’t in order, and random books where placed on the floor in a stack.
something was seriously wrong. nothing was like how you left it. maybe it’s just a coincidence, you thought to yourself. “billie?” you yelled into the living room as you placed your shoes into their corner. “yeah babe?” she responded, looking up from her phone and to the left towards you. “did you check out some books before we left, possibly?” you said, as you placed both of your hands on your waist. billie looked towards the small bookcase, mostly filled with law books. “mhh, nope. why whats up?” she said turning back to you. you stared into the books in despair. “did your mom and dad come over to drop something off today? maybe when we were out?” you inquired. billie didn’t quite pick up on what you were in about. “no. they would have told
me. hey, y/n is everything okay?” she asked, tilting her head to the side a bit. “yeah. just wondering something.” you replied. you got out of the living room and went to the hall. you started walking towards the bathroom.
on the way there, you picked up the plastic bat billie had from an old photoshoot. you had convinced yourself that someone had broke into your house while you were away. you couldn’t comprehend how you could let such a thing, even after making sure everything is locked and closed. you took small steps, bat it hand. with tiny steps and a sharp turn you flicked on the bathroom light, making everything visible, everything but an intruder. you glanced around the room once more before exiting, not forgetting to close the light.
you made your way down the hall to the guest bedroom that was on the right of your study. turning on the light, your eyes searched the room for anything out of the ordinary to find nothing. you checked once more, around the blind spots and such. you held the plastic bat up high as you entered your study, the light was left on which was something you always check before you leave. something was definitely wrong and you had just proven it. the law book on the desk was opened. you entered deep into the room to see which page was on. the page was an old subject, you hadn’t studied since last semester.
still staring at the room you walked backwards. you held your bat up high, ready to hit whatever came you way. you slowly backed out of the room, until… “babe.” hearing the familiar voice, you quickly turned in fright. your acts were cut off as you met billie’s well known ocean blue eyes. you looked around you. putting the bat down, you let it clank against the ground. you make long lasting eye contact with each other. billie stood still watching your acts. she seemed calmed. your eyes flashed between the hall and her.
this felt too much. had you got something wrong. you felt fear. you felt your hands start to shake and your chest started tightening. you started panicking with the thought of putting your girlfriend at risk. you looked around the room in worry. all of this was probably visible. “babe?” billie asked you, her two hands went up to your arms, holding them. you felt her warmth as you hyperventilated. this happened from time to time, billie knew how to treat it. “baby?” she said a bit louder now. her hand went up to your cheek, lightly tapping it to get your attention. “hey… breathe with me y/n” she said, still looking up to you, into your eyes. but you were too busy making messed up scenarios. you finally looked back at billie when you felt her light touch on your arm, the rubbing motion got you out of your mind.
billie started gesturing at you to breathe accordingly. with her hand, she signaled where to inhale and exhale, as she did the exercise with you. you slightly calmed down with each passing moment. only to realize the panic you must’ve put your dear girlfriend in. everything was a bit too overwhelming at that moment. you knew that billie would be scared for you. it was the last thing on your list to make billie upset. you felt a tear run down your face, as billie cupped your cheeks with both hands.
“y/n…” she said, caressing your cheeks. your hands started shaking once more.
you broke down right there in her very arms. tears streamed down your face as you sniffed your nose in between. she held you, making you feel safer with small phrases such as “i’m here with you” or “you’re safe with me” or “nothings out of order”. everything she said made you feel a bit better in recovery from that moment earlier. she drew shapes on your back with her fingertips, the was she knew you like it.
“baby… you know nothing could have happened. we’re safe here. as long as i’m here, no one can hurt you.” she said running her hands through your hair. “it’s such and unlikely thing to happen. you don’t have to freak out. i know it’s hard for you, but just trust me you’ll be fine.” she says. you let your head out of her shoulder. still, you hic in between your sniffs. you stare deep into her eyes as she gives you a warm smile. you once again bury yourself into her shoulder, continuing crying. “y/n it really is okay. all of those things have explanations.” she says, reassuring you once more.
“i’m sorry” you murmur into her shoulder. she pulls you by your head and pulls you into a short kiss. “it’s okay, mama.” she says, smiling at you. she reaches both of her hands on your cheeks to wipe away your tears with her thumbs. “you don’t need to apologize. you did nothing wrong.” she continues. you smile back, cheeks burning as you feel how red it could be right now. you place your forehead on hers, closing your eyes. she pulls you in for a small peck.
later that they while you’re in bed, reading your book, billie comes in the room and leans against the doorframe. “hey babe, wanna try these fruit that finneas and claudia left by earlier? theyre something called starfruit or like carambola or something.” she says holding plastic bag. “i’ve never heard of them but they are amazing. living for them right now.” she continues. “oh they stopped by? why didn’t they come in?” you asked billie. billie turned to face the plastic bag. “oh, they left them while we were out. you know how finneas has a spare key?” she said as moment of realization hit both of you. “oh you’ve gotta be shitting me.” you say as billie starts to laugh.
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AITA for telling my mom I didn't want to travel with her?
So I (21nb) and my mom (37f) went on a trip for a few days to see my brothers (18m) graduation from bootcamp (this is only semi relevant but if u vote yta just bc my brothers in the military I want u to look me in the eyes. Look at me. Are you capable of acknowledging that people who join the military bc they think it's their only option are not morally evil? And are victims? Or are you gonna be a jackass about it?). This entire trip my mother has been INSUFFERABLE. She has doubted everything I've said about. Literally everything. "You need to turn left." "Are you sure?" "We need to take this train to the terminal" "if we get lost and miss our flight I swear to god-" not to mention asking me if i was ABSOLUTELY SURE we did NOT need to get our luggage during our layover once every ten minutes for the entire 3 hour layover. Now to the aita part. As I'm writing this we're waiting for our flight home. When we landed I looked at the like. List thingy and told her which terminal we needed to go to and the entire walk there (which we had two hours to get to btw) she was telling me to walk faster and nagging me about if it was the right terminal and asking how we were supposed to get our ticket at the terminal. At the last one I'll admit I didn't answer to nicely as I was extremely tired of the constant nagging. I said "I don't know I don't run the fucking airport." At that she stopped walking and said that if I was gonna act like that she wasn't taking me on her next trip. I was still sick of her acting like this the whole trip so I went "good. I don't want to anyway" and she got mad because she was expecting me to grovel like she ALWAYS does so she said she would "remember everything I said" and called me abusive (she does that whenever someone says something she doesn't like btw this isn't the first time). I don't feel like I'm the asshole but I'm having second thoughts now that I'm sitting here waiting for my delayed flight
What are these acronyms?
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