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#as always no need to do it if you don’t want to <3 but i’m interested to see everyone’s playlist too 🥰
nereidprinc3ss · 1 day
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do you believe me now? | 3
in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded
part one | part two
18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!
You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 
It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 
You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 
“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”
He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 
“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 
Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 
“Uh… four hours ago.”
“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”
He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 
“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”
You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 
“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”
His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 
“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”
Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 
“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”
Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 
“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 
You kiss his cheek. 
“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”
It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 
“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”
You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.
“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”
The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”
“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”
“You seem exhausted.”
“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.
Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.
“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 
Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 
“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”
Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”
“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”
Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 
“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”
“Um…”
Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 
“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 
His eyebrows raise. 
“I’m sure, honey.”
“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 
“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”
It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 
“Nothing. I just missed you.”
“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”
The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”
A slow smile spreads over your face. 
“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”
You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 
“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”
“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”
“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”
“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”
You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 
“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”
Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 
“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”
It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 
“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”
“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 
“Yeah? Like what?”
And just like that, you’re shy again. 
“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”
“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”
And how could you ever deny him anything? 
As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 
“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”
Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 
Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 
“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”
“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”
A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 
“You okay?”
You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 
“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”
It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 
“Do you want to?”
Woah. 
Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  
You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 
“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”
Show you how? 
Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 
“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 
“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”
You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 
“Got it.”
He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 
“Scoot back a little, angel.”
Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—
Your breath catches. 
Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 
So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 
The size sinks in a quick second later. 
You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?
No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 
“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 
Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”
Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 
“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 
“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  
“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”
It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 
“Okay. What do I do?”
“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”
You look up, alarmed. 
“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”
“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 
Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 
“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 
“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”
Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 
“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 
“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”
“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 
“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”
Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”
You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”
Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 
“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 
“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 
For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 
“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”
“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?
“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”
You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 
“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”
“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 
“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”
“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”
“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 
“Because I like to listen.”
“What if I do, too?”
In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 
“Jesus, fuck.”
You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 
Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 
You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah, baby?”
He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 
His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 
“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”
“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”
Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.
“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”
Wide eyes dart up to his. 
“Really?”
Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 
“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”
“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”
“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 
Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 
“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 
“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 
“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”
Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 
“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”
You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 
“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”
“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 
“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”
“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 
You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.
From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 
“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”
You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 
“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 
Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 
You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”
You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 
“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 
“It’s okay, Spence, I—”
“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”
“Do you care what I think at all?”
Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 
“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”
It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 
“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 
“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”
He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 
“That was really good, baby. You did well.”
You blossom. 
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t lie.”
“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 
I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 
Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.
Fuck. 
He really wants to tell you right now. 
“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”
“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 
It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 
“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”
“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”
You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 
“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”
Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 
“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”
“Oh.”
Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 
“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”
“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”
Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 
“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”
Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 
“What got you all excited?”
“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 
“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”
You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.
“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”
“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”
Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 
“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 
“Stand up.”
You frown. 
“But—”
“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 
You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 
“Why?”
“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 
As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—
But no. 
There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—
“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”
“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 
“Sit.”
“You want me to…”
“Yes,” he says, simply. 
“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”
“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”
Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 
“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 
“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”
Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 
“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 
“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?
“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 
“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”
You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 
“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”
You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 
“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 
“Yeah? Does it?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”
It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 
“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 
“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”
You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 
“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”
You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 
“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”
“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.
“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”
But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.
You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.
“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”
In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.
And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.
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wosoamazing · 3 days
Text
Bad Timing
Warnings: Endometriosis, Passing Out, Vomiting
A/N: IDK how good it is, can’t decide if I like it or not but yeah…. (also I tried to make this as accurate as possible in terms of the medical things but IDK)
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It was your first Lionesses camp, which you were dreading, if you weren't nervous enough your period was due during this camp, and to say it wasn’t easy was a massive understatement, you had just recently been diagnosed with endometriosis, after what felt like years of being told you were over dramatic. You were rooming with Leah, Sarina had said something about “broadening horizons” or something by switching up the rooms slightly, it meant nothing to you, it was your first camp. However this made you more nervous and scared about getting your period. Leah was really nice and kind, and you really enjoyed playing at Arsenal with her and you always took on any tips she had for you, but you were worried she would see you as weak after seeing how you were on your period. You knew she also had endometriosis and for the one and a half years you have been at arsenal she had not once taken a day off, making you feel like you just weren’t strong enough. You missed training almost once a month and Beth even forced you to pull out of a game one day, insisting she stayed with you missing the game as well. To be fair Leah had done her ACL a week before you signed for arsenal however you still never once heard her complain about it.
Training had been going well, even though you had a dull ache in your abdomen and you had a headache, you knew it meant you would be getting your period pretty soon but you thought you would be in clear at least for now and that you could make it through training, you just had to try and ignore the pain, that had slowly been increasing in intensity.
You were having a drink when a hand was placed on your shoulder, “do you have another pair of shorts?” It was Leah, “no,” you replied quietly trying not to cry, how did you manage to not bring a spare pair, of course this happened, you had travelled from your hotel on the bus to training so it wasn't like you could just go up to your room. “Okay, well why don’t you go to the locker room and I’ll just tell Sarina what is happening and then I’ll come to you, I have a spare pair.” “I should probably go get my tablets from the medics” “Do you-” you cut her off with a nod knowing what she was going to say before a wave of stabbing cramps caused you to hunch over slightly and clutch at your stomach. “It’s okay, I will do all of that, you just go to the locker room.” you nodded before you turned around and walked into the locker room.
Leah had noticed things not many people would, first it was how you missed a training session from the same week 3 months in a row, then it was the fact that you bled through more than you would’ve liked, and the last one was that you would always sit with your knees to your chest in meetings and breaks during the week that your day off fell into.
____
“Sarina, I think Y/N has just started her period, I’m just coming to tell you because she needs to change her shorts and doesn't have any but I do, so I was just going to go with her.” Leah says as she walked over to Sarina, who nodded before walking away from the other girls getting Leah to follow her, “She has endometriosis, the medics have her tablets and from what her doctors reports say it gets bad, it’s only a friendly, I might get someone to take you both back to the hotel, so we can make a judgement on how we approach this long term, I don’t want to risk her health. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, I think that might be good. Thank you” “No, thank you Leah. I know you will take good care of her, it might not just be a coincidence that you are her roommate.”
____
Once you got into your room you changed out of your training gear and Leah went down with one of the medics so she could get some things you may need.
Once you had changed you started to walk over to your bed when a shooting pain ran down your back and legs sending you to the floor. You were curled up on the floor of your room, holding your stomach tightly, just wishing Leah came back soon, maybe she could help. You really hated how your periods just started like a tidal wave, giving you no time to prepare. You felt like someone was squeezing and twisting your uterus, whilst your back cramped.
“Oh tiny,” Leah said sympathetically as she walked back into the room, she placed the items she had gotten on the bed before she crouched down in front of you.
“Do you want me to move you to the bed?” you gave her a weak nod, and she placed a hand on your shoulder before rolling you over slightly so she could pick you up, the slight movement caused you to whimper before the swift movement of her picking you up caused a heavy stream of tears to fall from your eyes, “I know, I know, I’m sorry”. She gently placed you down in the middle of your bed, before getting in next to you, her upper body was propped up slightly from the pillows as she laid down next to you. She silently handed you a hot water bottle which you placed on your stomach before curling up into a ball on top of her, your head resting on her chest. “Do you want one on your back too or no? I can keep it there,” “yes please,” you said weakly, she grabbed it and softly placed it on your back before holding it there.
“I have a sick bag if you need it, and please ask me for anything at all, I promise I wont judge you, I just want to help.” you just nodded slightly and she wrapped her free hand around you, you managed to fall asleep but even asleep Leah could tell you were still in pain.
____
“How is she, is she okay?” Beth panicked as she rushed into your room concerned for her favourite little person, she had obviously been informed by Sarina or one of the other staff. You had known Beth since you were born, you were very close family friends, your Dad’s knew each other from when they were young kids and even though you were 11 years younger than her you both always got along well. So when you moved to Arsenal it was a no-brainer that you would move in with her and Viv, it also meant they would have someone living with them to help. When her Mum died it hit you hard, June had been a big part of your life, always looking after you for your parents when their work caused them to be away, she would always show up to your weekend games if she was available and even came to your grandparents day at school, when your grandparents couldn't come but you didn't want your parents to go, when the teacher suggested you could bring an adult friend you had asked her and she happily accepted.
“Yeah she is okay, I think she is in a lot of pain though, it's kind of worrying me,” Leah said as she looked at you, noticing a fear tears were now leaving your eyes even as you slept.
“y/n” Leah softly said as she brushed her hand against your cheek causing your eyes to flutter open, “Beth is here,” you opened your eyes to see Beth sitting on Leah’s bed, “Can I go to the toilet?” “Sure, do you want me to help?” you nodded shyly and Beth helped you off Leah before steadying you as you walked into the bathroom, just as you entered the bathroom, you felt light headed and dizzy, everything was going blurry and there was a ringing in your ears.
“Beth-” your voice was laced with panic and pain “It’s okay, don’t worry, let's just sit on the floor,” Beth said calmly as she lowered you to the floor knowing what was going to happen, as soon as you were on the floor your body went limp against Beth’s and everything went black. “It’s okay, you’re okay, we’re here, we’ve got you,” you heard Beth say as you came back to, opening your eyes slowly so they knew, “Are you okay?” you shook your head as you closed your eyes again. All your body weight was still being supported by Beth, as you took some deep breaths “do you think you might be sick?” you nodded your head, and Leah quickly got the sick bag from the bed and handed it to Beth, “I’ve got a bag, okay. You’re going to be okay though, I promise, I’ve got you, no matter what happens,” Beth reassured you, a few minutes had passed and thankfully you hadn't been sick yet. “Are they always this bad?” Leah asked to which you nodded slightly before letting your head fall back against Beth’s shoulder, she brushed away the pieces of hair that were stuck to your forehead before giving you a small kiss on your forehead.
“Have-” Beth shook her head, “They wont do anything more Leah, we’ve been to extensive appointments, she is too young for them to look into more drastic things yet apparently, and due to her age she is limited on the strength and type of painkillers she is on but some months they are a bit better but they also can get a lot worse.”
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cry4mina · 2 days
Text
Death of Peace of Mind
(Dom!Momo x Fem!reader)
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Word Count: 4.6k
Pure Filty Smut/Maybe fluff if you squint?
Summary: You spend the afternoon being a brat to Momo via text and you pay for it later.
TW: this is literally just fucking. If that’s not something you want to read, please don’t! Strap ons, mommy kink, breeding kink, Momo is a top!, reader is a brat. Yeah.
A/N: Thanks to Momo brain rot for this happening and the moots for listening to me ramble about this for days. @nr1chaedickrider for the breeding kink ideaaaaaaaa.
“Alright babe, I’m leaving for practice…I have a meeting afterwards so I’ll be out a little later than usual.” leaning down to kiss you goodbye as you lay on the couch.
She’s wearing a black cropped tank top that leaves nothing to the imagination, abs and arms out for the world to see. Dad hat holding her hair out of her face and some leggings that hug her figure so beautifully that it makes your mouth water with the thought of tasting her.
Grabbing the back of her head, taking her hat off and pulling her closer to you creating a little more passion, shifting to sit up, holding her tightly while biting down lightly on her bottom lip and tugging.
Momo moans into your mouth, getting lost in you for a moment as you maneuver her on top of you, her knee between your legs and her body pressed against yours. Grinding down on her thigh lightly and running your nails softly over her muscular back in an attempt to snare her into your trap.
“I have to go, my love. You make it so hard to leave when you’re so needy for me. I’ll take care of you later, okay?” whispered merely centimeters away from your lips in a sultry tone, before she stood up and tried to head for the door. Hand not willing to let her go as you yank her back to you, causing her to stumble and fall on top of you.
Momo giggles, caressing your face as she kisses you passionately causing your hips to start lightly rocking against her body again, desperate for her touch.
“Do me a favor, baby?” innocence lacing the tone of her voice as she gets up grabbing her keys and heads for the door.
“Hm?” eyes filled with hunger as you follow her with every movement, hoping she will skip practice and stay between your legs.
“Don’t touch yourself while I’m gone.” Blowing you a kiss with a cheeky smile and stepping out of the door.
Scoffing and rolling your eyes, looking at the clock to see it was only 3:45pm. Even more frustrated knowing she won’t be home until 9ish tonight, you pout to yourself, missing her touch.
You flick on the TV for background noise so you could scroll through your phone and try to keep your mind off of your loving girlfriend.
7:30pm on the clock and your want for her only gets deeper, unable to keep her out of your head space for long. The fire in your stomach aches, thinking of the ways she could defile you and resisting the urge to slide your hands down the front of your pants.
Momo was always so sweet and gentle with you, having a dominant streak in the softest way. You wanted to see how far you could push her and if she would actually break when you did.
A smirk on your face as you open your messages, knowing she would be in her meeting around the rest of twice and her managers discussing their latest come back. You were going to insert yourself into her thoughts.
You: Baby
Momo: Hi honey, almost done
You: I need you
Momo: What's wrong, my love?
Momo: Is everything okay?
You: I miss the way you say my name
Momo: ??
She had to know what you meant but you were going to make sure she knew what was going to happen when she got home.
You: I miss the way you taste
Momo: Y/n…don’t start this right now…I told you I’d be home later to take care of you.
Putting your hand into your underwear and snapping a picture of what seems to be you touching yourself and sending it to her. Imagining her face when she sees it, in a room full of people that know her well enough to know when she’s flustered. Her turning bright red in anger thinking you’re doing exactly what she told you not to do.
You: *photo*
Momo: *thumbs down react*
Momo: Y/n…I told you not to touch yourself and you’re doing it anyway?
The plan to push her buttons was in full motion, sensing her annoyance already seeping into the tone of her texts.
Usually, you were on your best behavior for her but not today. She left you aching and unattended, did she really expect you to wait?
You: Maybe…what are you going to do about it? You aren’t here to stop me.
Giggling at provoking her, hoping you’d get an amplified version of your sweet adoring girlfriend.
Momo: You better stop or I won’t give you what you want when I get home.
You: Make me 😏
Imagining the fire behind Momo’s eyes with her jaw clenched in anger made you drip with anticipation of her arrival home. A new game ensued. How many of her buttons could you push before she got home? How angry can you make her before she gets here?
Momo: Fine. If you want to fuck yourself, do it.
Sighing immediately, was she really going to give in so easily and let you get away with this? It barely even started. Glaring into nothing as you toss your phone on the table, only to hear it vibrate again almost immediately.
Momo: You better not stop.
Momo: You aren’t allowed to cum. I want you ready for me when I get there.
The knot in your stomach tightens at the response you weren’t expecting, realizing she was just as ready to play this game as you were as another ping comes through.
Momo: That’s an order.
A smirk made its way to your face, snapping another picture of your waistband, no hand present down the front this time and sending it off.
Half lidded eyes anticipating her response, hips starting to move on their own without any stimulation, just thinking about what she would do to you if you kept annoying her this way.
Momo: Then I won’t help you cum later.
Momo: Why would I want to help a brat who doesn’t want to help herself?
Momo: Maybe I’ll just get you all riled up and leave you soaked and useless, ruining your panties for me.
Momo: I won’t give you anything you want, slut.
Oh, she is pissed. She’s only ever called you a slut once before and you had to beg her to do it. After years of trying to break her of her soft-top tendencies, she was finally catching onto what you wanted from her and applying it full force.
Whimpering into the quiet room you were laying in, a wet spot accumulating quickly underneath you, imagining her with her hands around your throat as you formulate your response carefully.
You: You wouldn’t be able to resist me dripping for you.
You: You think just because I push a few of your buttons, you won’t make me cum?
You: Aren't you going to take what’s yours?
“I wonder how far I can take this…” thinking out loud as you type out your next message. Momo was already furious with you, why not see how far you could push before she broke.
You: Or should I get someone else to take care of me, since you won’t?
Holding your breath as you wait, only having to wait a few seconds before the messages roll in.
Momo: …Someone else?? Oh, honey.
Momo: You are mine. I’ll be sure to remind you of that later.
A wave of heat flushes through your entire body, you loved how possessive over you she was. Always lightly marking you up anytime she could, even in public when someone looked at you a little longer than needed. Momo would pull you a little closer and bite down hard enough for you to moan in an act of dominance.
Maybe this time her marks would be darker.
Momo: You are lucky you aren’t here.
Momo: I’d have you under this desk on all fours, centimeters away from my pussy. No touching. No licking. Nothing.
Momo: Just making you watch me fuck myself.
Momo: Maybe I’d let you suck in my fingers, just to remind you of my taste.
Eye wide at the response, mouth open in pure shock at what she just said to you. You’d never seen her react this way before and you were very eager to explore it.
You: Come home, now.
Hastily typed out. Aching at the idea of Momo fucking the brat out of you.
Momo: No.
Momo: But maybe I’ll show you what I mean when I get there…I’ll make you wish you never started this.
Momo: Don't test me.
Thinking about how you could provoke her more when a lovely idea pops into your head. You slide your sweats off, pull your panties to the side and run your fingers down your slit and gather your slick, spreading it over your folds. Parting your lips, taking a picture of it and sending it off to Momo.
You: *photo*
Momo: My pathetic little whore.
A chill down your spine causes you to squirm senselessly at her response, moaning lightly into the empty room as she stokes the fire building within you.
You: Yes, baby?
Momo: I bet you’re clenching around nothing just thinking about me.
Momo: I’ll get you so god damn close and then ruin every orgasm you have.
Momo: Keep going to see how this ends for you.
Smirking and knowing you have her exactly where you want her.
You: I want you to ruin me and I’m going to push you until you give me exactly what I want.
Momo: Oh baby, I’m going to ruin you.
Momo: But don’t cry when I don’t let you cum.
You: I’ll cum before you get home.
Relentlessly poking at the tensions building between the two of you, glancing at the clock to see 8:18pm. She’ll be on her way home soon and maybe you’ll ignore her until she’s in front of you.
Momo: You better fucking not.
Momo: I swear y/n if i come home and you are anywhere near close to cumming, you’ll regret it.
Five minutes goes by and your phone is vibrating without any break in sight, just watching her messages come in and giggling to yourself as her rage shows its face.
Momo: You desperate little brat, you better not be doing what I think you’re doing.
Momo: You have 3 minutes to answer me or you’ll regret it!
Phone ringing as Momo calls you, smile across your face as you try to answer the phone with a careless tone.
“Hello?”
“What are you doing?” tone riddled with animosity.
“Laying on the couch watching TV…what are you doing?” Nonchalantly thrown back at her.
“Excuse me?” Scoffing at the audacity of you being so calm after what you pulled during her meeting.
“You’re just going to pretend like you didn’t jus- you know what…I’ll see you soon.” hanging up the phone immediately.
You’re surprised as she ends the call abruptly and try to patiently wait for her arrival, deciding to add a little spice to this already heated situation.
Running upstairs and stripping almost completely nude, leaving a trail of clothes behind you. How mad would she be if she came home and saw you touching yourself over your underwear on her side of the bed?
You didn’t start until you heard the front door open, slowly sliding your fingers down to your cloth covered folds. You’re absolutely sopping wet when you hear her exclaim at your trail of clothes, followed by an annoyed chuckle.
“Oh…you fucking bitch.” Grimaced through teeth, followed by heavy footsteps up the stairs. Excitement quickly spreads across your face, hastily trying to hide it before she sees.
The bedroom door flies open, slamming against the wall as Momo steps through the threshold with her jaw clenched, brows furrowed, and a scowl that could’ve turned the meanest person into a crying mess.
“What the fuck do you think your doing?” calmly said through gritted teeth as she watches you rub your clit through your soaked underwear.
“Baking cookies.” taking your finger and bringing it to your mouth to slowly suck the slick that seeped through the fabric of your panties off of them, making direct eye contact with a flushed Momo.
“Did you want a taste, baby?” smug in your expression, so proud of how livid she looks, when suddenly a slight smile forms on her face.
This causes your gaze to drop instantly as she goes into your closet and pulls out one of her black silk ties. Leaning nonchalantly onto the frame, making direct eye contact with you as she loops the smooth fabric within itself to create a pair of make-shift handcuffs, slowly sauntering over to you as she tightens a few of the knots before stopping short at the edge of the bed.
“Get up.” cold as ice from her lips, one her eyebrows raised at you as she gathers her hair and pulls it up into a small ponytail, a few locks hanging to shape her face.
Completely stunned by the energy she’s emitting, unable to do anything but gawk at how enticing she looked when she was this angry. Watching it steam off of her when she suddenly grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, causing you to squeal out of shock.
A hand slides from your stomach up your chest, fingertips dancing on your skin as she clamps her hand around your throat and pulls you up into a seated position, squeezing lightly and getting an inch from your face.
“Since my little slut thinks it’s okay to do whatever she wants, regardless of what I say, I’m going to show you what being a defiant whore gets you.” grabbing one of your wrists as she crawls into the bed behind you, pulling your arm with her and fastening it next to the other one, tightening just enough so you can’t wiggle out.
This new side of Momo had you leaking for whatever was next, watching her remove the black tank top and leggings, exposing her bare breasts and red thong with a sizable wet spot on it.
“Seems like you might like me being a defiant bitch…” slyly said as you tug at the restraints, unintentionally making them tighter as you pull.
Chuckling to herself as she pushes you down onto your back by your chest, going over to the nightstand to pull something out of the drawer where you keep the toys. She throws something on the bed, you were too focused on her to even know what it was.
“Awh, look at how your pussy weeps for me. Aren’t you just a perfect little slut for Mommy?” dragging a single finger up your drenched underwear causing a whimper to erupt from you as she licks your nectar off her middle digit.
“Is my baby so needy? Desperate for me to touch her? You’ll watch before you touch…If I allow you to touch.” climbing over top of you and hovering her cunt so close to your face as she teases you.
“I’ll just fuck myself over your face and make you watch. I’ll make you regret defying me” as a hand descends down to her slit, lightly rubbing her swollen clit over the lace that barely hides it.
Your entire body is on fire as you watch the way she rocks her hips over your face, thighs clenched as she makes sure to be louder than normal for you, torturing you with her moans as she grinds on her own hand, smacking your thighs behind her to stop you from gaining any pleasure by your own doing.
“Please” urgently escapes your lips before you can stop it as you tilt your neck up, trying to taste her. Warm breath causes her to let out a string of whimpers before finding a seat on your chest, legs starting to tremble as she speeds up the pace she’s tracing her slit.
Feeling how warm her slick is as she toys with her clit over the fabric right in front of your face. She’s got the most desperate look in her half lidded eyes as she pulls her panties to the side and makes you watch her spread her wetness around her folds.
“That’s right - fuck -, you better fucking beg.” gasped through blushed cheeks. She’s dripping onto your chest as you squirm underneath her, pulsating the words you rarely heard in the times you’ve seen Momo get a little more aggressive than usual.
“Please, I’ve waited for you all day…I need you.” aching as you plead for her to give you something, anything, to satiate the burn between your legs, slowly starting to thrust your hip light.
“…mmm, do you really think you deserve it after what you did? After all, you can’t do one little thing for me - shit- …why should I reward a disobedient brat like you?” cursing at the sensation she was giving herself.
“Be-...because you love me…?” pouting underneath her, catching her a little off guard. She slows down in her stutter, grabbing you hair roughly as she scoots up closer to your chin.
“Open your mouth.” Harshly stated through gritted teeth, eyes glaring down at your fuck me eyes and smirk of defiance, clenching your jaw just to show her you are, in fact, going to make her work for this.
“ I said, " Open. Your mouth.” half hissed as she tightened her grip on your hair, pulling you up to her drenched core. Sticking your tongue out immediately and tasting the sweet juices of a livid momo.
Scooting closer with legs on the sides of your head, she grinds into you at full force, clit hitting your nose and gliding down to your chin. Simply using your face the way that she pleased when she picks up her speed, how was she already this close?
Her flavor permeates your senses, dripping down your neck as she rides your tongue faster, leaning back to lightly tease your clit over the ruined panties you were wearing, causing you to moan desperately into her core.
Shuttering at the vibrations, bucking her hips faster as she lets out one of the most guttural moans you’ve ever heard from her. Moving your face as fast as you can against her, attempting to help her ride out the feeling, her clenching as your tongue passes her entrance.
“Fuck…now you want to be good for me?” harshly questioned as she gets up off your face and removes her underwear for good. Standing naked before you, muscles on display for you to see before she kneels down between your legs, throwing them over her shoulders and bringing her face to your cunt.
“Do you think you’re desperate enough to cum like this?” taking a long lick right up the center of you.
“Or should I be nice and remove these?” lightly slapping your clit, not allowing you to reply, as she pulls the elastic- completely snapping it to remove your panties, nails leaving marks on your hips as she watches you drip for her, leaking effortlessly onto the sheets.
“Such a shame you lost your touching privileges…I’d love for you to grab my head and ride my face the way you usually do, but I think tonight I’ll give you a taste of your own medicine.” breathed out onto your cunt before she sticks her tongue out, lightly teasing by softly tracing only the tip on your lips, grazing past your clit gently just to hear you whimper for her.
Thrusting as much as you could underneath her grip and she teased you, giving you the smallest stimulation she could just to make you insane, knowing exactly how needy and desperate you were for her. She couldn’t help but make it worse.
“Please Mommy. - mmhm- I need yo-” cut off by the feeling of Momo’s tongue coasting through your folds with ease. Mixing her saliva with your slick, moaning while she explores every part of your cunt. Lapping up your heat and making her way to your clit, lightly suckling on it before backing away completely.
“Momo -please- I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll be good, just please touch me.” aching as you make your offer to your counterpart, whose head is tilted, lips pursed and hunger in her eyes as she looks up at you from between your legs.
“Whatever I want?” questioned back at you before she chuckles to herself, not breaking eye contact.
“I think we knew that was going to happen with or without that offer, honey.” batting her eyelashes at you before winking and slithering closer to you.
A loud gasp from your lips as Momo’s tongue finds your clit again, stimulation immediately causing you to moan her name loud enough to suck harshly at you. A groan from her as she slides 2 fingers into you so easily she doesn’t even need to wait for you to adjust.
“Needy slut’s been thinking about my mouth all day, hm?” between licks as she starts to roughly curl her fingers up, no build up to the pleasure she was giving you. Intense, rough, fast thrusts overstimulating you into speechlessness as your entire body tenses. You’re about to cum and you can’t even tell her.
She realizes what’s happening but it’s too late. You’re already arching your back at the rush of adrenaline when she removes herself from you, fully. Ruining the rest of the orgasm for you, completely causing you to shriek loudly as tears filled your eyes.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” as you try to break your restraint so you can take control.
“I told you that I wasn’t going to let you cum.” smacking your pussy again before grabbing the toy she removed from the drawer.
Your eyes focus on what she’s got in her hands as she’s placing it inside of herself, and adjusting the straps and the front so it grinds when she does. Immediately, you realize it’s the one you never use. The one that’s a little bigger than you prefer.
Approaching you again, strap lining up with you as she slides up across your clit, jolting and groaning curses underneath her. Shockwaves from the orgasm she just stole from you returning, quaking as she slides it back down, teasing you until you start bucking your hips at her.
“Awh, is my spoiled brat rutting against me? So desperate to cum?” catching the tip of the strap at your entrance just to tease you, pausing for a second as she spits on your swollen pussy, making eye contact with you as she does.
Getting up to cut off your pleasure yet again, you are instantly frustrated and on the brink of tears, letting out a wail; you’re beyond words at this point.
Momo rolls you over and arches your back for you, placing a pillow underneath your stomach for leverage. Grinding her strap along your slit again before sliding all the way inside you, bottoming out completely, causing a languid moan to erupt from both of you.
“I don’t care if you cum, I’m going to use you until I do,” laying against you and gnawing at your shoulders, being sure to mark you up while she slowly starts to slide in and out of you. Tapping your hips to signal you to make a wider stance as she sinks into you with great force. Slamming over and over again causing you to jolt everytime she hits your cervix.
Vision is blurred, words slurring and completely a mess as she continues quickly pounding you. You’re incoherently moaning and squealing as she slides past every single sensitive spot inside of you. Grabbing your restraints, pulling you up by them as she rails into you aggressively, chasing her own pleasure.
“You’re just -shit- a fucking toy…for me to…cum in” the sound of skin slapping and guttural noises fill the room when your brain registers what was just spoken. To cum…in? Oh!
“Fill me, Mommy! -fuck baby- Make me yours!” Whimpered out, grinning to yourself as you felt the knot of your stomach tighten. She pounds incessantly into you, clenching around her as she starts pistoning her hips harder.
Momo pulls you flush against her and wraps her forearm around your neck, halfway choking you while one of her hands finds its place on your lower stomach to hold you in place.
Soft grunts falling from her mouth as she bites into your neck harshly before whispering, “gonna fill you.”
The build up inside you is quick as you involuntarily clench around her again, almost stopping her movement in its tracks, seeing stars as you gush around her muted movements, practically screaming as your body twitches against her.
“Good girl,” as Momo’s dominance falters along with her pace, becoming sporadic in nature as she tries to hold you up, attempting to force her orgasm away so she can overstimulate you. Ramming into you with no rhythm at all causing euphoria in your stomach as you clench around her again.
“You’re so lucky this is a strap,” gasping as she tightens her grip on you.
“I’d breed you like the little bitch you are, if I could.” nails digging into your skin, leaving crescent shaped indents along your hip.
“Cum in me” breathed between jolts as she gave her last few hard strokes before she let out a snarl, climaxing as she continued to rock into you, letting you fall back onto the bed as she rode it out in you.
Both of you completely fucked out as she pulls the strap out of you. Letting out a whine at the empty feeling as she unties your hands and picks you up bridal style, only to lay you down on your side of the bed, laying by your side, holding you and shifting hair out of your face.
Kissing you passionately for the first time that night and brings you closer to her. You can’t help but feel a sense of calm facing each other and laying in one other’s arms.
“So…breeding kink, huh? That’s new.” teasing her through your sleep laced voice.
“Don’t ruin the moment, I’m still not happy with you.” Kissing your forehead and smiling, despite her words.
Raising your hand up and pulling her face down to connect your lips, pulling her close to you and grinding down onto the cum soaked strap she was still wearing.
Momo’s hand finds its way to the strap and points it up as you grind causing it to slip inside you. Legs now holding onto her torso as she lightly pumps her waist forward into you.
“Fuck, it hurts so good.” whimpered into her ear, continuing by snapping her hips into you.
“I told you, you couldn’t resist me…why did you even try?” as your third orgasm was approaching, she’s circling your swollen clit with her fingers and watching your face contort with her movements.
“I’m gonna cum,” when she pulls out again, removing her hand from you, quickly undoing the leather on her sides and discarding the harness and source of pleasure to the floor, huge smile on her face.
The absolute earth shattering quack inside of you is almost unbearable as she turns to face the opposite direction, wiggling into her spot and letting out a satisfied sigh.
“Momo…you’re kidding, right?” in disbelief, thrusting your hips into nothing as you whine for her.
“Remember this the next time you decide you want to be disobedient.” sharply exhaled as she drifted into a soft sleep.
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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 days
Note
Hello!!!
Can I put in a writing request??
Because I love your writing!!! 🥹
Can you do (either human alastor.. or demon alastor i love both but human alastor has a chokehold on me haha) but his partner is plus size and they are very self conscious about it
Can be smut if you like (I'm waaaay okay with that)
omg yessss i’m gonna do human alastor because he does need some attention <3 also felt this personallyyyy so i did it sooo fast 🙈 ima chunky gorl myself and with summer approaching things always get tough. i lot of what i wrote here is my own personal experience and shit so i don’t want anyone to think this is something they should feel or notice or be ashamed of! Just so you know!
warnings: SMUT 18+, gender neutral but use of clit, feral alastor, Human!alastor, kinda ooc in the way he is ravenous for reader sexually, reader doesn’t know he’s a murderer, self loathing, self hate, body worship maybe, biting breifly, alastor kinda rich or whatever for the time, insecure reader, plus size reader, body part like stomach thighs highlighted, crying, husband alastor, comfort from Al. swearing, lmk if there’s anything else! NOT PROOFREAD YALL
also i wanted to use junoisded ‘s work (on IG) but i don’t think they like things reposted unless asked and i am way to shy but go check them out their human alastor is mouthhhhh watering gawd
Closing the door behind you, you sat your bag on the table a sullen look on your face. It was particularly difficult week for you, it was getting warmer in New Orleans and when it got warm what was really meant was hot humid gross. It almost felt embarrassing at times to leave the house, the clothes companies made weren’t anything like what other people wore they were hideous, and you sweat, and just felt kind of self conscious.
Especially with Alastor. His popularity grew expeditiously over the last couple of years, with people now being able to recognize his voice all around. His popularity was a gift and a curse, a gift because you didn’t have to work through the stock market issues whereas many people your age did, and a curse because more women and men alike wanted him.
You weren’t jealous because Alastor made it pretty clear he only had eyes for you, however you couldn’t stop the comparison, you usually felt decent about yourself and your looks and Alastor made you more assured in your beliefs. But as more people would recognize him, and he’d give them that charming smile, and they’d flirt, you’d get a little jealous and insecure.
You walked into yours and Alastors shared bedroom, slipping off your shoes and looking into the mirror. You wanted to buy some nice clothing for an event you and Alastor were attending within the week, it was very hush puppy as it served contraband, however you couldn’t find anything at the market, and the tailors would be just too much to ask of Alastor.
Your lip quivered not with sadness but frustration, you just wanted to be at the same level as everybody else, without the issues, and being constantly told how to eat or use your body or dress yourself. Sitting on the bed your thighs spread out around you, stomach resting atop. Tears kept flowing pitifully as you took a moment to wrap your head around your spiraling thoughts. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your arms around your back, begining to take off the clothes that stuck to your sweaty body.
‘Loose leisure clothes.’ You chanted as you shook your trousers to your ankles and opened the drawers to your dresser. You remembered as you caught sight of one of Alastors red suit jackets, a gentleman who had commented that Alastor was far too small to lend his jacket to you on a cold night, which make you feel so bad about yourself. Slamming the drawer closed you cradled your head, this wasn’t fair, you would be ten times better with yourself if people weren’t so casually cruel.
You were okay, you were loved, but it seemed in other aspects of life people had to assure you weren’t due to how you looked. “My dear, what’re you doing all dressed down like this?” Alastors voice rang out joyfully. With a jump and a squeak your arms go to cover your body, however Alastor had already turned his back for you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart! I should’ve knocked!” Even though Alastor was being respectful, a nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of you.
“Uhm, well you can look actually…” You muttered voice just above a whisper as you rubbed your arm. Alastors hands were on his hips, elbows pointed out head facing down, then he perked up head looking behind him. Smile present on his face his eyes shamelessly drank you up. “I couldn’t find any clothes,” You mutter your throat closing as the tears returned with the thoughts of before.
Alastors body finally turned his smile falling as he watched your from recoil away from his gaze. Stepping into the room his dress shoes clinked against the wooden floor as he approached you his arms outstretched to you. Immediately you fell into his embrace holding back the urge to cry, you wanted to be as strong as he was; smiling through no matter.
However when his hand began rubbing your back, soft words of worry falling from his lips, you lost it. Burying your face into his shoulder you cried, muttering your insecurities into him as he cradled you. “And Alastor they must think i’m a joke, you’re so small compared to me.” You cried out, pulling back to look into his chocolate eyes. Quickly he pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket, his smile now a frown as he watched tears roll down your cheeks.
“My my, that’s the best part doudou. I love having flesh to bite, grip, squeeze,” Alastor grinned speaking through his closed teeth as he gripped your waist pulling your hips to his and you looked down hiding your face at his ridiculous nickname for you. “I feel proud to be able to feed you, my mother would be proud too, she’d absolutely love you. Worry not my dearest doe, i will have anything tailored to your need, and any crude bastard to comment on you I will hand slaughter the night of thee event, just to send a little message.” Alastor puffed his chest into you, his voice strangely dark and possessive, his eyes gleaming with pride as he kneaded your flesh beneath his fingers.
You never thought about it like that Alastor being able to properly provide for you, no; that was the fun of Alastor though he always knew how to twist things into something better than. Not to mention the idea of him being willing to commit a crime for you in the midst of a serial killer going around, that was something very special to you, strangely enough.
“Alastor you’re insane sometimes, but i love you.” You grinned finally, in turn making Alastors smile return larger then ever. Hands crawling up his chest and neck, you pulled him close and into a kiss. Your immediately Alastor gave into your tug, crashing his lips quickly onto your own roughly, his body grinding into your own as he did so, impatient to show you how much you mean to him though his psychical affections.
His hands gripped every little bit of flesh they passed, trailing up and down your body rolls and all, indulging his desire for you. You moaned lightly into his mouth when you felt the hard pressure of him pressed against your thigh. Alastor pulled away biting your lip as he did so, dragging it out. His eyes were lidded and one of his perfectly gelled curls fell forward and down touching the brim of his eyeglasses. “See how quickly you make me indecent my dear? Oh sweet doe, you make me so disgusting.” Alastor whined in a way, which you’d never heard, and stuffed his head into your neck, kissing, biting and sucking at your warm neck
“Alastor i’m sweaty!” You squeal as he dragged his tongue up your neck, biting at the flesh under you chin. “I know,” He mumbled quickly barely breaking away from decorating your neck. “So stop!” You huffed noncommittally as your hands came down to rest on his shoulders, lightly pushing him. “Why my little doe, you taste better this way.”
Alastor pulled back his coy smile on display as he did so, there was something so disbelieved and feral about how he looked despite not being unkept in the slightest. You felt slightly embarrassed by him admitting he liked you sweaty, but it was also comforting knowing that things you thought made you repulsive, actually attracted him.
“Come to bed with me, chérie?” Alastor hummed slyly, pulling your wrists gently toward the direction of the bed, where he was walking. “To sleep?” You asked flatly eyebrow raised, this caused a genuine laugh to bubble out of Alastors chest his head shaking just a bit. “No, and i think you knew that.” He whispered as he tugged you into him and then down onto the bed. You tensed as he did so, sitting up on your elbows you look at him and scold him.
You paused as Alastors gaze beat down on you hotly, it was sinful how he was looking at you with that cheshire grin on his face. He pulled off his glove with his teeth and used his degloved hand to remove the other one before he undid his vest, chucking it aside carelessly. You took a deep breath your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you watched him closely.
Yes you’ve had sex with Alastor before, although neither of you had a high libido so it wasn’t often, and when it was it wasn’t needy like now, no, it was loving, passionate. Alastor tossed his shirt aside crawling ontop of you right after, groaning as he pressed his bulged into the warmth of your thighs. Whimpering you covered your eyes unable to face the lustful look he was giving you.
His warm flesh melted into yours as he lowered himself ontop of you, his skin hot and sticky from being out in the louisiana heat, his breath tickled your skin as his lips dragged around your neck teasingly. “Gosh Al, I - you’re making me feel so- please.” You moaned quietly unable to place the feeling coursing through you. A mixture of wanting to beg him to devour you and wanting to hide yourself away from his heated gestures.
“What is is it you need, my dear?” His voice was sweet like honey as he breathed his sin into your ear, hand coming up under the leg hole of your undergarments, inching closer to your core. You breath was quievered as your hands found there way to his slightly musicled biceps, sinking your nails into them. Finally he backed up on his knees, and yanked down your undergarments, making you gasp.
Your husband has never been this, it made you dizzy and confused, why has he been hiding such ravenousness from you? Alastor looked down at you with pity, your legs reflexively closed before he could get a glimpse of your pretty. “Please darling don’t be modest, I need you more then ever now. I’m a starved man don’t you know? I need your quench.” You watched him as he spoke, his eyebrows knitted his face soft as he mockingly pleaded with you while he undid the button in his slacks and soon pulled down the zipper.
With jagged breaths you watched him disrobe, pulling his cock from his boxers and stroking it for you to see. Precum dripped from the tip and down his shaft, mixing into the dark coiled public hair at the base. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You whined looking away, you heard him chuckle at an octave you’ve never heard before. “What’s wrong darling? Can’t stand to see how perverse you make me? How cruel, honestly.” He huffed before his warm hands came to grip on your knees, yanking them apart. “My dear, you’re absolutely devine, you have no idea. It’s sickeningly cruel on my part, but I can’t help but be greedy about the way I only get to have you. In a world of commons, i get the rare.” Alastors hips slotted in between your thighs like many times before but this time you were so soaked you needed no foreplay. The head of his shaft prodded at your entrance, making your hips tilt forward attempting to gain friction and contact.
“Please Al, don’t make me beg you.” You moaned quietly, ashamed of how quickly you bent to his will. Alastor grinned down at you, admiring your body relaxed and needy beneath him. There wasn’t a soul he’d replace you for, you were everything and more. He could come clean about his murders and you’d kiss his cheek and serve him some whisky for his stress, because you were family, you were his.
Alastor slid into you slowly, feeling every inch of you against him, his thighs pressed against your own, he loved the feeling of you consuming him all at once. The way your body embraced his own was heaven on earth, you were his comfort that he didn’t deserved. As he watched you beneath him gasp, shake and moan as he sunk into slowly, harshly and repeatedly, he whispered sweet nothings to you. He let out a condescending chuckle while calling you a good pet, told you your body was his to love too and for shame for berating it.
You saw stars and he would slowly pull out and slam back in, believing that was the extent of this session. However, Alastor pressed his hips fully up against your own, kneading the softness of your belly as he stilled. Leaning down he captured you in a kiss, catching you off guard. You reciprocated fisting his curly hair and pulling him closer, which in response made him growl and grunt into you. He felt you clench around him at the sound, and in the moment decided he’d show you how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.
Suddenly Alastor pulled his hips back, and grinded back down into you, his public hair tickling your swollen clit, juices from your arousal squelching as he did so. This time he wasn’t slow, his pace was even and moderate, fucking you into the mattress so hard, the springs snapped, the wood creaked and you swore the bed frame was moving. Alastor pulled away from your swollen lips burying his face in your neck, he moaned for you.
You rolled your eyes back at the sounds he made, ahs, uhs and groans that were only for you. “Oh fuck Alastor i’m gonna cum,” You squeaked clenching your toes tightly as he jackhammered into you, breathing and gasping into your ear as he felt you grip him. Alastor wasn’t proud to admit it but he was too weak to respond, instead he bit down, sucking and groaning into your skin. His pace got clumsy as you cried out in ecstasy, coiling your body around him as you came harshly.
Your arm around his back, one arm around his neck and gripping his hair, and your legs tightly locked around your hips, yeah Alastor couldn’t resist himself from shooting strings into you. Your body jolted as he came shaking your while body, his grunts and whines making your sensitive hole clench him nearer. Without a warning his body collapsed ontop of yours, a deep breath escaping him as he finally relaxed. “I’ve never felt that before dear,” Alastor admitted after a moment of silence. “Me neither, made me forget about everything.” You say hazily, your voice lifted and raw from the noises you let out.
Alastor chucked his fogged glasses to the side, pulling himself out with a huff. Smiling sweetly you watched him gently place a kiss on your stomach and walk off. Sitting up you nearly went to call after him, before his naked body came waltzing back with a rag. “Wanna have a lazy evening in chérie?” You hummed approvingly, and attempted to take the rag, he scoffed at you and lightly pushed your hand away. Softly and embarrassingly so, he cleaned you from himself, enjoying the sight while he was at it.
Once finished Alastor returned the rag as you readied the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. Coming back in Alastor went to grab you both clothes before you called to him. “Can, well- i want to feel you still?” You questioned more than said. Shutting the drawer with a slam he grinned like the little cheshire he was and crawled into bed with you. You pulled him in and he you, nuzzling yourself into his chest you whimpered at the contact, feeling various emotions run through you.
“I chose you my dear, for many reasons not only your looks, your love, your passion but your body too, I love all parts of you, and I know how thoughtless people can be, I will protect you from those comments in the future.” Alastor whispers into your head kissing the top of it right after. You caressed his chest with your nails, throwing your leg over his torso. “Thank you Alastor. I love you too, hell there’s nothing that would make me not love you.” Alastor scoffed his grin returning. “Even murder?” He questioned angling his neck to the side to meet your eyes. Smiling up at him you gave a point nod. “Even murder.”
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disneyprincemuke · 18 hours
Text
what if i told you that i've fallen? * ls2
[part one out of eight]
and what do you do when you fall in love with the person you swear is your best friend in the entire world?
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver
notes: u don't have to be acquainted with the original series to read and enjoy this i promise there's context here like i swear i swear i-
this is also A STANDALONE FIC OK THIS Is juST THEIR MEGA TIMELINE FIC WHERE whaT IF i entertained the idea of them ending up together xoxo <3
wc: 6.2k
(series masterlist) | (through the years)
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2020
girls and guys can always be just friends for the rest of their lives. realistically, it isn’t that difficult to prove it: her friendship with oscar has always been the one remaining evidence that it is possible. and for years, her friendship with logan also told everyone that the phenomenon of ‘opposite gender friendships are impossible’ is simply a lie.
that was when she stepped out of her university campus one evening: a breeze blew her hair back, stray leaves swirling on the ground as logan leaned against the hood of his car. she felt her heart drop to her stomach when he looked up from his phone to smile at her.
suddenly her best friend didn’t seem like much of a best friend anymore. suddenly, she got giddy at the thought of sitting in the passenger side of his car; blushing when he put a hand on the back of the headrest as he reversed the car out of their parking spot. all of the things that he does have got a deeper meaning to them — is he doing that mindlessly or is she crazy to think that he could possibly feel the same?
truthfully, she has no idea where the feelings came from. up to now, she’d only ever seen logan as a best friend with whom she had several things in common. not to forget 1 of the 2 people who drove her around in their fancy cars whenever she needed them to. and not only that, one of the kids her parents let stay with them in their house during times they had to spend apart from their families back home.
“hey, feeling alright?” oscar elbows her gently.
the girl perks up slightly, turning to him with a wide smile as she blinks rapidly. “yeah, why do you ask?” she follows his gaze down to the untouched cup of mojito sitting on the table. she meets his eyes again with a sheepish laugh. “i just don’t really feel like drinking tonight.”
the sheer thought of having feelings deeper than the surface level for logan was enough to make her stomach churn.
oscar raises his eyebrow, glancing at the mojito again. “i don’t believe that.”
“i swear!” she shrieks, eyes widening as she waves oscar’s concerns away. “i’m just not feeling the club at all, actually.”
“really? but you’re usually in your element when we go clubbing,” oscar frowns, taking the mojito into his hands and starting to drink it immediately. it’s odd that she’s not out on the dance floor, creating a small dance party with random goers. “is something wrong? you can talk to me.”
she looks over her shoulder as the sight of her best friend on the dance floor with another girl greets her once more. it’s only complicated because she got him that girl the minute they stepped into the club. it’s what logan always teases her about being able to score him dates and girls even better than he could all by himself. she has this way of talking him up where girls immediately fall for him. it’s a power, even.
he praises her for that all the time.
as much as she’s convinced that this crush would never develop into something more than it is, it worries her. this one is different. she knows by heart because she’s never been kept up all night by anything before — not even her toughest days in school had gotten her this stressed.
racing, maybe, but nothing else.
and she knows she can’t talk to oscar about this. so she takes a deep breath and shakes her head again. “it’s nothing. i think i’ll just order some bar food.” she scooches out of their booth. “do you want any?”
“i’m alright, mate,” oscar grins. he waves goodbye to her, watching her disappear into the crowd. he turns to lily. “did you notice that? she was acting weird, wasn’t she? it’s not just me?”
lily nods, taking a sip from the mojito that the young girl left behind. “it is. we should try and figure that out soon before it gets bad.”
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logan couldn’t tell you when he started seeing his best friend as more than just a friend. it came randomly.
the last time he remembered feeling normal about her was the night they all slept in his room the night before her first race in formula 3. someone was shivering and it sure as hell was not the guy sleeping next to him on the other bed with a blanket strewn over his shoulders tightly. when he sat up, he snorted when he saw the younger girl curled up into a ball as her teeth softly chattered.
he sighed as he got up to his feet, picking up the blankets that she’d conveniently kicked down to the ground sometime during her slumber. he would never have noticed if he hadn’t stepped on it, her stuffed animal lying on the ground, abandoned and betrayed by her after she discarded everything on the bed with her initially.
he remembers that he laughed as he lifted her arm, placing the stuffed animal under her arms. and he thought that she looked so adorable nuzzling her cheek into the plushie, falling into an even deeper sleep.
what got him was when he laid the blanket over her. she pulled the blankets around herself a little tighter, smiling in satisfaction as she felt her body start to warm up. “thanks,” she whispered before abruptly snoring again.
he felt his heart go heavy at the sight, thumping against his chest as she sighed heavily. suddenly his head starts to spin and he feels something he’s never really felt for anyone before.
and, oh, god. he needs to sit down.
he sat at the edge of her bed, scratching his head as both of his friends slept. he looked over at her and felt something tugging at his heart and he knew instantly that it was over for him and the way he looked at her.
he thought it was just a fleeting crush and something that would eventually go away. but it’s been 2 weeks and he still hasn’t been able to push away the nagging feeling in his chest. everything just leads back to the girl with the seemingly brightest smile and most hypnotising eyes.
it wasn’t long until he felt like he could burst from the way he felt. which is why he’s now sitting opposite oscar, at brunch, while they wait for her and lily to arrive from stopping by at a bakery not too far away. he’s bearing holes into oscar’s head, waiting to catch his attention, but the australian seems to be too caught up with what’s on his phone than his friend quietly breaking down across the table.
“oscar,” logan finally says, hand darting out to try and catch his attention. “mate, i need to tell you something. it’s important.”
“oh, you never really have anything serious to say.” oscar puts his phone down on the table, pressing his lips together. he folds his arms and leans on the table. “did you do something bad again? you have to tell her dad this time, i can’t keep doing that for you, mate.”
“no, no,” logan sighs, shaking his head. “i’m serious. this is serious. like, you can’t tell lily at all.”
“wha–“
“i know you tell lily everything, no shame in that. but you really cannot tell her this one.”
oscar furrows his eyebrows. “you’re kind of scaring me. how serious is this thing you’ve done?”
“insanely serious.” logan puts his palm on the table. “mate, i think i’m in love.”
out of all the girls that logan has ever been with, he’s never once said that he’s in love. or at least said it out loud. if oscar is hearing about it for the first time since they met years ago, logan must be pretty serious about this.
logan’s just never been the type to commit to anyone, more or less ever claiming that he is in love with any of the girls that he’s gone out on a date with.
oscar looks around, worried that the girls may have already arrived and overheard his friend. “you’ve never ever said that before. are you serious?” logan nods. “like for real, serious? you’re sure about this girl?”
“that’s the thing.” logan starts to play with the menu, opening and closing it as he tries to play off the severity of his feelings. “i don’t know. but it’s been bugging me for weeks now. i can’t get her out of my head.”
“it must be serious if this has been going on for weeks,” oscar scoffs with a small smile. “how long have you known her?”
logan contemplates telling oscar the truth. will oscar ever slip up and tell her about his feelings? and what will happen if it changes everything and he loses his best friends? literally, the people he knows are his ride-or-die.
“you have no idea the severity. it’s–“
“why are you hunched over whispering like a bunch of schoolgirls with gossip?” she snorts, patting logan on the shoulder as she slots herself in the empty spot next to him in the booth. “anything to tell me?”
logan shakes his head, moving in further to give her the spot. “nope, nothing.”
without anything said, oscar feels like logan’s already told him everything. typically, she’s always in the knows of anything feelings-related, or anything that has to do with a crush. and he knows logan doesn’t mind that lily knows. the arrows are only pointing at one possible person present in the room.
but it can’t be. they’re all best friends.
“ah, keeping secrets now, i see,” she hums, narrowing her eyes down into a suspicious stare.
“way to hold it against me, mate,” logan scoffs, picking up the menu from the table. he glances at oscar across the table who raises his eyebrows at him.
logan, already knowing that he’s caught on, just nods in devastation. in a way that oscar’s never seen him before and that in itself is concerning.
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the feeling never stops gnawing at her when she lies awake at night in her bed. she tosses and turns for hours, biting her fingernails as she tugs on her hair in frustration.
her lock screen, a picture of the 3 of them at a track from just a couple of days ago, consumes her. she’s come to overanalyse everything: his hand placements in pictures, their text messages, the way he speaks to her, everything that he does seems to mean more than it used to. and it should not be this way at all.
he is her best friend, after all. and what would she know about crushes and love? she could have been a small percentage of the population that grew up without really having one. it’s not something she concerned herself about over the years.
of course, she allowed herself that one boyfriend when she was 16. but even now she knows that that was not love.
could this be love? surely not — not with her best friend.
not with the boy who moved into her house when she was 13 to live with them for some months of the year, then leaving to spend the holidays with his family in florida. it’s not fair that she is consumed whole by the thought of being his girl.
because when you grow up alongside people, you tend to know the worst side of them. especially when you live together.
but why is it that, as aware as she is of logan’s flaws and everything that made girls want to walk away, she still longs to have him all to herself?
she hears his voice mixed with oscar’s from the next room over. it seems that they are also kept up by something that doesn’t seem to concern her. should she join them for another sleepless night like she typically does?
but it seems to be almost crossing the line of the boundaries of late night conversations they seem to be having. she hums, dropping her phone next to her head as she rolls over to lie on her back.
she looks up at the ceiling and tries to map the past couple of years and how it’s led her here. her heart thumps in her chest as she thinks of the green eyes that have captivated her lately, breathing shakily as the urge to stare into it at this very moment grows.
but she doesn’t know that in the next room over, the older boy feels the same way about her. technically, all her tossing and turning, fears of losing him over feelings that are slowly festering in her gut, are all for nothing. because if she got up right now and just laid it all out for him, he would be okay with it. he’d welcome it with open arms.
not knowing if he feels the same is what scares her the most.
a knock on the door makes her jump, sitting up dishevelled as she turns her attention to the door. she should be asleep for her classes tomorrow — which she would have been if logan hadn’t taken up every inch of space in her mind — so if that’s a test from her parents, it’s over for her.
“it’s us.”
she scrambles out of bed, keeping her footsteps soft to avoid the notion of announcing that she’s out of bed. when she opens the door, it’s come to her surprise that they’re wearing jackets and pants. oscar holds up his car keys with a small grin. “we’re hungry.”
“i’ve got classes tomorrow,” she says in a whisper as she avoids logan’s stare that’s boring holes into her skull.
logan shrugs. “and you’re still awake,” he’s the first to walk towards the stairs and beckons his two friends to follow him, “come on, we were craving ice cream. thank god you’re awake.”
she looks down at herself, in her pyjamas and then glances over at her friends with furrowed eyebrows. “i’m not dressed to head out. could you give me like 5 minutes to change at least?”
“no time for that,” oscar frowns, “do you wanna get caught?”
“besides, i brought an extra jacket for you. your mum would flip if she sees one of your jackets was used, no?” logan stops at the top of the stairs, holding up one of his smaller jackets in the air to show it to her. “i reckon we should get a move before your parents hear you out of bed, dude.”
she takes a deep breath, her gaze softening at the jacket that’s held in the air. it’s not that cold out, so she would definitely do without a jacket. but the thought of being wrapped in a jacket that belonged to logan — with his smell and the whole shebang — almost brings her to her knees. and going to sleep with his cologne all over her? it’s enough to make a typically emotionless woman cry.
“mate, do you wanna come or not?” oscar whispers, still towering over her at her door.
she nods, slowly closing the door behind her as she tries to run silently to the stairs where logan is. “does it smell like you? cause that would be kind of gross.”
a lie: she literally wants it to smell like him. just so she can have a sliver of what it feels like to be his.
“nope. that’s clean.” logan smiles proudly, holding up the jacket with both hands, opening it wide for her to wear it. while normally it would be an issue if it smelled like logan (which is why he took a fresh jacket out of his closet), it’s all she wants right now — to go to bed smelling like him to replace the emptiness of sleeping by herself.
she slots an arm into the jacket, thanking him softly as she feels her cheeks heat up at the gesture. and this is what it’s like suddenly overthinking every interaction she has with logan. did he always used to do this or is everything amplified by the thought of her heart suddenly beating for him?
did his actions always have this romantic intonation in them and she was too stupid to notice, or has it always been this way?
she freezes as logan circles her, pulling the jacket down her shoulders before he zips it up for her. he tugs on it gently and pats her shoulder. “warm enough? i’ve got a thicker jacket if you need one.”
she shakes her head, eyes wide as she looks up at him. he doesn’t seem to notice; turning towards the stairs to make their way to the car. oscar walks past them and shakes the keys as softly as he can. “let’s go. i’m starving.”
she watches the 2 boys walk down the stairs, frozen in the ground at their interaction. she sucks in a deep breath as she tries to process everything: the way he was so close to her and how his gesture was so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time.
“mate, let’s go,” oscar scolds, beckoning her from the bottom of the stairs. “i’ll leave you behind if you’re not down here in the next 15 seconds.”
“okay, be patient!” she squeaks, jumping from her spot to rush towards oscar.
by the door, logan keeps a tight grip on the front door as he can barely glance at her happily jumping down the steps. the sight fills his chest with such warmth that he’s never felt before and even forces a small smile on his face that he doesn’t notice.
the gesture with the jacket took everything of his soul to do. it would be crazy for her not to notice the way his hands shook as he zipped the jacket up for her, his breaths shaking as he stood inches away from her. it’s odd because they’ve spent so many years together yet there is this sudden shyness that he cannot seem to escape.
surely she’s starting to catch on as well, right?
he doesn’t even notice that she’s passed him, muttering ‘shotgun’ as she jogs over to the front seat of the car happily. oscar pats him on the shoulder and shoots him a mean glare to snap him out of his trance.
“if you’re going to be this obvious, i’d be more shocked that she hasn’t caught on yet,” oscar mutters with caution before walking out.
logan drags his feet out of the house, slumping his shoulders when he realises that he has to sit at the back. he just shrugs before oscar opens the door to the driver’s seat. “you and i both, dude.”
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“see you later, mate.” logan barely lands a pat on her shoulder before walking away, approaching frederik at the other end of the garage.
she looks at the shoulder that he didn’t even touch before her eyes follow the boy now jogging towards his friend. is she going insane or is logan avoiding her?
since they’d gone and grabbed food together 3 weeks ago, it’s been different. logan’s been speaking to her less, keeping conversations short and he barely even looks her in the eye. she can’t say there’s ever been a time that this has ever happened for this long.
she excused it for logan being busy initially, but 3 weeks is too long.
“hey, are you alright?” mick comes up behind her with a small smile and a hand on her back. “you’ve just been standing there for a good minute by yourself.”
“i’m… do you think i’m annoying?” she whispers, eyes wide as her brain goes at a rate it’s never gone before. she starts walking with mick and looks down, bracing herself for his answer.
“what? why would you say that?” he says softly, tilting his head. “did something happen? another reporter get on your nerves?”
she sighs, shaking her head. she looks over her shoulder again where logan walked off before and sighs again as she meets mick’s eyes momentarily. “no… i don’t know… i feel like oscar and logan are avoiding me.”
mick hums, looking around with eyebrows furrowed. surely she is just overthinking it, right? for as long as he’s known any of them, they’ve been inseparable. he can’t think of a time where either logan or oscar went without mentioning her once in a conversation.
it’s like their worlds revolved around her.
“i don’t know, mate,” mick slings an arm over her shoulder as they talk, “maybe just give it some time? it’s a busy weekend and you know they’re your best friends.”
she shrugs. “i guess you’re right. maybe they’re just busy.”
but she can’t just shake away the feeling of something not being right.
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“i’m gonna tell her.”
“are you stupid?”
“what? no.”
“then don’t tell her.”
logan puts his hands on his hips, chewing on the inside of his cheek. he stares at oscar with a bewildered expression. “why not?”
oscar mirrors his expression. how stupid can logan be right now? “if she doesn’t reciprocate, then what are you going to do? we literally live with her. tell me what you’re going to do when you tell her you’re in love with her and she doesn’t feel the same way.”
the american throws his hands into the air. “i’m not in love with her!”
“it doesn’t feel that way lately!”
“i have a small crush on her. doesn’t mean that i’m in love with her, okay? and in my head, if i tell her and she doesn’t feel the same way, then it’ll make it easier to move on.”
“babe, i– crush on who?” lily tilts her head, walking into the room with a curious stare. “logan has a crush on somebody? i swear i had this same conversation speculating just 5 minutes ago.”
oscar turns around wide-eyed at his girlfriend. “nobody.”
logan sighs. “oh, lily’s not stupid. you know who i have a crush on.”
the brit blinks blankly at the 2 boys in the room. “no, i don’t.” she tilts her head as she threads the room cautiously. “am i supposed to kn– no way.”
logan nods. “yes way.”
“and you knew this whole time and you’ve been lying to me?” lily shrieks, smacking oscar’s shoulder. “why didn’t you just tell me?”
“so you could tell her and mess up our dynamic? no way!” oscar scoffs, scratching his head in frustration. “listen, i actually like living in her big house with her family. and i actually also like being best friends with her — she’s nice to me.”
“she’s nice to me too,” logan points out.
“that’s different — you’re actually in love with her.”
“i’m not in love with her!”
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“you guys have got to start talking to her again,” lily mutters as she climbs into the backseat of oscar’s car. she inches forward and glances out at the window where the younger girl slowly walks over to them. “you’re killing her.”
logan turns around, shaking his leg as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “you’re asking too much of me!”
“i do talk to her!” oscar defends himself, throwing his hands into the air. “but i can’t keep a straight conversation with her without wanting to tell her that our best friend is in love with her!”
the urge to tell her gets worse every single time. she’s just blabbing on all the time oblivious to the fact that their best friend spends countless hours talking about how majestic she is.
“i’m not in love with her!” logan scolds, reaching out to smack oscar on the shoulder. he looks at lily and presses his lips together. “and i try to talk to her, okay? but it’s hard.”
and he really does, but she’s got this need for eye contact when she talks to people; it makes it all the harder not to start rambling about how she’s got him wrapped around her fingers currently. it’s just so unfair how she doesn’t know the effect that she’s got on him.
he can barely keep a conversation with her, his defences crumbling when their eyes meet, stuttering and losing his words. and for a guy like logan, feeling like this for someone is beyond his comprehension. it’s just not something he thinks he can get used to.
“well, you’ve got to keep it together! she’s been really upset lately!” lily mutters, smacking both of their shoulders.
logan sighs. “surely, it’s not that–”
the back door opens and the girl slides into her seat with a polite smile. “hi,” she greets them with a small nod. she doesn’t wait for a response before she puts her airpods in and starts to type away on her phone.
“i told you,” lily mouths to the two boys in the front seats, rolling her eyes as she sits back with her arms folded over her chest.
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her jaw drops slightly, eyes watering at the conversation she was definitely not meant to overhear. she steps away from the doorframe she hid behind and slumps her shoulders. "you what?"
the two boys, engaged in a whispering conversation just seconds ago, widen their eyes as they turn their heads to the source of the shocked voice.
she had fallen asleep on her couch as they played video games on the playstation, and they had to have a private conversation about logan’s lingering stares and silent pining.
immediately, logan starts stuttering and flailing his hands around to come up with an excuse for what she could have possibly heard. "i- i mean.. like-"
"the girl you fancy is me?" she asks slowly, then turning to oscar. "and you kept this a secret from me the entire time?"
"no, just let me explain, god," logan smacks his forehead, trying to calm the girl down. "will you listen to me for a second?"
oscar presses his lips together and drops his head in disappointment. "i couldn't tell you. don't be like that."
"you guys made me feel like i was going crazy thinking you didn't wanna be friends with me anymore," she complains, stomping her foot into the ground. "i felt like i didn't even know you guys so well in the past month. i felt like you guys were pushing me away."
"what? no, please just listen to me. this is all my fault."
"i thought you guys didn't even wanna be friends with me anymore. all of that to find out that it's because you just suddenly realised i'm cute?" she bursts, giving logan a look. "seriously? you didn't notice that years ago when we first met?"
oscar lifts his head, his look of disappointment quickly replaced by confusion. logan also drops his hands, head tilting at her response.
he had a list formed of possible ways she could react if his secret ever came out. this was not one of them.
"pardon?"
"we've been friends for so long growing up. you think that i never had a crazy puppy crush on either of you?" she scowls at them, wiping the few tears that managed to escape her eyes. "get a grip, my dudes!"
"what?" logan screams. "you're telling me i've been in over my head for literally nothing because you've had a crush on me too?"
"had?"
"you've got a crush on him right now? and me before?" oscar exclaims in disbelief, pointing at logan. "and we never knew? seriously?"
she shrugs, folding her arms over her chest with a smug smile. "i'm just better at keeping secrets compared to you guys, i guess."
she turns on her heel and walks out of the kitchen. “you’ll get over it. trust me. i’m actually in the process of getting over my crush on you, lo.”
but she’s never been more wrong about anything in her life.
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logan leans on his car, elbow propped on the roof of his car and chin in his palm. he taps away on his phone as he lazily enjoys the breeze of oxford while he waits.
“i thought you were going to be late?” she hums, tilting her head as she approaches him. she’s got his jacket around her shoulders and an eye squinted from the sun shining brightly above them. “i took all the time i could walking out of campus.”
he shrugs, pushing himself off the car and slips his phone into his pocket. “traffic cleared up a while back. where’s lily?”
she shrugs back at him with a soft giggle. she jogs over to him and wraps her arms around him momentarily before quickly pulling away. “thanks for picking me up, by the way.”
logan throws his head back with a snort, folding his arms over his chest. “did i have a choice?”
he knew better than to decline her wide eyes asking him to please pick him up from campus after an entire day of classes. that, and that fact that it’s just so difficult to say no to her when it came to things like this.
“very funny,” she laughs with a playful eye roll as she rounds the car to the other side. “lily has something on with another module. let’s head out to dinner, you and i?”
he grins and unlocks his car. “yep. let’s go.”
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"what's wrong?" worry paints her face as he starts acting calmer than before. her eyes follow logan's hands, lifted up to her face as he tries to brush back her stray hair behind her ears. "are you alright?"
"have i ever told you," he pauses to trace a line down her cheek with his fingertips, "how pretty you are?"
"only when you're drunk," she whispers back with a playful smile. "did you ingest some kind of poison and you've only got a couple minutes to live? is that why you're like this?"
"no," he shakes his head. a small smile appears on his face, tucking a finger under his chin to lift her eyes up to meet his. "i just think you look very pretty. i don't tell you that often."
she admits she almost felt her knees buckle at his words and melt on the ground at his words. logan had never been a very outwardly affectionate type unless he's drunk, so while this is expected behaviour out of him, it's never gotten quite as intimate as this.
she's had him fall asleep with his head in her lap before on the couch, but never has he been this close to her while whispering sweet words at her.
"it would be weird."
"it shouldn't be."
"logan, are you alright?"
he doesn't respond. and she freezes in her spot when his hand drags along her skin, cupping her cheek as he leans down into her. and he would have done it. he would have kissed her but something stops him.
it could’ve been the sheer reminder that they’re supposed to be just best friends. just that, nothing more and nothing less.
he stops himself right as their noses touch and sighs shakily, holding himself up with a hand on her arm. “i’m sorry.”
she lets out a soft sigh and forces a grin on her face. she grabs his shoulders to stabilise him, “do you need to throw up?”
“i think so,” he mutters with a hand on his chest. he turns to look at her with a heaving chest and puffy lips. “can you help me back to the villa please?”
she chuckles, approaching him with her arms held out. “okay, let’s get you back, mate.”
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she stands in front of the bedroom door, stuffed bear in hand with a soft huff as she awaits a response.
the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas and dishevelled hair. he blinks for a few moments before realising who’s standing at the door. “oh, hi.”
“i couldn’t sleep,” she sighs softly, pursing her lips and slouching slightly. “can i sleep in oscar’s bed?”
logan blinks. he tries to think of what oscar would say if he consulted the australian about what to say in response to her question.
his heart has a simple answer: yes, let her spend the night in your bedroom. but his mind, clearly going with logic, knows exactly the solution to avoid getting himself into deeper shit: maybe you shouldn’t let her because it will complicate things.
guess which answer logan chooses.
“yeah, of course.” logan takes a step back and beckons her into the room. “what’s wrong? nightmare? watched a horror movie all by yourself again and scared yourself?”
“yeah,” she grins sheepishly, climbing onto oscar’s bed.
lie. she couldn’t fall asleep at the thought of logan and her almost kissing a week ago on their trip to the bahamas. and since oscar’s not here to put a stop to their antics, she did the one thing she knows would put her to sleep, or at least to a calmer state of mind.
“oh, what did you watch?” logan giggles, closing the door behind him. “do you need me to turn the nightlight on again?”
she smiles, shaking her head. “just insidious. i got bored while i was doing my homework.”
“you should really start watching that with someone around,” logan sighs, walking over to his bed on the other side of the room. “you know how insidious gets you all jumpy and weird.”
“yeah, i barely made it to 20 minutes of the movie,” she laughs, sighing as she drops her back on the bed. she pulls the blankets up and tucks herself under them. “anyway, thanks for letting me sleep here tonight.”
“of course, dude.”
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logan finds himself at her university campus once more, leaning up against the side of his car as he awaits the girl to meet up with him.
he hears heels clicking against the gravel of the university parking lot, making him raise his head in anticipation with a wide grin.
“aw, happy birthday, dude!” logan cheers, opening his arms to the girl approaching him. “how were your classes?”
she sighs heavily, rolling her eyes. “horrid.”
“you left before oscar and i could make you pancakes for breakfast,” logan frowns, squeezing her slightly as she stumbles into his body. “we’re going to take you out for pancakes instead.”
“wow, pancakes for dinner?” she giggles with a hand on her chest. “how lovely.”
“and ice cream,” logan beams with a grin. he gently reaches forward to take her laptop into his hands along with the bag on her shoulder. “because it’s your birthday–”
“where’s my gift?” she teases, hopping forward to rest her chin on his arm. she looks up at him with puffed cheeks and wide eyes. “you promised me a present this year.”
logan blinks blankly at her. he looks at the way she’s cosied up into his body and then back into her eyes. “it’s with oscar.”
she blinks, taking a step back as she realises how close she’s gotten to him. “so you got me a present? how sweet of you, logan.”
“you threatened me to get you a present,” logan scoffs with a roll of his eyes. he starts laughing along with her, shoving her things into the backseat of his car. “as i was saying, because it’s your birthday, i’m giving you 2 options: to drive my car, or to not.”
he flashes her his car keys, dangling them high enough in the air for her to not reach them.
“i’m getting spoiled this year with options,” she laughs, jumping into the air to snatch the key out of logan’s hands. “i wouldn’t turn down the chance to drive your car and send you into cardiac arrest.”
she walks around logan to run over to the driver’s side of the car. “don’t forget to wear your seatbelt.”
“i wouldn’t ever dare if you’re the one driving.”
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gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @localwhoore @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo
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rustygem · 3 days
Note
hi do you take requests?
if you dont, feel free to ignore, but if you do..
imagine dr ratio having a wife/husband(reader), or lover whatever. they've been married for a long whike now on a really healthy relationship. reader is a opposite to ratio, a calm collected individual who doesn't lash out
but what happens when ratio became so stubborn the reader snaps and calls dr ratio by his full name? especially in front of people?
kinda want to know your perspective and jow you write this
(i love ut writing :3 its still okay to ignore though)
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彡prompt: you love dr. ratio, you do. but sometimes he can irritate the shit out of you.
彡warning(s): swearing. sorta angsty, but it’s somehow fluff. probably ooc! ratio?
彡notes: dividers by cafekitsune.
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Y’know, usually date nights with a loving partner are supposed to go well. And yours with Veritas did, but only until you two started having a back and forth on paying the tip.
“Veritas, please. It’s only 100 credits.” You pinched your temple. Seriously, the waitress was nice! She wasn’t too pushy, there wasn’t any attitude. One small tip wouldn’t hurt.
“What is there to tip the woman for? For doing her job right?” He crossed his legs. “Darling, you must understand that a waitress who isn’t unbearably contemptible isn’t one deserving of a tip.”
“For fucks sake…she’s gonna come over here in less than five minutes. If you don’t want to pay her, I will.” As soon as you took out your wallet, Veritas just shook his head.
You were endearing and your emotional intelligence was admirable. But for goodness sakes, you seemed just a little too insistent on spending extra credits for somebody just doing their job.
As if it was right on cue, you gave the waitress the bill, along with a 100 credit tip with a smile.
It wasn’t until you stopped the waitress from leaving to give her another 50 credits that Veritas just huffed and snatched the money out of your hands.
“Okay, that’s enough. She doesn’t need anymore money than you gave her.” He put your credits in his wallet, glaring at you. “Don’t be so careless with your credits.”
The nervous waitress looked at him, then at you. Her nerves only increased as she saw your eye twitch.
You raised your voice. “Veritas Ratio, quit being prudish and give her the credits!”
It wasn’t the yelling that made him recoil, it was the anger in your tone and voice. Frustration wasn’t new, but you were actually mad at him.
Noticing the eyes on you, your boyfriend, and the poor…poor waitress, your anger subsided.
“Uh…Please. Please give her the credits.” You spoke softly now, mumbling a softer ‘thanks’ as he handed her the money.
However, the waitress took a deep breath, and spoke up. “I can assure you 100 credits is more than enough for me. But thank you.” The waitress smiled at you and walked off with the check.
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You picked at your nails, lip quivering as you thought about what you should say to your boyfriend—who was several steps ahead of you.
Noticing this, he looked at you as he continued walking. “If you feel guilt–ridden because you think you’ve hurt my feelings, then banish the thought immediately.”
You rushed next to him, looking at him with lingering feelings of doubt and regret. “Yeah well, I’m sorry for yelling at you and making a scene.”
God, what’s wrong with me? You thought to yourself.
He frowned, watching tears brim your eyelashes. “It’s not like you weren’t provoked.” He sighed before continuing.
“But, in all honesty sweetheart, I thought you were being too benevolent like always.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you stared at your shoes.
“Though, your attempt at trying to put me in my place made me reconsider something.” He stopped, eyeing you.
“I considered you to be someone who’s too kind for their own good. That was one of the things I wanted you to work on.”
And you swear you saw him smile for a second. “But, you’re still capable of standing your ground, so perhaps I misjudged. Apologies.”
Embarrassed, you scratched your cheek. “That’s sweet of you, Ver–ow!”
He pinched your cheek with his fingertips. “Though, the next time you want to raise your voice at me, I’d prefer you do it in a more private setting.”
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⭒The Silent One⭒
Azriel x Fem!OC
⭒ Part 1 ⭒ Part 2 ⭒ Part 3 ⭒
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Azriel finds the guy that sold Cassandra. Lots of bonding happens with Cassandra, Azriel and other members of the IC. Slight cliffhanger.
Warnings/Tags: mentions/implied rape. Mention past sexual abuse. Slow burn. Violence. Brief victim blaming. Found family. Protective!azriel. Protective!IC. GRAMMER ERRORS—I plan on going back to edit this please don’t judge me too hard I’m gonna have a busy week and just really wanted to get this posted for y’all🩷
Authors Note: all reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter. Regular italics are inner thoughts and bold italics are mental communication.
Azriel stands in the darkness of night watching. Waiting. Body thrumming with anger. Calm cold anger. The kind that got people killed if they didn’t give him what he was looking for.
Only moments after Cassandra’s departure had his shadow returned to him. Telling him where to find this Vale. This horrid male who was taking females away from their family and selling them off—profiting off of them like livestock.
He sees the male, recognizes him from the briefs flash of memory Cassandra let slip at dinner, the one where this mad had choked her, slammed her against the wall just for needing to use the restroom.
The male is loading something up in the back of a wagon, the building behind him dark and dingy. Azriel let his shadows take him closer. Closer. Until he was standing in the alley between this man's house and another. The smell was horrid, small creatures scurrying about looking for their meal for the evening.
The male retreats into the building and Azriel lets a shadow loose to follow him—to be his eyes inside of this building. Inside is just as dark and dingy and piled high to the roof with…stuff. The blue skinned male navigates the maze of boxes and bins and trash with ease. He seems to be the only one here but Azriel knew better so he waits following the man through the seemingly endless maze.
That’s when he hears it, his shoulders going tight, his jaw clenching. Crying—no sobbing. A girl begging to be left alone as the male grabs her and pins her down to the floor.
“Fuck,” he growls. He pounds his fist against the outside of the building, taking chucks of the stone out. It’s loud enough to distract the man, to get him away from that girl as he rushed from the room under the floor, locking the locks and coming out. Looking around wildly for the source of the sound.
Azriel winnows, leaning against the wagon the man had been loading before, whistling to get the man attention. He whirls around, black eyes narrowed in anger, freezing in place when they land on him.
“Shadowsinger?” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at Azriel. “What brings you to these parts?”
Azriel looks him over, the smell of shit, piss and rot was overwhelming even from this distance.
“Vale,” Azriel says, to let the male know he knows who he is, rightfully see the fear in his eyes. “I’m looking for something and I hear you’re the one to help me.”
“I ain’t got nothing you need, pretty boy,” Vale sneers, crossing his arms, looking Azriel over. Trying to come off as tough but it’s actually laugh-able.
“Are you sure?” Azriel asks, pushing off the wagon. Letting his wings spread wide, walking closer, towering over the male. “See, I’ve got this female telling me you bought her from her dad and sold her to a pleasure house. I mean, tell me I’m wrong, man. I’ve just gotta check on these things. It’s a pretty serious accusation and all.”
“That chick’s got the wrong guy. I would never do something like that. These bitches are always trying to get us males in trouble,” Vale said, seeming to relax. Big mistake.
“You think so? Just tell me if you know her man. About this tall, really pretty, tan skin, white hair. Wings.” Azriel growls the last word, the man’s eyes widening again, taking a step back.
“Look, man, it’s not like that. Her dad owed me money, so he gave me her instead cause he couldn’t afford to pay me back, okay? So I didn’t technically buy her,” He stammered out, trying to explain himself.
“Oh,” Azriel said, nodding his head. “Well, I mean, if you didn’t technically buy her then no law was broken.”
“That’s right!” The male nods, sighing in relief. “No law was broken, man. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t do that—”
“Yeah. I get it,” Azriel nods, shifting. Looking towards the building, then back to the low life in front of him. “And that female inside? Did you buy her? Is she here of her own free will allowing you to rape her daily?”
“Fuck,” Vale whispers, turning and running down the cobble stone road. Azriel stands there watching, a grin stretching his lips as he lets the male think he’s getting away.
“Send Morrigan,” He calls out to Rhys as he watches the male.
“She’s coming.”
Then he's gone again, just as Vale looks over his shoulder to try and spot him, only to smack hard into a body that came out of nowhere. He looks at the shadowsinger towering over him, swallowing thickly.
“What do you want from me?” The male nearly cried out as Azriel grabbed him and pulled him up, slamming his face first into a stone wall. The resounding crunch of his nose breaking is ever satisfying.
“Her name is Cassandra,” Azriel snarls into the man's ear. “She told us what you did to her. What you did to that female you have locked in that disgusting building. We know there’s more girls. We will find them all and when we do, I’ll let each one take a turn with you. Their weapon of choice. And you’ll feel exactly what they felt.”
“Ple-please. Please, just kill me,” The man begged, fighting in Azriel’s grasp but he was no match for Azriel’s strength.
“And what kind of justice would that be? Did you stop when those girls begged you to? Did you give them death with they would have preferred that over you using their bodies?” Azriel asked, scenting the smell of urine as the man pissed himself. “You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you.”
Before the pathetic excuse of a male could beg or plead any more Azriel grabbed the back of his head, smashing it into the wall, letting him fall unconscious to the ground. He left him there binded and hidden by shadows, stalking back to the building where he spotted Morrigan easily.
“Don’t tell me this is where he’s been keeping those poor girl?” She asked when she spotted him approaching.
“Unfortunately, I think it is. She said under his house but he could live here. I’ll question him more. I know there’s at least one female inside,” Azriel explained, guiding Morrigan into the building. Be could get the female on his own but he knew it was safer to have a female companion—after all they’d been through the least he could do was make sure a female was the one to comfort them.
They get to that basement floor, unlocking the various locks and pulling the hatch open. It’s as dark and dingy down here as it was in the rest of the building. Morrigan enters first, taking Azriel’s hand to steady herself on the old wobbly stairs.
“Your wings won’t fit down here,” She said, hushed. He nods at her. “Send a shadow if I call for help.” It’s said jokingly but he knows she’s serious. He’d rip the floor from this building to help her if she needed it.
Mor squinted her eyes in the dimness of the sellar, resisting the urge to plug her nose from the horrid smell.
“Hello? Is anyone down here?” She calls out, looking up from at Azriel when there’s no reply. “Hello, my name is Morrigan. I work for the High Lord. The male keeping you here is—”
Morrigan’s cut off when I body slams into hers, knocking her to the ground. She cries out in surprise when a sharp sting slices across her cheek.
“Stop, hey, stop! I’m here to help!” Mor calls out, trying to catch the hands of the female fae on top of her.
“Mor!” Azriel’s deep voice calls.
“I’ve got it!” Mor calls back, grabbing the girls wrists. “Please, stop! Vale is gone! He can’t hurt you, please, stop!”
The girl stops fighting then still tense where she’s straddling Morrigan’s middle section.
“He’s gone?” She whispers and Mor nods.
“Yes, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more. I swear,” She promises. Eyes finally able to take in the sight before her.
A fragile, naked, malnourished body sits atop her. Eyes not only shut but scarred as if they’d been cut—maybe by the same person that took Cassandra’s tongue. But what really got Morrigan, what had her ready to lose the contents of her stomach was the rounded belly attached to that nearly skeleton body. Her eyes welled and she helped the female to shift off of her body.
“Are you pregnant?” Mor whispers, trying to keep her voice from breaking as the female nods.
“Please, don’t let him take this one too,” She cries, reaching out to find Morrigan’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me I get to keep my baby.”
“I promise, no one is going to take your baby away from you,” Morgan swears, a single tear falling down her cheek. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”
“Neema, my name is Neema,” She answers and Mors eyes widen. The girl Cassandra told them about.
“You and your baby are safe, Neema. We’re gonna take you away from here, okay?” Morrigan says, standing and helping the pregnant female stand as well.
“I have my friend Azriel here too, he will not touch you, he’s only here to make sure no further harm comes to you. He’s handing me a cloak for you to wear,” Morrigan explains so the female doesn’t feel uncomfortable. She nods, allowing Mor to wrap the cloak around her.
“Are there any other females here?” Azriel asks gently, wishing he hadn’t with the way she clenched at the deep mess of it.
“Not—not that I know of. The females come and go. There’s been no others for months…” Neema answers, grasping the fabric tighter around her body.
Azriel and Mor share a look the last females had to have been Cassandra and the other two she mentioned.
“I’ll stay and check the building before I head back,” Azriel informed, consciously softening his voice so as not to scare the female again.
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
Morrigan winnows away with Neema and Azriel searches every inch of the building with his shadows. No signs of any other females. He leaves the building, needing to relieve himself of the horrible stench.
He retrieves the still bound and unconscious male, winnowing him to his dungeon. He strips him, places a gag in his mouth, dumps him into a chair and binds him to it. He would be dealt with later.
The sun would be rising soon and he wanted to be there when they informed Cassandra they found the male and the female—her friend?
He enters Rhys' study, Cassian and Mor there too.
“How is she?” He asks, glancing at Morrigan then his brother.
“Resting,” Rhys answers. “Madja looked her over. Thankfully the baby seems healthy, Madja’s main concern is getting Neema to gain some weight and begin healing herself.”
“We offered her to live amongst the priestesses in the library, she agreed,” Morrigan said, her brown eyes bloodshot and cheeks flushed.
“Good, that’s all good, they’ll help her heal,” Azriel nods his head crossing his arms. “I have the male in my dungeon.”
“Have you gotten any information out of him?” Rhys asks, standing from his desk.
“Not much. He admitted to knowing who Cassandra was, receiving her from her father and holding her. He never admitted to selling her but that information won’t be hard to get out of him,” Azriel explains and Rhys nods in agreement.
“You get whatever information you can out of him and then he’s dead,” Rhys orders, Azriel doesn’t need to confirm he already knew what Rhys decision would be.
“Are we telling Cassandra?” Cassian asks, the first words he’s said the whole time.
“We are. She needs to know he’s here, it may bring her some comfort knowing he’s locked away and Neema is safe. I think you should be the one to talk to her, Azriel,” Rhy says, turning his attention to the shadow singer.
“Me? Not Mor?” Azriel asked, a bit confused.
“Yes, you. She’s comfortable with you. You’re the one that apprehended him. I believe she would prefer to hear it from you,” Rhys nods.
“Okay, I can do that,” Azriel agreed.
“You handle that, I’ve got some business to attend to with the priestesses. We’ll all meet up in a few hours to discuss further action.” Rhys stepped around his desk, patting Azriel’s shoulder when he passed by him.
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
An hour goes by before Azriel tracks Cassandra down. Finding her in the library, flipping through a book where she’s sat in the large window seat that overlooked the city below. A steaming cup of tea next to her.
“I thought you couldn’t read?” Azriel asks, leaning against the door frame, grinning when those green eyes meet his.
“I can’t. I’m looking at the pictures,” She said, holding up the book, some romance book from the looks of the two people in a colorful garden.
“Ah,” Azriel says, walking further into the room. Trying not to focus on the way her eyes track up and down his body the closer he gets. He holds his hand out for the book, flipping it over the read the title, snorting at it. “Secret Garden Romance, huh?”
She shrugs, taking the book back.
“I asked the house for a book with a lot of pictures, this is what I got,” She said, a small sweet breathy laugh escaped her lips and he couldn’t help his own smile.
“Did you end up getting some sleep?” He asks, watching her set the book down and grab the warm mug.
“I slept but not great,” She shrugs. “I can’t stop thinking about my sisters.”
“We’re gonna do everything we can to find them, I promise you that,” Azriel said, not even waiting for a beat. He would find her sisters and he’d beat the shit out of her father too.
“You know I took my older sister's place. It was supposed to be her he sold off but the way she had cried when he told her. I couldn’t let him do that to her so I told him to take me…I didn’t really know what he meant when he was selling me. I thought I’d be a servant like the ones we had when I was a kid or something. I never thought…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath.
“You’re not to blame for what happened to you. You were protecting your sister. You did a very selfless thing. You're safe now and your sisters will be, too,” Azriel said, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards her.
“Well, what about you?” Cassandra asked, gently changing the subject. “Did you ever get any sleep?”
Azriel sighed with a head shake. “No, actually. That’s kind of why I came to talk to you.”
Cassandra fixed him with a curious look, leaning forward as if to give him her full attention for whatever he needed to say. He looked into those glowing green eyes, filled with curious concern.
“We found that male. Vale. We found him,” Azriel said, watching the vast range of emotions flash through those emerald eyes.
“He’s here?” Is what she asks, fear tinging her voice. Azriel straightens his back.
“He will not touch you,” he declared, holding her gaze. “He won’t even come near you.”
I’ll fucking kill him if he does. He thinks but doesn’t add it out loud.
“He can’t get out of…wherever he is?” She asks, and he wants to reach out so badly to comfort her. The ache in his chest drawing him to her.
“No. He’s being held in a very secure place. I promise you’re safe here. You’re safe with us.” Azriel promises. You’re safe with me.
“Were there any females with him?” She asks and Azriel nods.
“The girl you told us about, Neema. She was the only one there—it had been only her for months.”
He watches as her eyes fill with tears, offering his hand for her to hold. She takes it, thumb tracing his scars unconsciously.
“Just her…alone with him for months. Gods, is she…I feel like okay isn’t the right word for what I want to ask,” She says, sadness written all over her face.
“She will be okay,” Azriel said. “She’s in bad shape. Pregnant, malnourished but we have an amazing healer and a library below the mountain. Many priestesses live there. Many of them have experienced similar traumas. They’ll help her heal.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn’t sure what was going through her head as she sat there silently, grasping his hand and tracing his scars.
“I want him to die.” It’s fierce. Heated. Emotional. And it does something to Azriel’s heart, to his brain. He squeezes her hand. “I want him to feel everything we felt. To know the fear he put us through. I want him to suffer and then I want him to die.”
“He will die. I swear to the Mother. I’ll get every drop of information from him and when it’s time his death will be painful and slow,” Azriel swore, gently swiping a tear from her cheek.
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
The next day is a day Cassandra would remember forever. She hadn't slept much the night before but Morrigan had practically begged her to have lunch.
Cassandra wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for a day out in the city but she felt safe with Morrigan. She nearly asked if Azriel could come too until she learned he would be spending the day collecting information from Kamari and Vale.
Morrigan picked out her outfit for the day and it was one of her favorites she’s worn since being here. A flowy silk top that tucked into a dark pair of slacks that raised high on my hips. They emphasized her longer legs in a way she had never noticed before. She had also pinned Cassandra’s hair up and out of her face.
She liked the way Azriel smiled at her when he saw her dressed this way. She blushed but was quickly rushed away by Morrigan, shouting something about wanting you to herself for the day for girl time.
Their first stop was a place she called the River House. A beautiful home that her mother would have loved. Morrigan had only had them stop here briefly to grab a few tote bags, wanting to shop while they were out but promised to bring her back and give her a proper tour of the house.
The city was even more beautiful when you were in it. The sun was shining bright in an endless blue sky. Better than any dreams she had ever had about it.
They went to bakeries, where Cassandra single handedly filled half a tote with various pastries.
Then a clothing shop where Morrigan helped her pick out some new clothes. A few everyday pieces. A gorgeous gown she wasn’t sure where she would wear it but Morrigan swore she would need it sooner or later. And then the softest, satin, dark blue nightgown—it had reminded her of the stones that glowed atop Azriel’s hands. Morrigan herself had picked out quite a few outfits and gowns of her own and a lace set that looked like something the girls in the pleasure houses would wear but she paid no mind to it—she was sure it would look gorgeous on Morrigan wherever she planned to wear it to.
Then they went to a place near the river for lunch, the glistening river was the perfect view while they ate.
“Do you feel like you’re settling in okay?” Morrigan asked, sipping on some kind of iced fruit tea while they waited for their food.
“I’m still…adjusting. I enjoy the company of everyone. I feel like I can trust you all. It’s just odd.” Cassandra says, taking a drink of her tea that was just slightly too sweet but she wasn’t complaining.
“What’s odd?” Morrigan asks gently.
“Trusting strangers more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else,” She says it like a confession, like she should be ashamed for feeling that way.
“I don’t think that’s odd,” Morrigan shrugged. “You’re around people like you, people you can relate to and get to know. It’s easy to feel safe with us in turn, causing your trust. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Cassandra smiles at Morrigan.
Their food comes soon after and they talk the whole time. Morrigan gives her the rundown of how Rhys, Azriel and Cassian all knew one another. She explained more about their titles and what each one of them did as a member of the inner circle. She told her about so much that Cassandra could believe she’d spent her whole live knowing practically none of it.
When they go to a bookstore Cassandra looks at a few before putting them back. Morrigan grabs them and tells her they’ll teach her to read—that she’ll love these books and so many more.
And when they finally get back to the House of a Wind it’s late. She's exhausted from carrying around nearly overflowing tote bags and eating more muffins then she can count.
A top the house where they have to land they’re greeted by the three males. Their solemn faces wiping the smile off your face. She caught Azriel’s eyes, sees the look of pure death there—a look that she just knows means he wants to kill someone.
And just like that, her perfect day with Morrigan took a turn straight down hill.
Tag List: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94 @purple-writer8 @little-missbookyworm @saltedcoffeescotch @namelesssav @slytherintaco @whatsupb
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Text
Called to Duty 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You’re tired. You’re always tired these days, but you gotta do what you gotta do. That’s going to be your life from now on. Not what you want, but what you need.  
You wait in line at the grocery store. Their in-store sourdough isn’t as good as the bakery but you can’t spare the extra dollars. You have your essentials; chicken, rice, some broth for those days when you can’t quite keep solid food down. Some fruits too for the mornings, and a sneaky pack of cookies. 
The woman behind the counter packs up here bag. She rubs her hip as you swipe your card, as if she can feel your pain. You suppose she has few aches and pains from years of standing behind that till. She hands you your receipt and asks if you need help. It’s two bags, nothing too heavy. You slide them into the rolling bag you dragged down with you and head out. 
You’re almost breathless as you get through the front doors. You get dizzy spells but the doctor says it’s just a dip in your blood pressure. You sit on a bench outside the grocery store and rub your stomach as you wait for it to pass. 
As you close your eyes against the springtime sunlight, a familiar tone nestles behind your ear. The timbre sends a shiver up your spine and your hug your middle out of instinct. You don’t look over as Thor’s rolling baritone wafts through the air. 
You stand and pull your bag in the other direction, as fast as you can. The wheels hit a line in the pavement and twists, the handle falling from your hand. It clatters to the ground and you hurried scramble to pick it back up as an apple rolls close to the top. You squat halfway and lift the handle, glancing over as silence pervades. 
Your eyes meet his and you cringe. You quickly turn away as he pulls the phone away from his ear and tilts his head. You touch your stomach again. Did he notice? Did he care? He hadn’t before. 
“Eh, been a while, kitten,” he purrs after you as his footfalls quickly descend, “where are you off to?” 
You ignore him, turning towards the curb as you look up and down the street. You need to get out of here. He stands beside you and you flinch as he puts his hand on your lower back. 
“Why’re you running away?” He says. 
You scoff, “don’t tell me I’m the one running away.” 
You drop your arm and drag the bag off the curb and across the street, as quickly as you can move yourself. You know he’s following. You know him better than he thinks you do. You turn down towards the pharmacy. 
“You look good. Healthy,” he remarks, “you’ve... filled out.” 
“Get away from me,” you hiss. 
“Don’t be rude. I’m just checking in on you, as any good person should.” 
You stop short and face him defiantly. His cheek dimples and reflects a memory back at you. The day you told him. The day he asked who you thought the father was. The day he shrugged off his responsibility on the back of rumours. 
‘Couldn’t possibly be mine. How could you know for sure? How could anyone?’ 
That grin. That taunting grin. 
“You shouldn’t be worried about being a good person, you should be a good father,” you sneer, a crack in your voice. “And you are neither.” 
He laughs, “you always were dramatic, kitten, but the way you meow for me... I hear the hormones make you wild--” 
He reaches to touch your cheek and you swat him away, “don’t.” 
“One last time, for old time’s sake,” he coaxes. 
“You are so gross,” you snip. 
“You can’t be mad at me because you opened your legs--” 
You push him. Stupidly. You shove him in the stomach with one hand. He barely reacts as you turn and stomp away with your groceries rolling at your heels. 
Your eyes sear hotly as you swallow back the protest. It was only him. There was no other possibility. No one believes. Who knows who she slept with? She was always down at the bar, wasn’t she? 
“I miss those claws, kitten,” he calls after you. 
You grit your teeth and storm towards the brick facade of the pharmacy. You shake as you try to fish out your keys. You let go of the rolling bag in frustrating as you dig down in your purse. The cart falls over again and your keyring jangles out onto the pavement with it. 
You let out a grunt and stand, staring at the catastrophe as the apple rolls out of the bag. You lower your head and steel yourself for the reach. Even at four months, with just a bit of belly, everything is so uncomfortable. 
A thick hand scoops up the keys then the apple. Sy hooks two fingers around the handle of the bag and stands. You look at him, lip quivering, and quickly bat away your tears. You dab your eyes with your knuckles. 
“Here,” he stands the bag up and drop the apple inside, then holds out your keys. 
You sigh, “you.” 
He frowns as you take the keyring, “me? I was only helping--” 
“Yeah, because you feel bad for me. Please,” you shove your keys in the door, “don’t.” 
“Feel bad? No. That’s not why... I... people should help each other. Especially those in need.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I need to close my legs. I need to figure it out,” you huff and pull the bag through the door and shove it through, “thanks. I’m good.” You take a step inside and stop, angling back to him, “you forgot your stuff at the pharmacy. They’re holding it at customer service--” 
“It’s yours--” 
“Stop,” you put a hand up, “okay? Just stop. You can go get your money back then.” 
His thick brows draw together and he grazes his hand over his buzzed hair, “I saw you talking to Thor.” 
You snort, “yeah, I ran into your buddy. So what?” 
He crosses his arms and shifts his stance, his works boots dragging loudly, “you’re mad at him.” 
You close your eyes and suck in a breath, “I don’t want to talk about this, especially with you. Fine, go back to him, tell him how pathetic I am--” 
“Why would I do that?” He sounds genuinely confused. 
“I’m not stupid. You were always down at The Horn together. Whatever this is, I’m not falling for it.” 
He squints then looks past you. Your turn and inch the door towards the frame. He steps forward and slaps a hand against the other side, holding it open. 
“He is not a man or a friend if he’s done this to you,” he says. You arch a brow as his blue eyes meet yours, “you deserve better.” 
He eases the tension in his arm as you lean on the door. He lets it snap shut and you wince at the click. You grasp the latch but don’t turn it as you listen through the wood. The friction of his hand drags down the wood. 
“I will give you better,” you barely make out his mutters as the tread of his boot scrapes on the pavement. You twist the lock and fall back against the wall. What is he doing? It has to be a trick. It has to.
108 notes · View notes
headkiss · 7 hours
Note
I LOVE YOUR HOTCH FICS!!! <3 You write him so well, and I just adore how soft he is 🥺! I've read a fic where the author basically describes him as a Jane Austen hero, and I can't help but agree (what are you thoughts?)! Sooooo, is it possible to get a fic where Hotch reads to sick!reader to help her sleep? TYSM!
omg ur so right he is very much jane austen coded!!! tysm for requesting i hope u like it!!! | 0.7k of fluff, sick reader and gentle hotch <3
Aaron’s job isn’t one that allows him to take much time off of work, even when he wants to. You know it, and would never be angry at him for it, so when you wake up feeling a little too warm, you reassure him that you’ll be fine by yourself.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” He asks, already dressed in his suit and sitting on the edge of the bed by your waist. “I can if you want me to.”
Of course the only time he’d be eager to ask for a day off is when it’s in your favor. He doesn’t even call out when he’s the one who’s sick.
“No, you can’t, Aaron. They need you over there,” you say, hoping your smile is convincing enough. “I’m just gonna sleep this off. I’ll be fine.”
He sighs, reluctant to leave even though he sort of has to, even though he knows you can take care of yourself. He just hates not being the one to do so, anyways.
Hotch leans over to press a kiss to your heated cheek, “I’ll call you when I can to check in, okay?”
“You really don’t have to-”
“Let me do that, at least, sweetheart.”
“Okay.”
He kisses your cheek again and then stands to leave, pausing at the bedroom doorway to turn back and look at you one more time. You snake your hand out from under the sheets and give him a thumbs up.
Aaron calls you exactly five times throughout the day, most of them quick, couple-minute phone calls where he asks how you’re doing, if you’ve eaten. One of them during his lunch—which he rarely takes—and lasting nearly half an hour, him doing most of the talking.
The sun is close to setting by the time he gets home, where Aaron finds you curled up on the couch in the comforter from your bed, your skin clammy, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead.
His heart aches a little bit at the sight, because he knows you’ve been downplaying how sick you feel all day to keep him from worrying, as if anything could.
Hotch walks over to the couch, crouching in front of where your head is propped up on a pillow. “Sweetheart.”
“Hi, Aaron.”
He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning at how warm you feel. “Why didn’t you tell me you have a fever? You should be in bed.”
“Got too warm in there, then too cold out here, so I took the comforter. Hope that’s okay.”
The medicine you took hours ago hasn’t done much other than make you a little groggy, and it’s clear in the way you speak with your cheek still squished to the pillow, your eyelids heavy.
Aaron’s hand is still on your forehead, like he can will your fever away with his touch. “Have you slept? Are you hungry?”
You shake your head, “don’t really feel like eating.”
“You should,” he says. “How about I run you a bath and make you some soup? Then bed.”
“Okay, doctor Hotchner.”
He shakes his head, though the small smile on your face as you tease him makes him smile, too. Even feeling poorly, you manage to brighten his day. A ray of sunshine.
He does exactly as promised, and after a bath and a generous bowl of soup that Hotch made sure you finished, you’ve got your head in his lap, his hand gently pushing your hair back.
Looking down, Aaron finds you still awake, blinking up at him lazily. “Aren’t you tired?”
“It’s been hard to sleep,” you say, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “Will you read to me?”
“Sure, sweetheart. Pick a book.”
You choose, and whine when he gets up to go get it even though he’s back in a matter of seconds. With your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh once again, he starts reading to you.
You’ve always loved Aaron’s voice, the way it sounds when he speaks to you, the low and calm tone that seems to wash over you. He’s using a gentle voice now, a quiet one that you love even more because it’s one he saves for you. Intimate and lovely.
It’s only with his hand in your hair and his voice in your ears that you’re finally able to fall asleep.
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In sickness and In Health || Logan Sargent
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Not my photos but God damn he is looking fine)
Cutie lil Logie bear fluff because I am sick as fuck and it was needed.
Quick as hell write because I’m on day 3 of a migraine. So it’s a short one.
Requested: yeah by me
Pairing: Logan Sargent x Reader
Warnings: slushy gushy fluff because I’m sad okay(??) ever so slight innuendo.
“Please don’t turn on that light” you groaned shoving your head further into the pillow as you heard shuffling footsteps enter the room.
“I wasn’t planning on” Logan’s soft voice filled the room as you felt his weight sit next to you on the bed, his hand coming to stroke your hair. “I brought you some water baby, how’s the head?”
“I’ve never had any complaints yet” you manage to mutter as your usual joking self. You’d had the worst headache for the past 3 days and all you wanted to do was lie in bed and rot. Today was Logan’s first day back between Japan and China and you wanted to make his welcome home special but you hadn’t even made it to the airport to pick him up.
“I swear you don’t have a serious bone in your body, even when you’re sick” he smiled, tucking your hair behind your ears and revealing your puffy eyes and swollen face.
“Oh god don’t look at me, I look horrendous” you groaned, lightly shaking your head free from his fingertips.
“Like hell you do, you’re still the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on” he whispered, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.
“You should be out enjoying your time home with your friends, not lead in the dark with me” you whined, cuddling into his arms.
“Nah, in sickness and in health baby, I’d always rather be with you” he said sinking down into bed next you, “plus I missed you way too much to be away for another second” pushing his lips onto yours and playing with your hair as you drifted back off to sleep.
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moonstruckme · 3 days
Note
feels odd being a marauder fan asking for tasm Peter content but i couldnt help myself <//3 if ur still taking requests id love to see ur take on Peter and the art students meet cute (or not so cute meeting) I always wondered how two vastly different people would even meet lol
Thanks for requesting gorgeous!
cw: mention of animal cruelty (not present in the story)
tasm!Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 831 words
Peter wonders if he should put on his mask. 
He’s not really sure what the protocol is for non-mutant criminal activity that makes its way into his daily life. But he’d only been trying to lock up the lab for the night, and there you are, spray painting all over the glass panes dividing the workspaces. 
“Hey!” He decides to forgo the mask when you direct your can scary close to a container of samples. “Don’t do that, you’ll ruin them.” 
You turn slowly, tense all over. It’s a look Peter’s not unfamiliar with; fight and flight are warring in your nervous system. You’ve been caught. 
“No one’s still supposed to be here,” you say, voice muffled slightly by the painter’s mask covering your nose and mouth. 
A laugh bubbles out of him. “Oh, my bad. Sorry—actually, since I’m clearly the one breaking the rules, I’ll just go.” 
You remain frozen in place, seemingly waiting to see if he’s actually joking or not. Peter’s not sure what to do. He can’t just…let you continue to destroy the lab, but calling the cops has never been his MO. He crosses his arms and leans back against a table, doing his best to look in control. 
“What are you even doing?” he asks. 
“It’s…” You look around you as if you’d forgotten, to the glass now dripping gorily with red paint. “It’s about animal cruelty. It’s a protest. Do you have any idea,” you say, your voice picking up conviction as you speak, “how many animals die in these labs every day?” 
Peter blinks. “Not really.” It feels shitty to say, but it’s not like he’s around for every class and project that happens here every day; something like that would be impossible to keep track of. 
Your eyes flash. “Too many.”
“So, what?” He looks around, at the red dribbling down the glass panes—blood, that’s what it is—and your paint-spritzed overalls. “You make some maintenance worker have to clean this up tomorrow morning, and then the science department will decide to stop?” 
Your eyebrows bunch. You hadn’t thought of that. “I just want to bring attention to it,” you say. “I’ll come back and clean up if I need to, but I just—I think it’s important that people see it. That they can’t just keep ignoring it.” 
Peter frowns, bending to pick up one of the paint canisters stacked neatly by a backpack. He gives it a little shake, and this one’s still full, the pile it came from larger than the matching one of used-up cans by your feet. Your eyes track his movements, too smart to try and take it from him but attentive nonetheless. You’re watching him with this flaming intensity. There’s something quietly passionate about you, like you’re burning with an energy that would be almost frightening if it didn’t seem so heartfelt. 
“You realize there’s cameras all over this place, right?” he asks. “You could get kicked out of school. This is vandalism.” 
You don’t flinch. “It’s uncommissioned public art.” 
“You think they’ll see it that way?” 
You sigh heavily, and Peter wishes he could see what was going on behind that mask so he’d know what you were thinking. Thankfully for him, your eyes are expressive enough. They narrow as you cross your arms, jutting out a hip. 
“So what, are you going to go and tell someone?” 
Peter sizes you up. He can relate to feeling like you need to work outside of the system to get something done. To being sick of going to the proper authorities after being told too many times that while they really do care, they won’t do anything about it.
“How about this,” he says. “You let me stay here and make sure you don’t damage any of the equipment, and I won’t rat you out.” He might even scrub the camera footage once you go. But he’s still figuring you out, so he doesn’t want to make promises. 
“Deal,” you say immediately. If you’re surprised at his bargain, you don’t show it, only shaking the paint canister in your hand and starting to spray another layer of paint onto the glass. Your brows pinch slightly as you work, evidence of an assiduous concentration Peter is familiar with. 
He makes himself comfy in a rolling chair, sitting back to watch you work. “We actually do some really important stuff here, you know.” 
“I’m sure you do,” you say without pausing. “It’s not like I blame everyone you personally. I get that the research helps people, but, I mean, at what cost?” 
Peter shrugs. It’s a good point. “True. It’s a lot worse for animals in the big labs. We’re small-scale because we’re funded by the school, and we’re also responsible for reporting to the higher-ups.” 
“I know.” Your eyes flit to him, less wary than before. “But I don’t have access to one of the big labs. Change has to start somewhere, right?” 
You can certainly agree on that. 
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wipbigbang · 1 day
Text
2024 WIP Big Bang Schedule & FAQ!
Schedule
All times are by 11:59pm PST. Convert time zones.
Sign-ups Begin- April 15th Sign-ups Close- May 21st Check In #1- May 22nd Check In #2- June 15th Snippets Due- July 1st Art Claims Begin- July 17th Check In #3- July 22nd Check In #4- August 6th Rough Drafts Due- August 15th Posting Claims Begin- August 23rd Posting Claims Ends- September 1st Final Drafts/Art Due- September 7th Posting Starts- September 8th
FAQ
What is the WIP Big Bang? Good question! This is a Big Bang with one goal in mind: to clean out your fanfic drafts folder. These are stories that were unfinished for whatever reason, that authors returned to and completed, and the art that goes with them!
Do I need a Livejournal/Dreamwidth/AO3/etc. account to participate? No! You don’t have to have an account on anything to participate, though you will need to have somewhere to post your finished work. Having one or more accounts will help for you to follow what is going on with the bang (we crosspost to Dreamwidth and Tumblr and heavily use our Discord server at the moment), but they are not required to participate. You can always leave comments anonymously or with an opensource ID.
How many fics can we sign up for? We absolutely don’t mind multiple sign-ups. I know one year someone submitted 50 fics to finish, and got at least half of them done. We just ask that when you sign up with more than one fic you give each fic a unique user ID (please do not use the same ID for all your fics...it’s important to have different IDs for the check-ins).
Will I get emails about the bang? We do send out some emails, mostly for snippets and art claims and to ensure communication between authors and artists, but please do NOT rely on getting an email to remind you of due dates. We currently do not keep an updated email list of participants, so we only send individual emails as needed rather than mass emails.
However, email is the fastest way to communicate with the mods. If you have any questions or are having trouble communicating with your artist/author, please do email us! We will do our best to respond quickly.
What do you mean by minimum word count to enter? This is a WIP Big Bang, therefore we ask you to have at least 500 words of your story drafted when you enter.
Can an outline count towards those first 500 words that are needed at sign up? We have admitted work on an outline before so yes, if your outline is fleshed out enough to cover a 7,500 word+ fic, we’ll allow it.
Are multi-chapter fics allowed? Yes, multi-chapter fics are allowed and even more so encouraged if your fic is lengthy.
What about fics that are already posted on ao3 in part? Do those qualify for the bang? It's okay if you have posted a few chapters of your fic already (you never know when the muse deserts you, after all), we just require you to refrain from posting more until posting begins here. All we ask is that you not post any public updates to the fic until September 1st (or August 1st with the mod’s okay). We don’t want you to lose kudos and comments so don’t worry about pulling the fic down, just hold off on updates for now.
Is there a minimum word count? 7,500 words for each finished fic, but the sky's the limit, right?
I see that the fic minimum is 7500 words and that published WIPs are acceptable - but what if the WIP I’m considering is already more than 7500 words? Is the expectation to add an additional 7500 to it? No. You can add as much or as little as you need to finish the story, though we do expect at least 1,000 or so new words if your WIP already meets the word count.
What happens if an author finishes the fic they signed up with but it’s less than 7,500 words? The intent was to go over the minimum but once they got into it the story was shorter than they thought and stretching it out would make it less good. Do they have to drop out at that point? By all means, we want your stories to feel as natural as possible, and if it’s under 7,500 words you may have two options:
1 - Drop the fic for the main BB event, post it now, and wait to post it to our AO3 collection in February when we run our International Fanworks Day celebration of finishing fics that are less than 7,500 words when finished. There’s no art for the fic, but bragging rights are posted to the communities for a week.
2 - If there are enough fics that fit that category, we can do a special day of posting the fics, but you’ll have to forgo art for the fic. I, as a mod, would probably pick November 30th for the posting day, as it’s the last day of posting for the bang and I don’t think anyone will mind more than one fic that day. You can post bragging rights to the community and share the fic with everyone.
Is there anything not allowed? As long as you wrote it and you want to finish it, you're welcome to participate. RPS/RPF is fine. Incest pairings are fine. Things like that I know have been hinted at in questions asked and as long as you tag for them, we’ll allow it. Also, canon settings with mostly OCs is allowed. We just ask that it be tagged properly with any content warnings you would deem fit and be given the appropriate rating for the level of sex/violence there is in the fic. Just bear in mind that while original work is allowed you may not get art for it.
I have a fic I wrote a few years ago, but only the first couple chapters are posted on AO3 because I was never happy with the rest of it and knew it needed major revision. Is that something I could use for WIP Big Bang? The entire fic has been posted, but only on one platform, and it would be rewritten for AO3 and WIPBB. I think revising a fic for posting would work, as long as you have at least 500 words done, will have 7,500 words at a minimum when it’s done, and are planning to add more to the fic. Simply rewriting what you have would be a gray area, but if you’re going to take stuff out and add new scenes, either in the old scenes place or on its own, you should be fine.
What's the etiquette around OC-centric stories? Ones that are set in a well known fandom and use several characters, but still lean a lot on original characters? Are they discouraged, or fine? Based on my own personal experience making art for a story that had a heavy OC presence, it’s not something we discourage at all, but be forewarned when it comes to the art accompanying your fic your artist may not be able to incorporate the OCs into your art. Not everyone makes art of a hand-drawn or digitally drawn nature, so it helps if you have people for face claims ahead of art submissions, and you and your artist communicate regularly. You can also end up with art not featuring the OCs at all, just the canon characters, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Your other options are to bring in an artist you trust with your vision of your OC or to make your own art (we do allow that, we just need to be told during the check-in before art that you’re bringing in your own artist if you go that route, or that you’re doing your own art…there will not be a need to sign up in the artist’s sign up, however), or to opt-out of art entirely. So there’s plenty of options to call on when it comes time for art.
What are 'check-ins’? These are a way for us to see what you've been up to and for you to make sure you're still on track. It will give you a little nudge/reminder if you need it, but they are not compulsory. Basically a form is posted that you fill out with your user ID (unique for each fic) and a checkbox to let us know you’re still participating, plus a section for any notes for the mods.
How are the check in IDs used? They are solely for the mods organizational purposes. Each ID being for a separate story allows us to keep all the information you submit during check-ins and for snippets in one line on our spreadsheet. You don’t have to share your check in IDs with anyone else if you don’t want to.
How much progress should authors be making between each checkpoint? (Percentage-wise from our estimated total wc, I guess?) Ideally, with each check-in, you should be at least 25% closer to finishing. The end word count only really matters in that the fic needs to be at least 7,500 words when done, so it’s more your progress towards finishing that should be measured, not so much the word count.
What are the snippets requirements? In order to allow the artists to make art for the story they claimed, we require you to supply three snippets from your fic, between 500 – 1500 words each. The snippets will be sent to the artist after they have claimed your story. They're to help the artist match your story for artwork the best way he or she possibly can. It’s helpful to choose scenes or parts of scenes that you feel best represent your fic, but don’t feel like they have to be perfect to be submitted. Along with the snippets, we will send your artist the basic fic info and your email, so the two of you can collaborate more if you would both like.
What are the rough drafts requirements? For the rough drafts, stories should be at least 80% complete. You will not have to turn them in to us, just assure us that you are at that point. Anything less is at the discretion of the mods and those authors should speak to one of the mods asap.
What is, and do I need, a beta? A beta is basically a person who goes over your work to make sure that there are no spelling/grammatical errors and they can even be of assistance in helping you with story lines, etc. It is highly recommended that a beta looks over your work before posting. If you are having trouble finding a beta, try this post.
Where can I post my fic/art? Stories and art can be posted to your own personal journal, Tumblr, ff-net, AO3, or wherever you like. For those of you with AO3 accounts, we will set up a collection that will go live on the day of the posting. If you don’t currently have an AO3 account but would like one, you can contact the mods for an invitation code to see if they have any available. You can also add yourself to the AO3 Invites Request queue.
What does posting look like? Do we have to post the whole thing on the day, or can we stretch it out between when posting starts and our date? I’ve had a few longfics get killed by big bangs forcing posting to happen on a given day, and would prefer to avoid that if possible. For most fics, posting to AO3/FF.net/other places will be allowed to start in September and you can stretch it out as many posts as you want as long as the complete fic is up by your posting date (and posting dates go from September 8th to November 15th with two weeks for emergency posting). However, you can send us an ask/e-mail about posting as early as August if you have an extremely long fic/something with a long posting schedule. Mostly what we want is the fic to be completely up on the website of your choice by your posting date, and I know some people don’t want to overwhelm their readers. So we want to work with writers to give them ample time to post the story up to their posting date.
Now, as for posting to the communities, you get to choose which day your link to the story and bragging rights are posted, and as I said, we have a range of dates from September 8th to November 15th with two to three stories posting a day. If for some reason you miss your posting date, you have until November 30th to post to the community, during the two weeks of emergency posting, with a possible extension after that due to the amount of participants needing to post later. So hopefully there should be plenty of time to get a longfic up and posted to the website of your choice and our BB.
Will the three snippets per story we have to send in be the ones we want the artist to make art for? Or can it just be random snippets and then later the artist and I can check together to see which scenes would work best for art? So ideally, you and the artist will be communicating once you’re each sent each other’s contact information, and you’ll give your artist a chance to read all that you’ve written at that point. That’s what happens in most cases. If your fic gets picked by an artist and they don’t work with you, then the snippets you sent will be what the artwork will be based on. It’s a good idea to know that, while most of the time the artists work closely with the authors, there are a few exceptions to that.
How do I know when to post? Posting will be tiered; you'll each get your own posting date that you and your artist will decide on together. There will probably be four fics, plus art, posting per day between September 8th and November 30th. The post with date claims will go up on August 23rd and you'll have to choose your date by September 1st.
Posting of chapters on AO3 or your own blog (or wherever you usually post) generally starts September 1st, but you can post earlier (as early as August 1st) if you let us know you have a long story. However, posting has to be finished by your chosen posting date to the comm. One of the things we're hoping to do with the posted dates is to give everybody on the comm a little bragging time in the spotlight. You know, "this story was incomplete for this long, but I finished this sucker." If you don't have time to post your bragging rights to the communities on your chosen posting date, you can queue up a post ahead of time and we can post it on the date you picked or you can email us your bragging rights and we can post by proxy for you. Either way works for us. Art will be due on the chosen posting date to the comm.
What am I posting to the Livejournal/Dreamwidth/Tumblr community if I’m posting the fic elsewhere? You’ll be posting what we call bragging rights. It’s a small form you fill out and post to the community with a link to your fic (we’ll enable moderated posting to the Tumblr, Livejournal and Dreamwidth communities for members on August 8th). We will post a template for posting artwork and stories to the comm closer to the posting date.
Is there a minimum/maximum requirement for my art? There is no strict minimum, but we do ask artists to remember that the authors are writing a minimum of 7,500 words and your artwork should reflect that. You can do anything you like, including banners, wallpapers, icons, mixes, vids, gif sets, picspams, etc. Suggested guidelines for art are 500x500px (or equivalent of smaller pieces like banner + spacers, cover + icons, etc.) for traditional art, digital art, and manips; 2 minutes for vids; 10 songs + cover art for mixes; and 6 images for gif sets and picspams. We also ask that when you are in contact with the author, you work with them to see if there is anything specific they would like (i.e. a wallpaper, book cover, etc.). The art is your work, but having ideas doesn't hurt!
What are 'art claims'? The claims are when anonymous summaries of the story go up for artists to choose from. Artists sign-ups and art claims are the same thing; we use one form for both things, and that way the authors don’t have to sign up for an event they may not end up participating in. It is based on a 'first come, first served' basis and artists may choose up to three potential stories (in case their first choice is unavailable). If there are more stories than artists, there will be a second round of claims wherein artists may choose a second story to work with. And on until all stories are claimed for art.
If a fic up for claiming is rated explicit (R, NC-17, etc.), please only claim the story if you are over 18 years of age. Some authors may be uncomfortable working with underage artists on explicit works. We do not verify ages in any way for the bang, so this is solely on the honor system.
What do I do if I have problems or concerns about my author/artist? Sometimes authors and artists do not get along and this may cause problems with working together. If this happens to be the case with you, please email the mods and we will try to do what we can so that everyone has a chance to have fun at WIP Big Bang!
If you have not heard from your author/artist in some time after trying to contact them, you can reach out to us via email and we will try to get in touch with them for you.
Can I get an extension? Community extensions may be given in the event that the majority of the authors/artists need one. They may also be given individually under certain circumstances, but this must be discussed with the mods and will only be a short extension for posting. If you are certain that you won’t be able to finish your story in time, please let us know by July 13th.
Can I swap out a fic if my muse abandons it again? When you sign up, you give us the information on the potential fic(s) you want to write. If, say, one fic isn’t working but one you didn’t sign up for is, you can switch them out while letting the mods know if you need to change a user ID you used. It is absolutely okay to switch fics all the way up until snippets are due. By then, we hope you’ll have however many fics you plan on doing to at least 80% completion since rough drafts are due not much later. Just drop an email to the mods at [email protected] with the new information (title, fandom, etc) and if you want a new sign in ID or plan to use the same one for the fic you’re replacing it with.
Can I drop out? We have high hopes that everybody who signs up can actually finish the round and share in the joy of the reveal with us, but real life can unfortunately get in the way and we completely understand! If you feel like you just cannot finish in time and no amount of assistance from us can help you, just let us know by August 13th (if at all possible).
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I was just wondering if there’s any way to enter the bang anonymously? Like would it be okay to put our work in an anonymous collection on ao3 or something? Unfortunately, I can’t think of a way for that to work. The collection that we use is moderated but it’s not anonymous, and there are the bragging posts that you post on your posting day, which you would have your username on whichever platform you use.
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In another life part 3
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader
Summary: You tag along on a mission.
Warnings: Language and suggestive themes, violence against a curse
“Now just what is that smell?” Gojos head popped around the corner wall eyes glowing.
You smile awkwardly, “Hopefully that’s a good comment?”.
“If it tastes as good as it smells then definitely… you didn’t have to make breakfast though”.
“I wanted to, to thank you for everything you’ve done so far for me”. You smiled shyly while plating up a stack of 10 strawberries and cream French toast with white chocolate sauce and fresh fruit. A sickeningly sweet combo that was also one of satorus favorites.
He sat down at the table eyeing the breakfast in awe.
“So this is how she trapped me…”
“Huh did you say something?”
“Nope”
“Alright, dig in.” You set your own plate down, a couple plain pancakes with some fruit.
“Thank you for the meal”
You smirked to yourself when you saw him absolutely devour the meal out of the corner of your eye.
Yup, I know how to keep my transdimentional husband💅
“So what’s the plan for today?” You ask shoving a piece of strawberry in your mouth.
Gojo pauses and leans back arms crossed. “Well I do have some business to take care of with the students but after that I’m thinking we head back to the school and see what information we can dig up. So I’ll pick you up later I guess”.
“No way” you shake your head.
“Huh?”
“I mean there’s no way I’m staying here, I know it’s safe here because of the veil but I need to train! Who knows when Amomeeemo will show up again, I wanna be ready this time!”.
Is his name really that hard?
“Uh well I have no problem letting you tag along, can’t say I’m not curious to see your technique.”
“Great… oh but my clothes are kind of all curse gooed out…
“Oh right, give me a second”
*swoosh*
He didn’t even ask me my size- oh right, like he needed too…
*flashback*
“I swear I could go blind right now and be a happy man the rest of my life…” you turned meeting his glowing eyes as he leaned lazily on the wall eyeing you up and down.”
“Aw hey don’t say that” you turned back to stirring the eggs not knowing if the heat was from the stove or your cheeks
Last night was the first time you and satoru had ahem… canoodled and you were currently clad in one of his shirts loosely buttoned with nothing under.
“Soooo” you blushed feeling warm arms wrap around you from behind.
“Normally I’d ask how it was but judging by how loud you were last night I don’t need to…” he bit your ear, hot breathe on your neck making you shiver.
“Mmm cocky…it was fine…”you tried to sound annoyed but that was hard when your heart was going a mile a minute.
“Oh yeah? T-T-Toru ah ah please ah! sooo good I’m gonna cu-“ he mocked.
“AH STOP” you shoved him away embarrassed.
“Crap I burned the eggs!”.
“Here let me” he reached over for the pan with the biggest smirk and turned to the trash.
You the tomato turned away in a huff and sat at the table.
“How about we go out for breakfast? There’s this great place nearby, they make these soufflé pancakes that are just the best.”
“Well I would say yes but I kinda don’t have any clothes since someone tore my dress last night…”
“Oh don’t worry, I already got you new clothes~” he threw a bag your way.
“You did?” Huh!?
Bersace? And is this real Jucci!?
“Ah Toru you didn’t have to buy such expensive things- wait how did you know my size?” You quirk a brow holding a bra up with your pinky.
“Oh please, I have six eyes, I knew all your measurements the day I met you”
“Ew that’s so creepy…”
“Well I can always return the stuff-“
“N-no it’s fine, thank you Toru” you shyly approach him and kiss him on the cheek.
“Hmm you call that a thank you?”
“S-shut up I’m not used to this…jerk” you turn to leave embarrassed.
“Aw did I make you upset baby? C’mere…” his impossibly long arm wrapped around your waist and brought you back to him.
You could see that familiar look in his eyes..
“W-what about breakfast..” you gulp averting your eyes.
“Hmm m’kinda hungry for something else now…” he whispered in your ear…
*Flashback end*
*SWOOSH*
“Huh what’s wrong with your face??”
You quickly fixed your expression, “n-nothing just thinking… those for me?” You pointed to the bag he was holding.
“Yep, you’ll have to make do until we go shopping” he handed you the bag.
“Make do with designer clothes? I think I’ll manage” you smirked pulling out an outfit and seeing the label, *Louis Button* still has the best taste huh?
“Thank you baby they’re gorgeous…”
“…”
“Ah-! Crap s-sorry” ugh so embarrassing.
He just tilted his head in amusement. After the initial weirdness wore off he was finding himself enjoying this now.
“I’ll go change..” you rush off into the room and slam the door.
****************************************************
“Gooood Morning students!” Gojos cheery mood was a stark difference to the kids who looked ready to kill him.
“You said we were meeting in Roppongi!!”
“Yeah what’s up with that!?! This place sucks!”
“Did you guys actually believe him…”
Gojo claps and side steps to reveal you.
“Oh hey it’s you.”
You wave shyly at the group who scrutinizes you.
“Well everyone allow me to introduce you to y/n! She’s from another universe but one where she knows everyone, freaky right!?”
“Are you joking? No way that’s true”
“We literally saw her fall from the sky, is it really that hard to believe?”
“Well… ok then if you really do know us then tell us some things about us.”
You thought for a moment.
“Things.. um well Yuji likes girls like Jennifer Lawrence… Nobara wants to be a fashion model… and Megumi is allergic to cats..”
“Well she’s right…”
“So weird…”
“Hey so you a sorcerer or something then?”
“Mm kinda? I help out occasionally but I’m mostly only good at barriers and seals. I can excersize low level curses though.”
“Or keep them as pets.” Gojo mumbled.
“So how did you-“ the kids are abruptly cut off by a loud clap.
“Alright guys, you’ll have all the time in the world to question later her but first, we have a special grade to take care of!”
“Oh right..”
Gojo led you all to what appeared to be an old abandoned warehouse.
“Ew it smells..”
“Hey why don’t you put up the veil?” Gojo said over his shoulder.
“Oh uh sure.” He probably curious to see my techniques…
“Emerge from lightness brighter still…” you make the hand sign and feel the energy curse through you.
“Huh?”
“What in the sailor moon school girl shoujo was that?” One exclaimed!
“What do you mean?” You furrow a brow watching as your veil encompasses the area perfectly.
“Your veil, the speech, heck even the color of it, what gives??”
“This is how everyone does it...?” You cock your head. Is this not how they did it?
“So weird..”
“Um so anyway… let’s go” Gojo leads the group again inside the building.
You enter a large dusty and dark room, with one flickering light illuminating the space.
“So creepy…” you comment glancing around wearily.
“I definitely feel a strong presence..” Yuji commented kicking away a moldy piece of… whatever that was..
Suddenly Gojo stopped and motioned forward with his head, “Go on, I’ll stand back here unless you really need me”.
The kids stepped forward, you hung back as well. You wanted to train yes but didn’t want to get in the way of their lesson.
A scurrying and squeak had you shrieking and suddenly launching yourself onto Gojos arm unconsciously stepping up on his shoes so the offending animal couldn’t get you.
“Ew ew ew so gross” you held on tight until the rat was out of view.
“Ah! not again!!” You jumped back off in a fluster of apologies and embarrassment.
“Don’t apologize, I’m honestly finding all of this funny now.”
“Don’t say that….” You mumble mortified.
*Crash*
“Ah there it is!” Suddenly a giant grotesque spider looking curse swings down from the ceiling. You see the kids a little ways ahead get into position.
“I know they need to get stronger but I always hate watching them fight…” you sighed a bit sadly. Gojo couldn’t protect them forever but you wish he could..
“You care about them a lot huh?”
“Of course I do, they’re basically family…I wonder how they’re doing… they have a tournament coming up soon too.. winner gets promoted to first grade.”
“Oh? They choose like that?”
“Yeah, but I think it would be-ah! S-should we help them?!” You cried out watching the spider thingy wrap them up in webs.
“Nope not yet, have faith in them.”
“I know I just- ah I can’t watch!” You turn around covering your eyes.
Huh? A cold feeling washed over you all of the sudden. Slowly you looked up and eyed the ceiling carefully. You felt it before you saw it, a giant ball of spider saliva shooting your way.
Your right hand moved on instinct, swiping across your body whilst releasing a burst of energy that acted as a shield. The saliva sputtered on the ground melting and sizzling.
“Ah so you do have some skill after all.” Gojo said directly behind you.
The jerk, he could’ve warned you!
“Why don’t you take care of this spider for us? You said you needed training right? This one is a lot weaker than the one the kids are fighting.” Gojo smirked.
Ugh why did I say that??? Spiders are so creepy ew..
“S-sure” you shivered in disgust as the being spiraled down from the ceiling.
You swiped your right hand out again and this time let the energy form in your palm. When it was adequate you pushed it in the direction of the curse.
Crap it’s fast… you dodged another saliva attack with your shield and rethought your strategy.
Instead of aiming at the curse you aimed at the Ceiling above it.
*Rumble* *Crash*
*SCREEEEEEEECH*
You winced as the ceiling caved in and smooshed the spider under it to the ground.
You took a few steps back watching the pile carefully.
You charged a different, more powerful blast in your palm and waited.
…..
…..
…..
“SCREEEEEEEECH”
The pile erupted and you readied your hand. You totally got this.
The curse was quick to set its 100 eyes on you and make a dash.
Ok ready to hit it in three, two on- huh? Ah
Suddenly a flash of heat washed over you and your vision blurred.the spider was suddenly tilted in your eyes.
*swoosh*
“Uh hey you ok?” Your view was changed to silvery white locks hovering over you.
Gojo frowned holding you in his arms
“You were doing good, what happened?”
You used a hand clutching his chest to hold yourself steady in his arms. “Frgot mm pills”
“Huh?” Oh right. Your Satoru did mention something about iron pills. Guess I should’ve taken it more seriously…
“I’ll be fine… just stop spinning for a second” you frowned.
“I’m standing still…”
****************************************************
“Sorry for the trouble…” you were currently sipping on some juice in a nearby cafe with Gojo. A small bottle of pills by your hand.
“It’s fine don’t worry about it.” He waved dismissively.
“Besides, the pharmacy was by this cafe which happens to be one of my favorites.”
“I don’t think I’ve been here before… ooh they have matcha cake rolls, you know who’d love this place? Suguru, hes always hating on sweet stuff but this one doesn’t seem like it has too much sugar…”
“Hm? Oh yeah..”
Huh, there it is again, that weird feeling when I bring up Suguru.
Do I ask? No I shouldn’t right? Maybe I can ask the kids..
It’s nearing evening time when you and Gojo are making your way to the school. You asked him not to warp based on how dizzy you just were.
You subtly glance to the side, the setting sun illuminating his profile in a golden hue. He opted for his designer glasses today and man were you a sucker for them.
You remember the time you accidentally sat on one of his limited edition Lay Banz shades and he made you hold a funeral for them. Man what a goof…
“Uh you ok over there?” Gojo raised a brow hearing you snicker to yourself like a maniac.
“Yeah, just remembered something funny…”
He hummed and smiled. “Your smile sorta reminds me of something…just can’t quite put my finger on what…”
You smiled warmly, thinking back to one of your first dates.
*Flashback*
“Your smile reminds me of something…”
“Oh yeah? What?”.
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“I won’t laugh…” probably…
“My grandmother...”.
“Your grandmother? Why?”
Did you have an old lady laugh??
“Well when she smiled, everything around her seemed to brighten up.”
“….”
“Huh why are you so red?”
“Shut up.”
*end flashback*
“Uh oh you’re turning colors again, you’re not gonna faint again are you??” Gojo started fanning you.
“I’m good I’m good-“ you smack his hand away laughing.
“Did I mention you’re kinda weird?”
“Well Excuse me, I do not take insults from someone who organizes their sun glasses by, and I quote, “Cold, Warm, and Horny” like I still to this day don’t get what that means!”
“….you know too much…”
You give him a teasing smile, “I did mention we are married right?”
“So weird…”
****************************************************
Thank you all for the amazing support!! It means so much and motivates me to keep going! I love you all xoxo
Also please don’t be shy to interact or send me things in my inbox, I love that stuff haha
@gojosatorulover7 @goaway-plzz @goldenglow149 @taakt17 @kneesheee @yumii-34 @ritsatoru @generalstephkenobi @author20 @bitchycloudstrawberry @hojoslutoru @sheluvnassi @shirabane @reagan707 @angstylittleb1tch
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dolliuv · 2 days
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breeding w/ ot9 &team | headcanons
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ᝰ.ᐟ warning! this post contains smut consisting the members: yuma, jo, harua, taki, and maki. if you are uncomfortable w/ smut with said members, i suggest not reading past “read more” , i will not be responsible for your discomfort if you still continue to read past that point.
| contains : senpai/oppa kinks, size kinks ( for majority members ), breeding, choking kink, degradation/praising, mean doms ( for certain members ), overstimulation
| dynamics : dom! ot9 teamies x reader
KOGA YUDAI
yudai is big on breeding, he loves it so much. being able to fill you to the brim, making you shake from your 5th orgasm as his cock fills your pretty little hole up with his hot seed. he’ll always tell you how much he’ll let his cum fill you up until you’re begging. yudai is absolutely a breeding kink man!!
“come on, princess, i know you can take more.”
MURATA FUMA
oh ‘y , how fuma is also a fellow sucker of breeding. he likes to think of it as his way of ‘making love’ , when really he’s fucking you nearly braindead simply because he wants to cum in you as much as he can, he gets off on the thought of his babies in you.
“how cute.”
WANG YIXIANG
nicholas is either fucking his cum into you or cumming on your boobs, most case scenario, he’s breeding you.. alot. like until you’re crying begging him to stop, you let him breed you once and now he can’t stop, he will literally beg sometimes to let him breed you.
“take what i’m giving or you can just pleasure yourself.”
BYUN EUIJOO
euijoo’s always wanted to be a father :( , so when you’re letting him breed your cunt like whore, he enjoys it so bad, his hands on your hips to keep you still as he’s fucking his cum back into you relentlessly, he’s gonna make it known he loves breeding you tbh
“oh? can’t take more of oppa’s cum,huh?”
૮ ․ ․ ྀིა🦴 if you proceed past this point, you are responsible for your own feelings, not me!
NAKAKITA YUMA
yuma… that little FUCK. he will ABSOLUTELY breed you no hesitation, like no condom? oh alright, he’ll just use you as his personal cum dump to fuck you full of his kids, and that stupid smirk on his face would be there
“just take it, i know you can, kitty.”
ASAKURA JO
jo, see now he’s a wild card, he either would be fucking the shit out of you and breeding you to the brim ORRR he’s making love to you but yet STILL breeding you to the brim. he’s always up for either way, he just loves taking photos of your cunt being filled with him.
“stay still, i need a photo to look at so i can draw it later.”
SHIGETA HARUA
harua would definitely do it if you begged, he’s into that shit, he wants you to beg him to fill you up with his babies and he’ll do it just as you asked. if i’m being honest he’d be a guy into the slightly rougher sex tbh.
“feels so good, hm?”
TAKAYMA RIKI
LITTLE SHIT. ahem, i mean taki. yeah he’s breeding you full and making sure that stays in your cunt, whether he uses a plug or just your panties, he loves how pretty you look just filled with his cum, knowing it’s only him to fill you up with his babies, mayhaps a tiny size kink too …
“yeah? you like when i fuck my cum right back in you?”
HIROTA MAUS RIKI
little shit pt 3, i mean maki :3, ahhh he has a size kink and nobody can tell me otherwise. he’d so be turned on by how much smaller ( height wise btw ) you are compared to him, he’s gonna definitely breed the fuck outta you, making sure you’re in tears by the end of it.
“you can take more, baby, don’t be whiny now.”
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 📝 : みなさん、こんにちは! 最近遅くてごめんなさい! もうすぐ高速アップロードに戻ります。 | Hello everyone, Hope you all are enjoying my posts! Sorry for being so slow lately! I'll be back to fast uploads soon.
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Hiii!!
If you are comfortable with it, can you do a fic of scara/wanderer with an s/o who does not like being touched because of their past lover?? Fluff please😃
Thank you very much!!<3
A/N: Of course! I hope this is fluff enough!
Wanderer x touch aversive!reader
Thoughts swirled your mind as you tried to form words of how you could tell him why. Granted he wasn’t the best fan of touch either which gave you a hint that that it would turn out well but with that blank expression of his it’s always hard to tell. You tightly grasped the fabric of the couch and flicked you gaze back up to the door where you expected him to walk in any moment. It was 8pm, the time when he’d normally get home from his classes at the Academia’s library and you were getting anxious.
Finally you heard the door open and a sigh let out, tiredly walking in the door and talking off his shoes before seeing you on the couch in the living room. It wasn’t obvious but you could tell by the slight upturn of his lips that he was happy he was home and got to be comfortable with his significant other. You loved how he could let his walls down after months of gaining his trust and for him to feel safe and relaxed around you. Nahida helped a lot, especially when she was slowly helping Wanderer adjust to Sumeru after the incident and having you accompany him certain times.
That wasn’t what you wanted to talk about though and smiled as he walked over to you, sitting down next to you and kissing you softly. He went to hold your hand but you stilled and had to hold back your normal reaction of pulling it back. You saw how he glanced up at you, analyzing your expression and looking a little worried. You assumed that he was concerned you had grown scared of him or worried he’d do something to hurt you; a fear he had in the back of his mind with being abandoned. “Alright. Do you wanna explain what’s going on?” he said and being straight to the point as always. You had several speeches prepared on how you were going to tell him but of course you couldn’t remember any of them.
“I should’ve told you this earlier but I’m not fond of others touching me or I don’t like people touching me. My previous lover did some things,” your voice got a bit strained and swallowed to continue. Wanderer interrupted you first however and looked down solemnly as if reflecting before looking back at you with a understanding expression. “You don’t need to explain what they did. It’s not my place to know that information if you’re not comfortable sharing it. I did have a guess seeing as you avoided touch ever since we met but try not to worry. If it’s a new boundary you want to set then I have no problem with it.” he said but you could tell he cared much more than he let on.
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I generally don’t like to add on to these pile on articles about a particular situation. But damn that article about keeping Harry’s appearances to a minimum or rather very tightly controlled is uh wild. I always say there are 4 types of “leaks”. 1. The out of no where leak (unexpected) 2. The planted leak about info they want out 3. The rebuttals leak. And lastly: 4. The reality leak. Now Meghan always plays in the second and third category. It’s been her MO for years now, Harry on the other hand often times really only plays in the third category. He very clearly wants to be perceived in a very certain way by a specific set of people. Now on occasion we’ve seen number 1 happen but it was disguised or viewed as 2 or 3 depending on who you ask (megxit//oprah//lawsuits for Harry). Even rarer are leaks that fall into category 4. The dress was the first big one, then it was the frogmore neighbor paper thing and then it stopped for a little bit while they moved to the states, and then came Spotify and now, this. And I guess I’m just struck at the accuracy and devastation that these particular leaks caused. They became points of fixation for both Harry and Meghan and your blog has done a great job at tracking their individual reactions to them. The common denominator between all of them is the third party in which they came from, a non family member who was either directly or very closely associated with the core situation. These armor piercing stories seem to be, in hindsight, axis tilting turning points where huge decisions are made. (‘leaving the royal family or launching the ARO brand). Which to me begs the question, what is the irrational decision Harry will make next? Because the reality behind closed doors for Harry is likely much darker than he lets on. The article was certainly a category 4 disguised as a category 3 to respond to speculation relating to his invictius games status.
All in all, I suspect that ARO was very hastily launch, which is why there’s been no follow up or plan. The shows likely tick a box for Netflix to pay the final installment owned, while Harry and Meghan are trying to quell speculation that the relationship with the streaming giant has soured. But most importantly I really think that people aren’t picking up the phone for him any longer and the military has likely been more vocal behind closed doors, which puts him in a very very big bind. Which is only going to be further enlarged, because ex military men don’t play polo. It is a notorious rich persons sport, something that fits very well into the ARO brand Meghan is aiming for, but falls very short of the person Harry views himself as (‘hero Harry). Harry has lost the ability for them to peacefully co exist. His behavior over the last 4 years, and their mutual statements together have forced him to choose one. So now rehabbing one image will always mean the eroding of the other. I still think he wants to do both but I think after the Netflix series fails, we’ll see him drop polo all together and try and go all in on IG again, but unfortunately by that time IG will have moved on out of necessity.
Polo is a rich person's sport but polo also isn't a thing here in the US. Unless you live in the tony old-school old-money enclaves where people are playing polo (Santa Barbara, Charleston, the Hamptons, and Miami, for example), polo just isn't on your radar here in the US like it may be in the UK.
If Harry and Meghan really wanted to get in with the rich American folks - like the billionaires, the Hollywood A-List, the politicians, the industry titans - the golf course is where they need to be.
But he's not interested in that. Harry's not interested in anything American except using our first amendment to control what people say about him. He's the worst kind of immigrant.
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