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#bingo fic
storiesofsvu · 1 year
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Learn to Share
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Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut, dirty talk, some dom/sub dynamics, nothing too crazy this time lol. Covers the "only one bed" square for xmas bingo and the "forced proximity" for @resanoona 3k bingo! Also covers a prompt requested by anon.
It was honestly a miracle that the BAU had managed to not only wrap their last case, but get home, finalize paperwork and have nothing else come up before Christmas Eve. Everyone was beyond thankful for that since it was the night of the annual Christmas at Rossi’s party, nothing too fancy, or too huge, usually just the team and any respective partners that wanted to come maybe a few extra agents or assistants that helped them out majorly through the year. The evening was full of laughter, amazing food, fancy wines, expensive bourbons and an all around sense of family and quality relaxation time.
Once dinner was finished, dishes were left for the morning and the party would end up spreading its way through the house. There were often cigars being smoked out back, Dave wandering through the rooms showing off any new fancy things he’d collected over the year or telling stories of his wild days. As the night wore on and the candles began to burn low the crowd would begin to dwindle, people slipping off into the night after a quiet goodbye and Merry Christmas, knowing they had family to see early the next morning. Eventually it was only Dave, Spencer, Tara, you and Emily left in the living room, fresh glasses of wine poured, alcohol flowing through your veins, keeping you warm and relaxed, helping everyone let go a little bit more than normal. Dave always extended the offer from dinner to everyone able to stay overnight, considering just how much alcohol he had provided it was the smart choice. Spencer was tipsily rambling on about one theory or another, pulling laughter from the girls as Rossi drained his glass, letting out a small groan as he stood from the couch.
“It’s late. You kids know where the guest rooms are.”
There was a chorus of goodnights as he reminded everyone they were more than welcome to stay as long as they wanted and breakfast would be available in the morning before he disappeared down the hall. Spencer’s theory finally wrapped up a bit later and Tara finished her drink, moving to put her wine glass in the sink.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Emily protested with a laugh and Tara chuckled.
“There’s four of us and only three rooms, I just bunked with Reid all week, it’s not happening again tonight. Besides, you two had private suites, learn to share.” She teased.
Emily let out a mock offended scoff as Spencer tried to object and you laughed rolling your eyes at Tara as she flashed the group a smile and a wave along with good night. It didn’t take much longer before you were yawning, doing your best not to lean into Emily’s shoulder as you finished your drink.
“Guys…” you started, “never thought I’d be this person, but I think it’s bedtime for me.” You sat up stretching your body out with a soft groan, “see you in the morning.” You shot Emily a lingering look as you moved from the couch, your glass finding home on the kitchen island before you wandered down the hall.
You would forever and always be thankful for Rossi and his level of hospitality extending beyond anyone you’d ever experienced. There were unopened toothbrush packages and makeup wipes in the en suite you were able to help yourself to, along with some cozy clothes stashed in the guest room’s closet. You simply tugged down a comfy cotton t-shirt, pulling it over your bare body before plugging in your phone and letting out a happy sigh as you shifted under the covers.
You weren’t surprised at the small murmur of voices in the hallway before the light flicked off, the sound of the other guest room door clicking shut and the door to your guest room opened, Emily slipping through it with a grin on her face, the soft lamplight washing her in a golden glow.
“You coming for a sleepover?” You greeted with a grin and she laughed quietly.
“You heard Tara.” Her hands moved to her shirt, sliding down the buttons she undid them, “apparently it’s our turn to share.”
“If only they knew just how much sharing we had done this week.” You purred, sitting up as you shifted onto your knees and Emily chuckled.
“Are you gonna be quiet this time?” She raised a brow, beginning to crawl up the bed, “because I’ll only touch you if you’re quiet…. I don’t want you to risk waking anyone up again.”
“I’ll be good.” Your breath caught in your throat, “I promise…”
“Good.” One of her hands wrapped around the back of your head, pulling her to you, her lips brushing against yours when she spoke, “such a shame there’s only one bed.”
“It is a king… could build a wall of pillows?” You offered with a grin and Emily chuckled, her breath warm on your skin.
“I was thinking we could take advantage of it….”
“Hmm… I do like the sound of that better.” You barely had moment to let out a huff of a laugh before Emily’s lips were on you. Your hands fell to her bare waist, wrapping around her and pulling her body tight to you while her hand wove into your hair.
The kiss built up, starting slow, a familiar dance between all too familiar lips until Emily’s tongue slid across the seam of your lips, her teeth nipping into your lower lip and you groaned. She took the opportunity to sink her tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of you she could while her free hand started to toy with the hem of the shirt you had on. Your hands drifted upward, swiftly un doing her bra and she tossed it to the floor before her hands tickled up your bare thighs, tugging at the hem of your shirt. The kiss broke long enough for her to pull the garment over your head and it joined the growing pile on the floor.
“So fucking gorgeous.” She cooed, nudging you backwards towards the pillows, “lie back for me baby.”
You did as she asked, getting comfortable on the bed as she stepped off it to rid herself of the rest of her clothing, smirking at the way your eyes lingered on her body as if you were trying to memorize every inch. A hand on the mattress she settled over you, lips meeting yours again, this kiss deeper than the last while her hand snuck between your legs. The tips of her fingers began to play with your pussy, trailing through them feather light, teasing you, leaving you whining for more.
“Quiet…” she warned, “can’t have us getting caught…”
“Sorry M’am.” You murmured in return as Emily kissed across your jaw, her lips trailing down your neck, teeth scratching at your skin ever so lightly until she bit deeply into your pulse point and your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the gasp escaping your lips.
“That’s my good girl.” Her lips curved into a grin against your skin as they trailed across your body, her tongue swiping across your collarbone before her lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking it into her mouth while her tongue flicked across it. Her finger tips continuing to tease you, the heel of her hand randomly pressing against your clit as your hips rocked upwards in need of more.
She sunk lower on your body, lips leaving little kisses and love bites on your hips and thighs until she was settled between your legs. Her hand ran up your cunt, smearing wetness across it while her fingers widened, spreading you open for her and you let out a breathy sigh. It was only a moment later her mouth was on you, kissing at your folds, tongue slipping as deep into as you could and you bit back a moan, your fingers clenching into the bedspread. Emily continued to eagerly lap at your pussy, groaning into it, the vibrations pulling quiet whimpers from you as she buried herself between your legs. You were doing your absolute best to keep quiet, knowing just how easy it would be to be overheard by any of the others. But when Emily’s hand snuck up to join her mouth, her lips shifted up wrapping around your clit and she sucked, hard and you weren’t expecting it.
“Oh fuck!” The moan left your lips before you even realized and even faster Emily’s hand and mouth left your cunt, instead, her teeth quickly and sharply bit into your thigh, “oww!” You hissed in a whisper and she raised an unimpressed brow in your direction when she looked up at you. “That hurt!”
“And you had one rule sweetheart.” She husked back, “shame I can’t spank you, that certainly would call attention to what we were up to. Guess you’ll have to get that punishment tomorrow night. Now…another outburst like that and I’m shoving your panties in that dirty little mouth of yours, understood?”
“Yes ma’am…” your breath caught in your throat, hitching when her mouth returned to your pussy, slowly licking through you before gently wrapping around your clit once more. You tugged your lip into your teeth, holding back any noises aside from quiet whimpers as Emily’s fingers sunk into your pussy. She let out a quiet groan at the feeling of you tightly wrapping around her, how wet you already were, juices slicking her fingers within seconds. She twisted and curled them within you until she found that sensitive spot and your hips jolted up off the bed, a soft gasp leaving your lips and she smirked against your body.
“Right there?” She murmured, pressing on the spot again and you nodded, eyes tightly scrunching shut, “you like it when I touch you here?”
“Oh god Em!” It was barely above a whisper, a shuddering breath following it as she continued to brush against the spot, chuckling softly before her mouth returned to your swollen nub.
Her lips wrapped around it, sucking it into her mouth while her tongue flicked patterns against it, harder and faster until you were trembling under her. Her fingers worked in tandem, feeling the way your cunt began to flutter around her, your clit pulsing in her mouth in the same rhythm. Fire was burning through you, your body shivering with each touch of Emily’s fingers or mouth, each pass of either bringing you more and more pleasure. You let out a muffled cry when the fire broke the surface, biting down so hard on your lip you swore you’d broken the skin. Emily’s lips slipped from your clit when you orgasm hit, watching the way your juices lightly dribbled out of you, leaking down her wrist as your body shook on the bed.
“That’s my good girl… so pretty…” She praised before her fingers slipped out of you and she delicately licked around your pussy, cleaning up the smeared juices before she crawled back over you, straddling your hips and she extended her slicked fingers to you. You eagerly accepted them into your mouth, lips wrapping around them as you sucked them clean. “Taste so good sweetheart, thought I should share.”
“Thank you.” You breathed out and she chuckled at the way you dropped back against the pillows.
“Oh I’m not done. I know you can handle another one.” She sat up on her knees, shifting lower on your body as she swatted at your hip, “roll over.”
You did as she asked and she grasped at your hips, pulling you up on your knees while your head remained buried the pillows. Her knee nudged at your leg, shoving yours further apart so she was able to settle between them, a hand running up your back, pressing you into the pillows and you let out a quiet groan. Her free hand trailed up the inside of your leg, fingers brushing through your still dripping pussy before her thumb sunk in as deep as it could and moaned softly into the pillows. Your hips began to rock back onto her hand, fucking yourself on her digits as you moved and she leant over you, pressing a kiss to the small of your back.
“That’s my good girl.” Her fingers pinched your clit before they swapped places with her thumb, sinking deep into your cunt. With each thrust of her hand her hips rocked forward, body meeting yours as your hips thrusted back, eager for more, for her fingers to find that spot within you again. “Just like that… you keep fucking yourself on my fingers alright sweetheart?”
“Need more…” you whined softly and she huffed a laugh out, fingers curling within you as she picked up the pace, her body rocking into yours with more force, fingers moving faster and going as deep as they could into your wetness.
“I guess you’ve been good enough for a bit of a reward.” She purred, her free hand moving from your hip to the bag you hadn’t even noticed her bring into the room.
Your head dropped onto your arms, chest beginning to heave as your cunt fluttered around her fingers, your body burned, ached to be stuffed with her cock, but you knew that wasn’t going to be able to happen tonight. Though, you couldn’t really complain about that, Emily was just as good with her hands and mouth and judging by the punishment comment earlier, you would get everything you desired in the very near future. Her hand crooked within you, finding your g-spot once again and the pillows muffled your cry as your fingers tightened into the bedspread. You barely heard the click of the small vibrator being turned on but you certainly felt it as Emily pressed it onto your clit.
“Fuck…” you muttered, your hips jolting back towards her as it began to rub at your body.
“Give me another one, I know you’ve got it in you.” She practically growled, her fingers flicking faster within you as she turned the vibe up a notch and you gasped. She could see the sheen of sweat glimmering on your skin as pleasure rocked through you, your thighs had began to shake, your hips faltering as you continued to try to fuck yourself on her hand.
She picked up the pace of her hand, making sure she was giving you everything she could, pressing the vibrator harder against your throbbing clit before she turned it up to the highest speed. It was quiet, but the room was full of dirty noises, your squelching pussy, juices leaking down your thighs and onto Emily’s wrist, the quiet cries and whimpers muffled into the pillows as you tried to not moan, the whir of the vibrator.
“You’re almost there, I can feel it baby, let go for me.” She cooed, fingers brushing right over the sensitive spot, pressing harder and lingering for a second longer than the last thrust and you couldn’t help it, your orgasm tore through you like a wildfire.
“Oh fuck Emily!” The cry was louder than you’d intended and you winced the best you could as your body dropped to the mattress, shaking and trembling with pleasure. Emily clicked the vibrator off, her fingers slowing down, gently fucking you through your orgasm, watching the way your body twitched as she did so before she finally pulled them from you, sucking them clean. “Sorry.” You whimpered, little shivers and soft cries leaving you as pleasure surged through your nerves.
Emily’s hand softly ran up and down your back, nails scratching into your hair ever so softly as you continued to come down from your peak, a whimper escaping your lips whenever her nails traced over a sensitive spot of your body. A quiet knock on the door made both of you jump, Emily beginning to scramble to get the both of you under the covers as Spencer’s soft voice floated through the air.
“Is someone crying?” He asked and you stifled a laugh as Emily struggled to come up with an answer quickly.
“I—uh, accidentally elbowed her in the face, we’re fine.”
“You sure?” He asked quietly and you let out a quiet shriek at the sound of the doorknob turning.
“Yup!” You called back quickly, “totally fine, just hit the cheek. Serves me right for being a blanket hog.”
“…okay…” He replied and the two of you held your breath until his footsteps faded down the hallway. You heard his bedroom door click shut and a fit of quiet giggles took over you as Emily scowled down at you, swatting at your ass.
“I told you to be quiet.”
“Well then I guess I’m getting extra spankings for Christmas.” Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you looked up at her and she playfully rolled her eyes.
“Damn right you fucking are.”
__________
@svulife-rl @ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @andreasvu @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @leelizzzle @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @loverllyhurtswithoutyou @disneyfan624 @bluetodie @borg-queer
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flowerparrish · 2 years
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Part 4 of the “false confidence” series
Rated: Teen
Relationship: Cody/Obi-Wan
Tags: Musician AU; Nonbinary Obi-Wan Kenobi; Trans Cody; Developing Relationship; Protective Cody; Protective Rex; Neopronouns; Gender-Neutral Pronouns; Meddling Best Friends; Cody POV
Warnings: Triggers, Panic Attacks, (Unintentional) Misgendering
Summary:
Cody is moving slowly, treating this new relationship with the same care he'd take walking across an icy pond back home--testing each step before he takes it, not because he's scared of getting hurt, but because he's scared of breaking something that’s worth handling with care.
@codywanbingo Whump fill for Free Space
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innerslumber · 2 years
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Argh I broke the rule I set for myself and went over the word count lol. But hey, now I'm done 7/10 chapters of my Stucky bingo fic!! Woohoo!!
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ncdover1285 · 2 years
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This fic was written for the @wincestreversebang I was lucky to get this amazing piece of art! Dean with the red eyes I mean yes! I’m so glad I was able to work with bluefire986 again this year, I love the original piece and all the extras she made are out of this world!
Title: Time For a Change 
Author: ncdover1285 
Artist: bluefire986 @bluefire986
Rated: Teen 
Pairing: Dean/Sam 
Word count: 4029 
Dean and Sam Bingo: Creature AU 
@deanandsambingo
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester mentioned, Mary Winchester mentioned, Crowley mentioned, Balthazar mentioned 
Warnings/tags: creature!Dean, lawyer!Sam, John and Mary still die, Sam and Dean aren't brothers, they're still related, vampire!Dean, show typical language, wincest, John Winchester/Mary Winchester 
 Summary: When Sam's parents are killed in a car accident, he moves back to his home town to take over his dad's law firm. One client might just be a little more than he bargained for. 
Fic Link: A03
Art Link: A03
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itsfirecat · 4 months
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(text description in ALT and below the cut)
Based on some rumblings I heard, I ended up quickly throwing together a fun little WIP bingo sheet! I'll admit I largely wrote the prompts for writing, but I think a good number of them should also apply to art!
Ultimately, the goal is to have fun, and finish whatever WIPs you can (without burning yourself out or having a bad time). If you needed a sign to pick up that project you've been putting off, the time is now!
3x4 Bingo square titled "Finish your fucking fics february"
the top three across left to right read "Update your oldest WIP", "Finish a WIP that's been buried deep in your drafts", and "Finish a WIP that you haven't posted yet"
the second row reads "Finish a recent WIP", "Finish a WIP you're scared of" and "Finish a WIP that's been haunting you"
the third row reads "Update a partially posted WIP", "Finish any WIP/Free Space", and "Finish the next WIP in a series you've been avoiding"
the last row reads "Update your newest WIP", "Finish a WIP that's been ignored for at least 6 months", and "Finish the next chapter for a fic you've been meaning to for months"
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idyllcy · 10 months
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sparkling green eyes, dazzling green lines
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word count: 8.8k
summary: "Habibti." The words slip past his tongue naturally as he reads the text on your wrist, and you stare up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, fascination all over your face— you're in love with him.
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حبيبتي.
You trace it on your skin each morning, gentle smile on your face, dumb like a lovesick idiot. It reminds you that you're loved, even if you have never met your soulmate, ever, in your life. Even when you didn't know, you had panicked and asked your friends if they knew what it was, in which the next seven hours after your seventh birthday was spent crowded around a computer on your iPad, trying to imitate the foreign language on your skin.
After seven hours, your mother, bless her, had noted it was in Arabic. Your father returned home shortly after, helping you translate the word.
Habibti. It meant beloved in Arabic.
Your young heart swelled as your friends gushed over it.
Beloved. Your soulmate calls you beloved at first meeting.
You had clung onto it, heart full and spinning. You told yourself that your soulmate must be a romantic just from the fact that he would call you his love first meeting. You had dreams of a fairy tale meeting, falling in front of him in the hallway during school, accidentally bumping into him while out, a stranger offering you an umbrella in the rain, the list goes on. Your friends had gotten tired of you after the second week, all of them off to find their own soulmates. You didn't know anything about him.
But the passion for finding your soulmate wears off just as fast as it had arrived, quickly realizing that you wouldn't be able to find him if you were in a town where you knew everyone. No one would call you that upon first meeting. Even if it was halfway across the world, you stopped dreaming about meeting your soulmate after you started college. If you wanted to meet him, you'd have to travel. You don't know where, but wherever you were allowed, you went. Even if it emptied your pockets and left you desperate in the streets, you had some of the best experiences of your life, all in the name of looking for your soulmate.
Even at graduation, when you're throwing your cap into the sky with your friends, wrist out for the world to see, the characters traced and colored in gold thanks to your friends, the green of the letters shimmering, you're thankful for everything you've poured your soul into. Your soulmate was someone you no longer craved, the world at your fingertips, a job in your pocket, your life set out before you. Fate was strong in your hands, another string in your life. You followed it with fervor, spinning and chasing after it with some childish will in your life.
You push everything related to your soulmate mark back when you step foot into Wayne Enterprises, nodding slowly at the three men as they welcome you to the team. You had expected the older boys, but you didn't complain. Not when Bruce Wayne himself was part of the three men.
"These are my two sons. Tim Drake, he's my third," You shake Tim's hand. "And Damian Wayne. My youngest."
You smile at him too, taking his hand.
"Habibti." The words slip past his tongue naturally as he reads the text on your wrist, and you stare up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, fascination all over your face. Damian raises a brow at the way you react, breath catching in his throat at how enthralled you are with him, features pulled back, eyes sparkling.
"Woah." You manage, a smile breaking onto your face as the words slip past. Damian does not know you. Hell, he's just met you, yet you were staring at him as if he was your world. You had that lovesick look that he had seen on Dick's face way too many times, and he was getting a little uncomfortable. It must be some sick joke. There's no way his soulmate could look at him like that the first time they meet. Yet, as you stare into his eyes, sun sparkling in your eyes, he finds himself breathless. Shit.
Bruce clears his throat behind the two of you.
"Sorry!" You let go of Damian's hand, the loss of contact knocking the air back into his lungs. "Not many people can read my soulmate mark here in the States. I was just surprised."
"So? Is he your soulmate?" Bruce's lip quirks upward.
Damian lies through his teeth. "No. My words are different."
Tim raises a brow behind Bruce, and Damian gives him a warning look.
"Well, regardless," Bruce hums. "You'll be working closely with my two sons for the next couple of weeks. We're very interested in the medical research you conducted while an undergrad in your major, so we'd like to sponsor your research. Your updates would go to my two sons, and I'll meet with you at the end of the month to see if you need more time."
You nod. "An honor, sir."
"The honor is all ours." Tim smiles, shaking your hand.
"Damian will lead you to the lab."
You follow behind his youngest, eyes still wide, trailing behind him like a lovesick puppy. Even if he wasn't your soulmate, he had called you beloved first meeting. You were enthralled. The two of you step into the elevator, and you wait for the door to close before speaking up.
"Are we really not soulmates?" You blink at him.
He shows you his wrist, your words in brown. "We are."
"Oh." You smile at him again. Damian grimaces at how bright you are. The universe sent him a sun because he was grouchy, didn't it?
"This is the lab you'll be using. It is all yours." He hums. "Requests can be sent through the computer, just type it on the notepad."
You nod, glancing around the room, fidgeting.
"What is it?" He raises a brow.
"You're not big on soulmates, are you?" You smile apologetically.
"Not really."
"Alright. Thank you."
Damian is half expecting you to pester him to the moon and back just based on how you looked at him the first time you met. Instead, you spend most of your time holed up in the lab, desperate to replicate results from your previous study. He can't deny that his heart sours a little at how easily you respect his boundaries, but he asked for it himself, so he finds no reason to complain. Huh, he would have to register the soulmate mark with you.
He knocks on the door to your lab, silence answering him. After a couple of minutes, you open the door.
"Sorry, did I make you wait? I had to put everything back." You blink at him.
"We need to register our soulmate bond."
"Ah. Right." You furrow your brows. "When are you available?"
"Tomorrow after work."
"So like... three?"
"Yes."
"Alright. Should I meet you up at the office?"
"I will come down to find you." He glances at the way none of your hair is visible from the cap.
"Alright." You hum. "See you then."
Damian is grasping at anything he can to try and talk to you. He can't believe he's like this, lovesick like some teenager, desperate to talk to you as if you were the only person that mattered in his life. He feels like Dick. It's awful. He loosens his tie as he stands on the elevator, irritation all over his face.
"You look like shit." Tim clicks his tongue.
"Be quiet, Drake." Damian grumbles.
"Registering your soulmate bond?"
"Yeah." He mumbles. "How did your registration go?"
"Smoothly. I told you."
"If only we had met under better circumstances."
"My soulmate didn't stare at me like I was God." Tim shrugs. "Good afternoon, Mr. Strawn."
The man nods.
The two men shut up as Damian steps off at your floor.
"Hey!" You've taken off all the clothes you wear in the lab, dressed for a date. Damian wonders if he's dressed too formal for this. "I brought all my documents. Do you have yours?"
"The city hall has all of my files on hand."
"Forgot, billionaire and all that." You laugh. "Let's get going."
The two of you hitch the next ride down, Damian taking you to his car, opening your door for you, head racing.
"There is always the possibility of us being platonic soulmates." Damian finds himself speaking up as he fastens his seatbelt.
"Yeah." You purse your lips to think. "Would you be alright with that?"
"We are soulmates. The universe obviously has something planned."
"Then what if we're romantic soulmates?"
"Then I suppose we would have to try." Damian pulls out of the parking garage, handing the guard his ticket, driving off. "Are you against it?"
"Oh, definitely not." You smile. "There is no downside for me."
"Not even the public's eye?"
"I've been scrutinized by my family my whole life." You smile. "I blew all my excess scholarship money on travelling because I wanted to meet my soulmate."
"Where did you go?"
"I went to Palestine, Israel, dropped by at Dubai, Egypt, and then my friends and I drove from Istanbul all the way to Western Europe." You count on your fingers. "I had a lot of people greet us first and then notice the writing on my wrist. The emerald green really stands out. I hadn't expected..." Your voice trails off, eyes staring into his, Damian unable to stare back because of the road. "I hadn't expected your eyes to match so nicely. They're breathtaking."
"Do you speak to everyone like this?"
"No." You hum, looking back outside your window. "But I have been told I have a way with words."
"Yeah?" He stops at the red light, turning to stare at your eyes. "I wonder what your eyes look like under the sun."
"Weren't you staring at them a couple days ago?" You pull out your phone.
"That wasn't directly under the sun." He mumbles, starting the car again.
"Do you speak to everyone like this?"
"No." He breathes. "Just to you."
You try to fight the warmth spreading up your neck to your cheeks, failing miserably as you resort to hiding your face in your hand for the rest of the ride.
"Is there any specific thing we need to do?"
"My brothers mentioned that we need our words scanned, but that was it." He hums. "You have your passport and license, correct?"
"Yeah." You hum. "Is that all I need?"
"Yes." He grabs a ticket and drives down to park, the two of you getting out of his car. "Come on." He leads the way, eyes pining down the paparazzi immediately. You glance in the direction he glared, only for him to move to block you from their view. The two of you make it into the building quicker, the elevator door closing behind the two of you.
"That was?"
"Paparazzi." He fishes out his phone, making a call." Yes. May we head up immediately? We will be there."
You blink as he presses the top floor, and for a second, you understand what it's like to live as a billionaire. A single phone call puts you at priority. You shift uncomfortably when the two of you arrive at the top floor, following Damian as he steps into the mayor's room, letting you sit down first.
"Ah, Mr. Wayne." He smiles, and you detect the lack of sincerity on his face immediately. Rather, the fake smile causes you to sit straighter, a smile lacking equal truth making its way onto your face. Damian shakes the mayor's hand, sitting down as well. "What brings you here?"
"Brought my soulmate to get our mark registered." He hums. "You have all my documents, so this should be quick, correct?"
"Of course. We just need both of your words scanned, and then the soulmate's legal documents — You're quite pretty."
You smile at him, laughing lightly. "Thank you. Here's the passport."
"Not a Gotham born, eh?"
"Nope. Moved here for work."
"Do you plan on staying?"
"Well, since my soulmate is here, I don't think moving is that big of a priority right now." You hum.
"May we have your wrist?"
You hold your wrist out, scanner registering the words, and Damian does the same, your words both popping up on the screen.
"What are the characters?"
"Arabic." Your smile turns sweet, bright, even, and the words come tumbling past your lips, like you had been proud to have those as your words your whole life, holding them dear to your heart. Damian's heart stutters in his chest at how enamored you look.
"Was the "woah" first or second?" The mayor turns to ask Damian.
"After. I had read the characters, and the only reaction I was given was "Woah."" Damian hums. "Are we finished?"
"Yes." The mayor laughs. "It's very much a romantic soulmate. Have the two of you..?"
"Not yet." Damian hums, standing up, holding his hand out for you. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor."
"Pleasure's all mine, Mr. Wayne. I hope to see the both of you at the Wayne gala later this year."
Damian leads you back to the elevator, music filling the air as the two of you stand there in silence.
"When would you like our first date to be?" Damian steps to the side, turning to look at you.
"Oh, um." You frown. "I'm not sure. I'd go, but I already submitted my leave for the weekend. My friend and her soulmate are getting married."
Damian raises a brow. "Not here?"
"They're getting married in the Maldives." You laugh awkwardly. "Her soulmate is loaded."
"More than me?" Damian raises a brow playfully.
"Well, loaded in the millionaire way." You smile. "Not billionaire."
"Do you have a date? Should I go with you?"
"Oh." You pause. "I could bring you, huh?" You press your fingers to your lips, pursing them. "I put down a plus one because I was expecting to bring another friend... I suppose it could be you."
"Did you put down a name?"
"No. They do not have a seating chart."
"Mm." He pauses. "is it too fast?"
"No, no!" You smile. "I'll send you the details... via email?" You grimace at how strange it sounds.
"May I have your phone? I can give you my number."
"Yes." You fish it out for him as he hands you his phone. You type your name in, typing habibti under company. You text yourself as he does with himself. The two of you trade phones back, and you send Damian the packing list and details of the wedding immediately. Damian scrolls through the list, pausing.
"Is there a specific invitation I am required to bring?"
"I have both. I will bring them." You smile. "Any other questions?"
The elevator stops at parking, and Damian leads you out. You make a beeline for the car this time, texting your friend to confirm the guest you would be bringing. She asks you if it's your soulmate, and you tell her to check the Gotham Gazette in the morning. She sends you a flurry of texts.
"Will our soulmate bond get leaked?"
"Perhaps by the paparazzi. Why?"
"I'd like for it to be a good photo of me."
"I will let my publicist know."
You check the news the next morning, beaming at how good you look in the photo. Damian looks protective of you, and as you rush to your lab in the morning, your heart is warm. You're glad he has a good eye for that, at the very least. The groupchat explodes with people looking for you, asking if it was true your soulmate was Damian, your friend private texting you to check if your guest was Damian. You only respond to your friend, confirming his attendance. She tells you she expects an expensive gift out of you, and you snort. You joke about relaying her message to Damian.
You tuck everything away as you get back to your experiment.
The end of the day comes quickly, and as you close the lab for the night, you blink when you stare at Damian at the door. You click on your phone, checking to see if you had missed any messages from him, but nothing appears. You raise a brow as you open the door with all of your stuff. "Something wrong, Mr. Wayne?"
"Damian is fine." He nods. "I was wondering what I should bring for your friend's wedding."
"Mm," You frown. "I was going to bring her a nice bottle of wine from one of my travels, but I'm sure you have something much better than that in the winehouse at your place."
"We do. We have a screaming eagle cabernet from the 90s."
"Woah." You blink. "That sounds like a lot. Isn't that like 500k?"
"We have multiple bottles." He insists. "I can bring one."
You grimace. "If you insist."
"It can be our gift. From the both of us."
"The tabloids have already started calling me a gold digger." You laugh.
"My publicist will take care of that. I will have father get you one."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He hums. "Where do you live? I can drive you home."
"Um." You give him your address. It takes him a moment to figure out where you live, and then the two of you are off.
"I will send someone for you tomorrow," He hums. "We can take the private jet. I already got your tickets refunded."
"Oh. Wow." You blink at him in awe. "That's really kind. Thank you."
"No worries." He hums. "You should get used to it."
"Do all your brothers spoil their soulmates like that?"
"Grayson, the eldest," Damian grumbles. "worships the ground his soulmate steps on. Todd does the same, though less obvious about it. Drake's known his soulmate forever so the two of them click too well. Duke and his soulmate are platonic soulmates, but the two of them get along far better than we do as a family. Steph and Cass both have not found their soulmates and father..." he pauses. "father and his soulmate are... an interesting two."
"So your family all spoil their soulmates?"
"There is nothing out of reach with the amount of money we have. It is not spoiling if we are simply letting them get whatever they want because it is not a burden on us financially." Damian takes a turn. "We do not consider it spoiling."
"That's sweet." You smile. "How big were their rings?"
"Grayson's soulmate got the biggest diamond in existence. None of us could believe our eyes." Damian hums. "How big of a diamond would you want?"
"I'd like you to hand make a ring for me." You grin. "Of course, if you don't have time, I want something the color of your eyes to match my soulmate mark."
"Why not both?" He stops at the door to your apartment.
"How about you?" You open the door, tilting your head at him.
"Whatever color your eyes are."
You hate how good he is with his words.
Damian drives home, your words in the back of his mind. A handmade ring. Maybe you'd be willing to wear his name on your skin if he makes you a ring with a gem the color of his eye. Though, he'd be rushing. Even if his skin burned to touch you and his heart raced to be held by you, he did not wish to rush it. Messing up with you was far scarier than getting hurt during patrol.
He texts the family chat that he would be using the jet the next day, to which Dick had asked eagerly where he was going. Damian leaves him on read. He finds you at the door in the morning the next day, taking your suitcase from you as you yawn.
"Did you have breakfast yet?"
You blink at him, rubbing your eyes. "No. Do you have food?"
"You can have some of Grayson's cereal."
You blink harder as he hands you a bowl with the cereal and milk, and you stare at the cereal brand.
"Wow. The amount of sugar in this could kill someone."
"Some days I wish it were enough to kill Grayson."
You pour out a little bit of the cereal, pouring the milk in, and then dig in. You read the ingredients as Damian goes upstairs, pulling his own luggage down the stairs, meeting you back in the kitchen when you finish. You clean the dishes, setting them to the side as Damian comes to get you.
"You did not need to wash the dishes."
"I didn't want to leave a mess." You reason.
"It's fine. We're leaving now. You ready?"
"Yeah." You grin. "Is takeoff rough?"
"It's very smooth." He hums. "I gave the pilot the address and everything already. We land in around three hours."
"Alright." You hum.
The jet, plane, was huge. You blink in surprise at the size as Damian leads you up the steps, and you blink quietly. "Woah."
"Surprised?"
"What's the use of having such a large plane? Isn't the carbon footprint huge?"
"We usually fly first class, but I figured since your friends all wanted to see what kind of a person you were dating, I shouldn't be stingy." Damian hums.
"There's really no need." You laugh.
"Also, more privacy." He hums. "I figured you deserve to know what kind of life I live outside of the tabloids."
You tilt your head at him. "Are you going to tell me you're Batman or something?"
The plane door shuts behind him, and he exhales.
"Robin."
Your eyes widen, lips pursing, surprise on your face.
"Is that too much too quick?"
"No." You pause. "No. That's. That's actually kind of hot."
Damian raises a brow.
"Are you still Robin? Because I think—"
"No," Damian shakes his head. "I run around with another name now, already graduated from the title, but I thought I would tell you since."
"Yeah." You exhale. "What about the weekend?"
"Todd and Drake are here. There is no need to fret."
"So your whole family is in on the business?"
"Yes."
"Wow." You mumble. "That's..."
Damian braces himself for the worst. He doesn't know why, your face is far from disgusted or terrified, but he still does. Maybe you would reject him or tell him to stop. That would be a nightmare.
"And you like doing it?"
"Yes." He raises a brow.
"Um, please don't come back to me dead. Ever. Please." You scratch your cheek. "If you like doing it, then I won't stop you. I'd just prefer you don't die on the job."
"Do not worry. If I were to die, my mother would simply drop me into the Lazarus pit." Damian jokes.
"That's some lore drop there." You blink. "That's real?"
"Yes." He raises a brow. "For the same reason my grandfather is immortal, by the same logic, so would I."
"Woah." You mumble. "I heard rumors of it when I was travelling. I didn't know it existed."
"Fountain of youth."
"Is that why you look so good?"
"No." He shakes his head. "I take care of myself."
"I don't doubt that." You smile.
"And you?"
"I told you I travel." You nod. "Oh, it might be good to tell you about the friend getting married."
You tell him details about how the two of you met, telling him about your other friends at the same time, mumbling about how you thought her soulmate was actually an asshole just from the way he treated her friends, and then casually mentioning his name, Damian blinking.
"Do you know him?"
"Drake has done business with his family before."
"His family's a nightmare. The only reason I'm going is because my friend is an angel. I wouldn't go for any other reason."
Damian finds peace in the way your voice floods his senses, gathering intel on your friends, understanding who he had to avoid and who he could make small talk with. He had a feeling he'd know a couple of the people there from the groom's side, and from the way you talked about him, it wouldn't be pleasant if they found out he was your soulmate. Despite that, he finds that there is no need to worry too much. You were close to the bride's side. That's all that seemed to matter to you. You pause at some point, almost as if you were thinking of something.
"Something wrong?"
"We brought the wine, right?"
"Yes. I had the servants bring it."
"Alright." You mumble. "I'm not looking forward to what the groom has to say to me about you."
"I will stay next to you the whole time. My publicist will deal with everything."
"Speaking of which, who is your publicist?"
Damian smiles. "Grayson's soulmate."
"Ahhh." You laugh. That checks out.
There's not much jetlag when the two of you land, and you stare at the afternoon sun through your shades, hand held up. It's nice and warm, a contrast to the spring weather in Gotham. Damian leads you to the car, making a call as he does, handing you the tablet for you to choose which suite to get upgraded to.
"Are we sharing a bed?" You blink at him.
"We can order a room with two beds if you'd like."
"Would that be rude?"
"Not at all."
Damian finds that you've selected a room with a king bed instead, noticing the way your ears were flushed as you stared out the window. He confirms with the hotel on the call, putting the charge on his father's card. He wondered if you would call this spoiling. His brothers had told him that his soulmate deserved the best treatment, and Damian couldn't really tell what they had meant. He never lived a normal life. He wasn't sure if his normal was their best or if there was something better that he could give them. He opts for staring at your face instead, taking in your features.
"The upgrade." He swallows. "It is alright, right?"
"Yes." You smile at him. "It's more than okay. Thank you, a lot."
"The best, for you." He mumbles.
The two of you settle into the hotel room. Damian glances at the clothes you bring, exhaling quietly to himself when he realizes he brought a decent palette of clothes. The wedding's theme was lavender, and he was starting to get worried that he wouldn't be able to match with you at all, but he's happy to find that you've got colors similar to his.
"Do I need to call you anything?"
"It'd be funny if you call me habibti," You grin. "The bride is a friend from when I first got my soulmate mark. She was there when we tried searching up what the word on my wrist meant."
"Ah. You go back a long time."
"A very long time." You smile. "What was it like for you? Seeing your soulmate mark?"
"My family was in my room at midnight, including my mother, and everyone groaned when I got the most generic word ever. They thought I would never find my soulmate. Todd joked that my soulmate must be blown away by my face." He hums in amusement, noticing you avert your gaze. "I still owe him twenty. Dick's soulmate word was "hello" and only Drake had something remotely entertaining."
"What was it? If you don't mind me asking." You blink at him.
"I quote "We should get married." It was quite the sentence." Damian chuckles.
"That sounds funny." Your lips pull up into a smile. "I had a friend get "we should fuck" as their first sentence. Then I found out my best friend at the time had "Yo." as theirs."
"Did you like your first line?"
"I did." You beam at him, unclasping the clip for your suitcase. "I loved it. When my father told me it meant darling or my love in Arabic, I was elated. I thought my soulmate would be the most romantic man in the world, and I was ecstatic."
"Am I?" Damian raises a brow as you pull out a dress.
"Yes." Your smile stretches impossibly wider. "I'm very happy."
"I'm happy to hear that. What's the dress code for tonight?"
"You brought a polo, right? Rich boy, old money vibes. Polo shirt and khakis."
"Got it." He nods. "What color will you be wearing?"
"Everything I brought is some variation of the color palette for the wedding," You hum. "I'll be wearing this."
"I am sure you'll look dashing in it, habibti." He smiles.
You flush at the word, hiding your face in your dress.
"Is it too much?"
"No." You smile at him. "Just enough. I'll get used to it."
Damian wonders what kind of friends you had at seven. Yet, he finds himself blinking in surprise when the two of you arrive at the event.
"Woah, he's an item..." Your friend's jaw drops, patting your shoulders gently. "Damian Wayne? Pleasure to meet you. I'm your soulmate's best friend."
"No, I am." Another friend butts in.
"You're all wrong." The bride scoffs playfully. "I am."
Damian nods at them.
"We'll bring the gift tomorrow at the wedding." You smile at the bride, rushing off with them as Damian heads over to the side, making small talk with who he assumed the groom was. He finds himself with his eyes on you the whole night, only sparing glances at the people he was talking to when you would stare back at him. You look pretty. He understands why his brothers had clicked with their soulmates so quickly now. He excuses himself at some point, pressing his chest to your back, hand resting on your waist.
"Having fun? That's your second margarita, not to mention your cocktails."
You grin at him, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "It's actually my fourth."
"I think that is enough." He hums. "There's still a dinner."
"I can hold my alcohol." You mumble, and Damian takes the glass from your hand, downing the whole thing in one gulp. You blink at him, wide-eyed. "Woah."
"Let's get you seated, hm? Dinner starts soon. Cocktail hour is for after the dinner."
"Can I bring a drink to our room later?" You mumble.
"Yes." He excuses the two of you from the bride, settling down where your names were put, and he presses a patch into your skin, rubbing your arm as he waits for the neutralizer to course through your system. He probably should have asked if you were okay with it, but he has one on himself, so it's not like he was actively trying to drug you. You turn your head when you notice him rubbing the patch onto your skin, mind clearing a little.
"What is that?"
"Neutralizer. It helps with filtering alcohol."
"Oh, it works." You grin at him. "Thank you."
"Of course. I have one in my arm too."
"That sure explains why you didn't pass out from the sheer glasses of champagne you were having." You mumble.
"Who's at our table?"
"Two other girls and their soulmates. The two girls that were next to the bride and I earlier."
"Alright." He hums, letting his hand fall down to your side, staring at you as you wave your friends over. "Any exes?"
"Nope. I didn't date anyone that didn't greet me with what was on my wrist. It was pretty easy, considering that most people are ignorant. I also kept a bracelet around my wrist for the most part." You smile. "You?"
"Two. Maybe. I do not know if they count. I hooked up with them while..."
"In costume?"
"yeah."
You shrug, starting a conversation with your friend instead, catching up with her. Damian listens briefly, eyes focused on you instead, enamored with you. He's hopeless, he decides. He has no saving grace from you. He doesn't get to make fun of his brothers anymore, not when he was just like them. Your friends take notice of it, smiling when he notices their gaze. You're loved. Just from the way your friends had smiled at him and then at you, you're loved. He understands why. It'd be hard not to love you.
You excuse yourself early, exhaustion from the plane setting in late, Damian helping you up and leading the two of you back. You let the bride know with a hand on her back, and she shoos you away playfully, mumbling about how you should use protection. You sigh dramatically, telling her you'd make her an aunt on purpose. It was a joke from the way you had said it, but Damian wonders if you'd actually want kids of your own — shit, his brain was moving fast. He barely knows you.
"Were you actually tired?"
"Any longer and you would've seen how embarrassing my friends get when drunk." You mumble. "Embarassing bunch."
"How embarrassing?" He raises a brow. "My brothers are a nightmare when drunk as well."
"They won't shut up." You press your keycard on the lock. "About me."
"They love you a lot."
"They do." You turn to smile at Damian. "And I love them too, even if they don't shut up about my embarrassing stories when drunk. They're probably embarrassing the bride instead though."
"That would make more sense."
"They kept trying to get people to read the writing on my wrist last time." You hum. "That was after grad."
"So recently."
"Yeah. No one was able to read it." You laugh. "And the ones who could, they didn't say it to me. They called my friends habibti."
"You do not say it with an accent." Damian notices. "Habibti."
"Huh?" You pause while rummaging for your sleepwear. "Oh, yeah. I... my parents got me an Arabic teacher for a little while because I wanted to learn when I first got my mark. I've also visited... a lot of the countries? In part it's because I'd repeat the word to myself until I feel asleep until like..." You avert your gaze, going back to your suitcase. Damian notices you start flushing. "end of high school?"
"Ten years?" Damian exhales. "You whispered your word to yourself before bed for ten years?"
"Yeah." You finally find your pajamas in the baggage. "A little bit of a hopeless romantic, huh?"
Damian doesn't answer you, staring into your eyes instead, unmoving, barely blinking.
"Is it that bad?"
Damian breaks from his trance. "No. Not at all. It's..." endearing — but he can't say that, so he offers you a nod instead. He curses himself for the lack of game when it came to you, but as you rush to change in the bathroom, he sighs. It's hopeless. He's enamored. He understands why you had stared up at him with your pupils blown wide and lips parted upon first meeting. He does the same now, staring down at you like you were his everything, even if he knew barely anything about you outside of what you had told him. Well, he could always ask Drake to hack and gather intel on you. But it'd be a breach of privacy that he didn't want to cross with you. Ugh.
He pushes his hair back in frustration, opting for clearing his mind with work instead. Even if he had taken the weekend off with you, he should really do something that isn't thinking of all the ways he'd have your skin pressed to his at night — no, fuck. Damian opens his laptop, clicks on his VPN and the wifi, sorting through the emails from the WE teams instead. He barely notices the sound of the bathroom door opening and you step out with your sleepwear on. At some point, Tim texts him to get off his emails and enjoy the time with you, threatening to bench him. Damian grimaces, wondering how he could get benched in a company situation, but he doesn't argue back. He was trying to avoid talking to you, after all.
You're in bed on your phone, scrolling through something.
"What are you looking at?" Damian settles on his side of the bed.
"I'm watching my friend's wedding tiktoks." You smile, rolling over to show him. "The preparation ones. She's going to make more tomorrow."
Damian hums. "Can I put an arm around your waist? My arm..."
"Yeah." You grin. "You can touch me."
Damian's breath catches in his throat at how straightforward you are, arm wrapping around your torso slowly, resting his chin on your head, glancing down at your phone.
"Do you think about weddings?"
You close your phone, plugging it back in on the strand, settling yourself in Damian's arms. "Sometimes."
"What kind do you want?"
"I want your name on my skin at the wedding," You mumble, eyes already closed.
"Like bridal henna?"
"Mhm."
Damian struggles to sleep the whole night because of your words. Though, it's not like he's gone without sleep before. Instead, he spends the night matching his breathing to yours, wrapping his arms tighter around you, taking in the scent of your shampoo. At some point his eyes close, body betraying him and falling to the need. He wakes up to you shifting in his arms, turning around to get a look at his face better, lashes blinking on his skin, eyes staring up at him, sun reflecting in them.
Damian's breath hitches, and in his morning stupor, he rests his forehead on yours, staring into your eyes, nose touching yours, the love of the universe in the way he looks at you. His shoulders relax as he continues looking, sure that his pupils have expanded beyond repair, utterly enamored with how you looked in the morning. His arms squeeze around your waist affectionately, moving to bury his head into the crook of your neck, exhaling as he does.
"Good morning." He feels you smile.
"Good morning to you too, habibti." He mumbles back, smile mirroring yours, he's sure.
The wedding moves without too big of an issue, the two of you bring the wine and leave it at the gift table, Damian sits next to you the whole time, watching as you get the bouquet practically launched at you, catching it with a flinch, chasing after the bride with the bouquet as a weapon, messing up your hair in the meantime but getting a laugh out of it. Damian stands to the side, talking only briefly with the groom's family, introducing himself as your soulmate, not Damian Wayne. He was yours first before he was a businessman now. Yours. It rings nicely in his head. He was yours. He would be fine with that — being yours.
At some point you return to Damian's side, sighing with the bouquet in hand.
"When's our wedding?" You joke, putting the bouquet on the table.
"It'll take a while." Damian hums, smoothing out your hair for you. "We still have to date and get engaged."
"I should've dodged."
"You wouldn't have been able to. Your friend did it on purpose." Damian mumbles, finishing with your hair.
"Is it alright?"
"Yes." He presses his lips to your forehead. "You look great, habibti."
You smile at him, the moon behind you this time.
"When do we fly?"
"I booked the plane for tomorrow." Damian hums. "We can sleep in."
"Oh, bless." You grumble. "The shoes are killing me."
"Would you like mine?" He offers. "Or would you like for me to carry you back?"
You pause, glancing at the emptier hall.
"I wouldn't dare let you take off your shoes for me." You smile at him.
"Sit, please," and you do, settling down as Damian gets on a knee, slipping your heels from your feet, holding onto them with one hand, the other hooking under your knees as he tells you to wrap your arms around his neck. You yelp as he does, and you wave bye to the bride as he settles you in his arms bridal style, your arms around his neck for support as he holds onto your shoes.
"Please don't drop me." You mumble.
"I wouldn't dare." He steps toward the elevator, pressing your floor as you pull the room card out from your pocket. (you had shown him before, with a spin, that your dress had pockets. Damian made a note to remember you liked them.)
He sets you on bed, loosening his tie and placing your heels down by your shoes, taking off his blazer to hang up in the closet. He watches you shimmy out of the dress, naked form to his eyes, breath catching in his throat at the way the moonlight illuminates your skin. He doesn't move, watching as you pull the robe from next to him, body on autopilot as you step into the showers. He'd wash up after you, unbuttoning his shirt and ditching his pants, sorting through his own luggage to find a change of clothes.
You open the door to the bathroom, robe on, blinking at his bare back.
"You're built like a wall." You blurt.
"Am I?" Damian hums.
"Does this come with your family or something? All of you are HUGE." You rub the towel through your hair.
"I suppose it does." Damian stands up, change of clothes in hand. "It's also from the training."
"For night?" You try your best to be vague. Damian appreciates it.
"Yes." He nods. "Would you like to see when we get back?"
"Sure." You grin. "Is it big?"
"It's a cave." Damian closes the door to the bathroom.
"Woah." You mumble. "Wild."
You settle yourself in the bed, back on your phone, yawning as you respond to a couple texts, scrolling through your email, checking the CCTV footage of the experiment you were doing. You had someone checking to see if the experiment was working, and from what they had told you, everything had replicated perfectly. You let out a sigh of relief when you found out. It would be fine. You'd finish with it, and then you'd retire somewhere with the money promised you in the contract. You worked hard for the moment.
You feel the bed dip behind you.
"Looking at the updates?"
"The experiment is moving faster than before." You mumble. "I should be able to report to your father in around a week."
"And then?"
You blink. "Not sure. I was thinking of finding a high rise to live in."
"Not with me?" Damian wraps his arms around you, getting comfortable.
"Don't you still live in the manor?"
"It's comfortable there." He mumbles. "I also have an empty apartment of my own. Would you like to move there?"
"Would you move in with me?" You turn to face him, phone on the nightstand.
"If you'd like."
"Yes, please," You grin. "If you'd like."
"Then I'd love to." He mumbles, reaching over you to close the light.
Damian takes you to the Batcave first, having the servants take your stuff to the apartment without asking you, adjusting the grandfather clock and letting you inside the cave, shutting it behind him. The two of you arrive right before patrol, and you get to meet all of his siblings. All of them. Even Nightwing.
"Who's this?"
"Soulmate." Tim doesn't bother looking at you, pressing his mask on. "Showing her around already? And you call us whipped."
"Shut up, Drake." Damian spits.
"Are you on duty tonight?"
"We take turns." Damian hums.
"Are any of these liquids active?" You stare at the tubes.
"Those two are for Ivy when she attacks. Less these days, but she occasionally strikes us with sex pollen for fun. Those are neutralizers. That one's for Scarecrow's fear toxin, and that one—"
You nod along as Damian explains everything to you, waving at his siblings as they head off for patrol.
"Are you tomorrow?"
"Yes." He hums. "Did you want to come along?"
"That's too dangerous." Batman speaks up, and you pause.
"Mr. Wayne." You smile politely. "Didn't peg you to be the type to run around to try and fix crime."
"Desperate times call for desperate situations." He chuckles. "Damian, take care of her. The computer is off limits."
"Yes, father." Damian nods as he disappears too.
"Who's on patrol tomorrow?"
"Father goes every night, and then tomorrow is Spoiler, Orphan, Signal, and I."
"SOS..." You mumble quietly. "Sors. Ross. Ross."
Damian raises a brow.
"Your names." You smile. "You would be team Ross."
"If that makes you happy." He leads you back up the stairs.
"Do you have an intercom?"
"Oracle. She works every night."
"Is she a sibling?"
"No. She used to be Batgirl."
"mm." You nod slowly. "Oh, it's late, huh? I should probably head home."
"You can stay here for the night. I had the servants send your luggage to my apartment. I can drive the two of us to work tomorrow." Damian shuts the clock behind the two of you.
"You have the same hours as us?"
"Yes."
"Speaking of which, how come you and Tim don't go to work together?"
"Tim does not live in the manor. He lives with his soulmate." He leads you to his room. "This is my room. Make yourself comfortable."
You mumble something under your breath about how big the bed is before you head over to the bathroom to wash up. "Are there pajamas I can borrow?" You peek from the door.
"I'll leave them on the bed." He pulls a shirt and clean boxers from his closet, setting them on the bed, settling at his desk, reading through what he would be meeting about the next day. He had hoped Tim would've taken care of the meetings over the weekend, but he supposes he can't avoid everything. It's painfully boring. The meetings are always boring.
"Whatcha looking at?" You come out with a towel in your hair, maneuvering his shirt onto you, putting on his boxers. It's a size too big, and you have to use a hair tie to keep it in place.
"I have a meeting tomorrow."
You shudder. "I don't miss having meetings."
"Did you intern somewhere else?"
"I interned in England for a bit." You lean over his shoulder, staring at the meeting details. "Oh, on the product."
"Yes, the new birth control we're trying to release. The injection."
"It would be helpful. I can't say blocking hormones is good for the body." You mumble. "Does it work on males?"
"We're releasing both versions."
"That's good." You mumble. "It'd be really helpful."
"Dick's soulmate made us read through the entire list of possible side effects of birth control and scared us half to death." Damian hums. "Even father."
"I read through it once."
"Do you take birth control?"
"Nope. Never slept with anyone, didn't plan on sleeping with people." You shrug. "You?"
Damian pauses. "I haven't either."
"Oh, really?" You mumble. "You've dated before."
"Hooked up." He corrects. "I always felt bad after kissing."
You laugh. "That was the universe telling you no."
"Perhaps." He shrugs. "Let's get to bed."
You barely see Damian after that, the two of you busy with your own affairs in the company, busy with moving your stuff into the apartment outside of work. Damian drives you home and helps you with the boxes, but the two of you don't have substantial conversation. Even when you finish the trials and present everything to the board, Damian doesn't get to have a moment with you, invitations to speak at colleges and other locations flooding into your mail. Damian finally catches you as you finish moving into the apartment.
"Habibti." He breathes, arms wrapping around your shoulders, head resting on your head. "I was looking for you."
"You could've called." You smile at him, voice muffled by his chest.
"You were not answering."
"My bad." You wiggle to loosen his arms, smile on your face. "Bruce transferred the money to my account. I'll be taking a break for a bit before I go speak at all those invitations."
"I am going to retire." He grumbles. "I never get to see you."
"We live together." You grin. "You get to see me every day now."
"Not enough." He mumbles. "I will leave Drake to deal with the family business."
"You're needed, you know? They need you for all the charity you guys do now." You pat his chest gently. "All of the animal shelters you volunteer at too."
"Would you like to visit one with me? There's an event tomorrow at the shelter to bring a friend."
"Oh, so I'm just a friend to you?" You tilt your head at him playfully.
"A friend," He presses a kiss to the corner of your left eye. "Habibti," He presses another kiss to the corner of your right eye. "And my soulmate." He rests his forehead on yours, hands on your face, eyes on your lips. "May I?"
You press your lips to his in response.
You're a work of art. Damian finds himself with an arm around your waist much more than he could have ever thought, his own life mingled with yours to the point of no return. You meant so much to him. You were the world to him. Fingers laced with yours at events, lips pressed to your hair in the rays of the morning sun, there was little to complain about and everything to be grateful for. His own little ray of the sun to make his life a little better.
Which is why he finds himself checking for the quality of the diamond, discussing the price of the gem with the dealer, running it through tests just to make sure it was the best. The emeralds he picks are hand-selected too, calling his mother as she teaches him how to discern between the good ones and bad ones. You were still yet to meet her, but for some reason, she had not asked questions, only wishing him luck on the proposal. It would take a while between everything he had on his hands.
"You've been coming back later these days." You hum, resting your head on his chest.
"My apologies, habibti," He mumbles. "I've been busy."
"Even on the nights you don't patrol?"
"Yes." He mumbles. "I am not cheating, if you are worried."
"I wouldn't think of it." You close your eyes. "I trust you."
"I love you, a lot." He whispers, wrapping his fingers around your ring finger.
"I love you too." You mumble back, curling the finger.
Damian struggles with the first two prototypes, fingers too rough against the metal, groaning as he fails again, the jeweler only laughs affectionately, assuring him he would be fine. He tries again and again until the mold comes out how he wants it to look, the gold chosen so that it wouldn't rust. The chances of you wearing your engagement ring while working were rare, but he still wanted to guarantee that it would not rust quickly. You deserved the world, and he'd make sure of it, even in something as simple as the ring he would give you.
On his seventh try, he gets a mold that leaves him satisfied. He had gotten your ring finger fitted before on top of his nightly routine of wrapping his fingers around it, and he was sure it would fit. The gems arrive cut out perfectly, the green diamond compared to his eyes by Dick and his brothers' soulmates a hundred times, assuring him that the color matched his eyes perfectly. Damian almost got his eyes color matched had it not been Bruce himself stepping in, assuring him that it matched his eyes well. The emeralds would match his eyes in different lighting. He was fine. Only then did Damian let the jeweler settle the diamonds into the ring, making sure that the gems wouldn't just tumble out. Not that he didn't trust the jeweler — he was worried it'd fall out on accident — alright, he doesn't trust the jeweler.
On the day the ring was completed, Damian had checked it under the light, mumbling to himself about how he hoped you like it. He had made it by hand as you told him you wanted him to, and the gems were all hand selected and picked to match his eyes. You'd be happy with it no matter what he gives you as an engagement ring, he's sure, but he had held your words close to his heart. You deserved an engagement ring you had dreamed of as a child. On the inside of the band, habibti is written in Arabic, a reminder of your soulmate bond, his heart full.
"You're home on time for once!" You beam, throwing your arms around his neck.
"I missed you, habibti." He mumbles, arms wrapped around your waist.
"I made dinner for us since you promised you'd be home today." You pull him along.
As he follows you, the ring in his back pocket feels lighter, your fingers curled around his, lips pulled into a dazzling smile.
He's yours.
From the known past to the unpredictable future, he was yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
2K notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 3 months
Text
Auralism
✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️
Does this tiktok do something to you?
If you listen to his voice and suddenly feel true sexual arousal, you may have a form of Auralism. Auralism is the sexual arousal to sound. It could be voices, music, an ASMR trigger, etc. The most common in females is arousal from voices, and that's what I will be working with today. So, whoever your dream man saying "Hello Feyre Darling," is, I need you to think about him as you are reading this.
Auralism is a way of practicing what sex experts call "mindful sensuality" or the practice of using certain skills to enhance emotional and mental erotica. This typically involves using more senses than just touch and vision. Auralism focuses on specifically the sound aspect and a bit of imagination.
💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕
As always, NSFW below the cut
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Rhysand x Reader
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Warnings - degradation, dirty talk, slight voyeurism, inferred poly!batboys
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Being High Lady of the Night Court held several responsibilities, but your least favorite was, and would always be, the Court of Nightmares. 
Rhys kissed you one more time as the doors to the throne room sat closed. “We'll finish what we started later, I promise. I will not leave you unsatisfied for long.”
Gods, that timber. The purr. You felt his voice setting heat through your body and did the best to push the feeling away. 
Rhys held the wine glass to your lips, watching you drink it as his hand ran the length of your inner thigh. His gaze went back to Keir, his eyes almost narrowing. “The High lady looks beautiful tonight, nephew.” 
You felt the predatory shift in Rhys, felt the mating bond grow tight. “My mate is always delicious, uncle. You'd be smart to remove your eyes from her.” His voice went straight to your cunt this time, a wave of heat landing there. Oh really? His high lord voice always turned you on, the command of it, the strict tone. 
Keir nodded, walking away, just as your thighs pushed together. His lips brushed your ear, that deep voice hitting you again. “I see I may have left you too desperate, my star.” His hand trailed the valley of your breasts, settling on your lower stomach. “I do wonder if I can get you off just from speaking. Is that possible, darling? To have you come on my lap with such little effort?”
You whimpered again. Head falling into his shoulder. Each letter off his tongue was dipped in honey, sending wave after wave of arousal through you. You kept your thighs together now, knowing in this dress spreading them would put your glistening core on display. 
As if he sensed your feelings, he pushed them apart slightly, a growl escaping him and his eyes growing dark as he looked. “Cauldron boil me, you will cum from this, won't you? Have you gotten too good at playing the role of my whore, y/n darling? Should I fuck on you on this throne and let everyone watch?”
“Rhys,” it was meant to be a warning to stop, but it came out as a soft moan. 
“You'll be saying my name over and over later, begging me to keep going as I fuck you so hard our bed breaks. You always feel so good, wrapped tight around my cock.”
Your core clenched, the coil starting to slowly build. “-and look at you now,” he continued. “Wearing an expensive dress, dripping onto my thigh. When this damned party is over, I will bend you over this throne.”
You moaned his name again. That purr was doing something to you that you've never had happen. “I bet if I spread your legs further, Azriel would be able to see how wet you are from his spot at the back of the room. Cassian can probably smell and taste you.” 
The general had a small smirk on his face as he kept his spot behind Rhysand and the throne. Azriel had his eyes locked in you two, a single brow kissing his hairline. 
“I might let them stay and watch if you wanted. Let them watch me claim you over and over until you're soaking me. Once I'm done with you, maybe I'll let them play too."
“Rhys-” You were so close, snuggling further into his lap, thighs pressed back together and rubbing. 
“Uh-uh,” his hand pushed them apart enough for his pleasure again. “Your High Lord wants to see how desperate his whore is. Gods, look at you. Look at you clenching at nothing, about to cum from my voice alone.”
His name left your throat in a quiet needing moan and Cassian looked down with a full smirk now. A voice cold as death came from the other side of him. A voice Rhys knew you found attractive. “Release my High Lady from her misery.”
“Cum for me,” Rhysand whispered into your ear, kissing the shell of it gently. “Cum for us.”
The coil snapped, your back arching against his chest as Cassian placed a hand over your mouth. “And now look at you, coming with no effort on my part, forcing our general to have to cover your mouth so I don't have to kill everyone here to getting to listen to the noises that are for me and me alone. Pathetic little thing, aren't you?"
Rhys switched to his High Lord voice again. “Cassian, take the High Lady somewhere to clean her up.” 
Cassian nodded, picking you up from Rhysand's lap as your high ended. “Come, my lady, let me take care of you.”
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr
Valentines Day Taglist:
@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb
@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads
@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath
Rhys Taglist:
@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads
427 notes · View notes
Note
♫ 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡… TASM!Peter Parker with the bingo prompt ‘himbo’?
alright, so the thing is I feel like peter is really book smart but he is so oblivious otherwise, like if someone flirts with him it goes completely over his head. so reader has been his best friend for years and recently has been trying to drop hints that she likes him, and eventually she gets fed up of him being so oblivious that she just kisses him and he gets all whiney and then they do the devils tango (i am so sorry i’m really awkward when requesting 😭) but could there also be a size and praise kink, as well as an oral fixation? (if you don’t feel comfy pls delete this!!)
i hope u have a good day/night 💕
—𓆩[my beautiful idiot]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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nvm anon honey i couldn't sleep without posting this, i hope you enjoy it!!!
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Best Friend! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.7K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter have been best friends for what seemed like eternity, and has been in love with you for what seemed like forever, but he’s not going to give up — no matter how much it seems like you don’t like him back. The kid you babysit though that is way too old to be babysat disagrees though, and tries to show him how much you were in love with him too.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - crossover time|| heavily inspired by this interview/edit with Will Poulter (love him so much) || cursing & foul language || mentions of violence || Peter gets hurt || whiny Peter is best Peter || smut warnings include oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, praise, size kink, breeding kink, oral fixation, possessiveness, marking kink, biting, hickies, possibly more?
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Miles was a helpless bystander between the two of you. It never worked out, not whenever Peter was too stupidly in love with you he never saw the hints that you dropped.
“Peter, I’m telling you, she’s in love with you!” Miles wanted to strangle the other Spider-Man, very very violently.
“I don’t… I don’t think she is,” Peter mumbles, a pout on his lips as he swirled pasta around his fork, one that you often made because it was his favorite. Was that not hint enough? You knew his favorite fucking pasta! “I don’t think I’m her type.”
“Who’s type?” You walked into the living room, plate in hand full of the cream based pasta you made on the side.
“Yours! Your type!” Miles grins. “Your type.”
“My type?” You hummed, thinking as you tap your chin. “My type… would be smart. Handsome, funny. Nerdy,” you look over at Peter who was still pouting. “Loves pasta.”
Miles slurps up some of the noodles, nodding. “I wonder who that could be!”
“Yeah, I wonder,” Peter mumbles, face falling as he scooped pasta into his mouth. “I wonder.”
“Really? In this room?!” Miles yells, moving his hands to gesture around the apartment. “I wonder?!”
Peter looked around, eyes narrowing. “You like Miles?”
How the fuck could he be so stupid?
“That’s it! I’m done!” Miles stood, looking at you. “He’s hopeless! Completely and utterly hopeless!”
You sigh, standing up too. “I could’ve told you that.”
You go around the couch, taking Peter’s finished plate of food as his face scrunches. “Who’s hopeless?”
“Oh baby,” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. He didn’t think much of it, you did kiss him on the cheek often. “You are. You’re such a himbo.”
“A what? What’s a himbo?”
“It’s like… a beautiful idiot,” you press another kiss to his cheek, pulling back his chestnut hair from his face. “You’re my beautiful idiot.”
He pours as you walk away, Miles shouting out a goodbye as you finish your food and start cleaning up the dishes.
He didn’t want to be your ‘beautiful idiot’ — he wanted to be yours, overall and absolutely, he wanted to tick every box you ever wanted, he wanted to be yours. If he could, he’d want you to mark him as yours for forever and eternity, he just wanted you. He wanted a mark on him that said you owned him, just like you owned his heart for what seemed like forever.
“Peter? Don’t you have to go on patrol?” You yell out, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m going!” He goes into your room because he basically lived with you at this point, grabbing his suit and getting dressed with the door open.
“Peter?” You’re standing at the doorway, arms crossed as he stumbled into his suit, trying his best not to fall on his face. “Miles’ parents invited us over for dinner. I told them yes, you promise not to be late?”
“Yeah, I promise,” he grunted breathlessly as he quickly finished putting on his suit, looking around. “Where’s my mask?”
“Peter,” you say again, more stern this time as you walk over, bending down to pick up something from the ground. He froze when you stood in front of him, fixing his suit before handing him the mask. “Promise me you won’t be late.”
He smiled down at you, wide and his honey brown eyes shining. “I promise. Do I dress nice or casual?”
“Nicer than casual,” you say with a sigh, your hands rubbing against his chest to flatten out the suit, thinking about the fact he wore nothing underneath it. “I’m going to go over there early to help Rio cook, but I need you there by seven. Did you hear that? By seven. Dinner starts at seven-thirty, but I need you there by seven.”
He smiled, leaning down teasingly. “Yes ma’am. Whatever you say, I’ll be there by seven.”
You sigh, a smile on your face as you pat his chest. “Be safe, and take care of Miles if he tags along, okay?”
“I will.”
You both stay there for a few seconds, his eyes staring at your lips as you worriedly push your hands through his hair. You did it often, so much so that it became something you didn’t have to think about doing, or it was something you did when you were nervous.
What you both did were couple things, why weren’t you together? It was because Peter was too much of a beautiful idiot to know otherwise.
“Promise me you’ll be safe, and protect Miles if he goes. Don’t eat on your patrol, Rio is making the best food ever. And you have to be there by seven.”
“I promise,” he pushed your hair back behind your ear, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at seven.”
“By seven!” You yell as he jumps out the window, sighing with a smile. “I swear, if you weren’t hot I would’ve stopped trying by now.”
It was seven-ten. Seven-fucking-ten. You helped Rio make arroz con gandules while she took care of the main course - chicken con sofrito - and she had also tasked you in making a grilled salsa. You were smashing it inside of the molcajete, the grinding and the scratching making Miles and his father wince.
“Y/N, honey do you want me to uhm… take over… that?” Jefferson asks as he comes closer to you.
“Nope,” you say as Rio dipped her fingers into the salsa and coughing. “Oh no, is it bad?”
“N-No,” she cleared her throat, coughing. “Just spicy, very spicy. Are you mad, honey?”
“You have no fucking clue,” you basically growled as Miles and Jefferson slowly stepped back.
“You have any clue where this kid is?” Jefferson whispers to Miles, looking over. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat that salsa.”
“I-I’ll find him,” Miles says, nodding. “Just… distract them.”
First, he checked your apartment. He looked around, searching for anything that would show Peter was home, and when he found nothing — it was to the streets he went. He changed quickly, already swinging out the window to find the beautiful idiot. It didn’t take him long, quickly going to their favorite spot and finding him lounging, snoring extremely loudly.
“Peter! Peter, what the hell are you doing?!” Miles slapped Peter through the mask, gasping when he saw the gashes and lacerations all over his body. “Holy shit, Peter!”
He snapped up, gasping as he looked around. “What time is it?”
“Like seven-thirty already dude!” He quickly looks around. “What happened?!”
“I was helping a bank robbery, got dammit, Y/N is going to kill me!” He tries to stand, groaning loudly as he holds his side.
“Stop moving! Stop! Y/N taught me how to stitch people up, just lay down!” Miles ordered the older Spider-Man, forcing him to lay back as he grabbed the medical supplies.
“There’s no point, they’ll heal soon enough, I need to get home. Y/N is going to kill me!” He quickly stood, the gashes already getting smaller and less deep. “Let’s go!”
Miles groans. “Am I the babysitter or you?!”
He swung after him, Peter quickly swinging into your room and looking through the dresser that held his clothes. “Oh, come on! Y/N moved my clothes around.”
“Y/N does your laundry?” Miles asks, groaning. “Do you not how in love with you she is?!”
“We switch on laundry duty! It was her weekend so I cooked,” he grabbed a button down, groaning. “Thank fuck she washed my favorite.”
He grabs some new underwear from the drawer, smiles face palming as he rushes to the restroom to get changed. “You're going to bleed through that!”
“No I’m not!” He yelled back, walking out in his new clothes. “I covered the stuff with gauzes.”
“Okay, go upstairs, I’m going to swing up to my room and change, alright?”
He nodded. “Right.”
They both went to Miles’ apartment in different ways, Peter knocking on the door and when it swung open, he smiled at you. You gasped when you saw his gashed face, quickly reaching up. “What happened?!”
“Bank robbery, I passed out on top of a building. So sorry I’m late.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands settling on your waist. “Dinner going well?”
“I-I made a salsa, are you okay?” Your hands quickly cup his face, twisting and turning as you sigh. “Rio’s going to freak! God fuck, Peter!”
He laughed. “You have no reason to worry, honey. I’ll just say I… ran into a tree.”
“A tree?!”
“Look at that! Peter’s here!” Miles yelled, running forward. “Let’s eat!”
When everyone sat down at the dinner table, it was obvious something was a little off. “I uhm… how is work, Y/N?”
You clear your throat, nodding at Rio’s question. “It’s going really well! I’m really happy there.”
“Peter, you moved in with Y/N already?” Jefferson asked, scooping food into his mouth. “It’s about time.”
“What do you mean?” Peter paused his actions of stuffing his face, tilting his head like a confused puppy.
“Well… you both are dating, right?” Rio asked, looking over at Miles. “Mijo always told us you were…”
“No, we’re not,” you say, a sad smile on your face. “But Peter does basically live with me! He does my laundry, cooks, you know, normal stuff.”
“Normal… couple stuff,” Rio filled in. “You pay rent too?”
“I-I tried, but Y/N didn’t let me,” Peter says softly, shrugging. “She said that she didn’t need my help with it.”
It goes quiet for a minute before Miles laughs awkwardly. “Hey, guys! I passed my biology test!”
You smiled when Miles saved you both from the awkward moment, cheering as everyone continued to talk about how they knew Miles was going to pass. Peter wasn’t that into the conversation, he was extremely preoccupied.
You both did do a lot of couple stuff.
For fucks sake, you both even slept with each other. Why weren’t you both dating, why?
When dinner was done and a few drinks were put in after Rio forced Miles to go to bed, you both went back up to your shared apartment. You giggled as you opened the door, smiling back at him. “Do you want to watch a movie or go straight to sleep, what do you want to do?”
“Can I talk to you, Y/N?” He slowly takes your hand, pulling you toward your room.
You giggled, shrugging. “Well, straight to sleep it is then.”
He sat on the bed, parting his legs and pulling you between them making you giggle. “Everything okay?” You whisper, pushing his hair back as you leaned down to press your forehead to his. “I know something’s not. What’s up?”
“Why did you say we’re not dating?” He pouts up at you, a giggle falling from your lips. “Hey, it’s not funny! We… we do things that couples do, why aren’t we a couple? I know… I know you might not-”
“For fucks sake Peter, shut up.”
He gasped as you pulled his face up, your lips pressing to his as your nails softly press into his skin, soft but firm all at once. He groaned loudly, his hands pulling you closer before you pulled away, a whine falling from his lips. “What’re you doing?”
His words were almost slurred together even though the alcohol he drank had little to no effect on him. It makes you laugh as he leaned up, pressing more kisses to your lips before he pulled your body solidly against his own, fixing your position so that you sat on his lap and your hands were around his neck. “What baby, you don’t want me to stop kissing you?”
He hummed, shaking his head. “No, you can’t… ‘s unfair.”
You started to laugh even harder as he basically whined, trying to pull you down for more kisses. You hummed as he started to lay back, hands pushing through his hair. “I need you… I need you, Y/N.”
You rose a brow, rolling your hips into his. “Need? Need’s a big word, baby,” you respond, smiling down at him as he groaned into your neck. He shifts you both so that you were laying on your back, leaning down to keep kissing your lips.
He was addicted, now that he had one taste, he never wanted to stop. His tongue pushed into your mouth, desperately swirling his own around yours as you groaned into his mouth, the minute he pulled away was when you swallowed the mixed saliva gathered at the back of your throat. You hummed as he leaned down, his lips pressing to your for a quick kiss, going over and over again with small breaks in between.
“Peter,” you giggled, his mere hum the only proof he was listening. “Are you just going to kiss me or are you going to get a little adventurous?”
He pauses, tilting his head. “Adventurous?”
You laughed. “Fuck, my beautiful idiot,” you pulled him down for another kiss, your teeth grazing his deliciously making him groan before you pulled away. “You can put that mouth to better use somewhere else.”
He paused, his mind taking a minute to process. “Oh. Oh, yeah!”
You couldn’t help but laugh as he quickly pressed one last kiss to your lips before letting his lips slowly, slowly trail down your body while slipping off your clothes, his nimble fingers leaving a trail of fire on your now bare body. He paused as he stared down at you, his eyes dark and pupils blown as he inhaled.
“So fucking beautiful.”
His words make you groan, hands pushing your thighs apart as his head slowly pushes between them, his mouth already hot on your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue already exploring your wetness and his fingers pushing into your slit, smearing all of it up and down before settling it on your clit.
He wasted no time, groaning as your hands thread through his hair, holding onto his brown curls like the were handles and your thighs settling on his shoulders. He paused though, pulling away making you whine softly, head tilted again. “This is okay, right? I should’ve asked.”
Fuck, why was he so fucking adorable? “Yes honey, this is okay. More than okay.”
He smiled widely, biting his lip. “Good, because your cunt tastes even better than your mouth.”
You gasped as he pushed his face between your legs again, his lips latching on your clit as he pushed a finger inside of you. Your back arches, eyes widening before they roll back into your head, his finger pushing and pumping trying to find the right rhythm, teasing you. He gasps as you tug on his hair, pushing your hips up into his mouth as he groans against your clit, the vibrations making you shiver.
“F-Fuck, Peter.”
He hummed, enjoying the feeling of your cunt clamping down on his finger, curling it inside of you to feel your body writhe underneath his touch. His eyes roll back as a shiver runs down his back, groaning into your clit that he never let his mouth off of for too long, only shifting his head to get into a new angle. You tasted so fucking good, your swollen clit evidence of his torment, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t describe, he could feel you, all of you.
He could feel every clench of your walls, every shiver that ran up your back. He could hear every stutter of your breath, the skip of your heartbeat, every soft whimper you tried to hide as that one finger continues to find every pleasure spot that not even you knew existed. He could taste you with every lick, every suck of his mouth, his teeth even grazing your sensitive skin if he got too focused.
He finally pulls away from your clit, a thick string of saliva attaching your swollen bud of muscles to his lips, your hips bucking as he stares at your greedy cunt trying to suck his fingers back in every time he pulls out. He groans loudly as the shiver running down his back gets stronger, and the twisting of your stomach turns tight, your thighs shaking as your hips rut into his fingers until his mouth joins the actions of sucking on your entrance as another finger attempts to push into your pussy.
You gasped as your hips bucked without warning, your spongy walls enveloping both of his digits, and your mind blurring from how hard the orgasm hits you. Peter doesn’t even stop though, groans falling from his lips as he pulls out his fingers making you whine, your attempts to ride your hips into them failing. His tongue pushes into you though, a gasp leaving your lips as you automatically tighten your thighs around his head, not that he was complaining.
He could be like this for hours, his tongue pushing into you as his thumb rubbed circles into your overly-sensitive and swollen clit, hard but focused and his fingers pushed back into you. His tongue never stopped moving though, flicking and lapping, his mouth sucking and popping sensually against your pussy, groans that sent vibrations from your pussy straight to the growing knot in your stomach making you whine.
You had just cum, but it wasn’t like he had probably even cared about what it would do to your body, how sensitive it would make your body to every movement he made. His mouth sucked on the opening of your cunt, opening his mouth wide to push his tongue into you as your hips buck into his mouth. Your fingers tug on his hair, whimpering as he rolled your clit between his thumb and pointer with his other hand, his tongue thrusting into you as far as he could, an ache forming in his jaw as he tried to get his mouth anywhere and everywhere on your body.
He could feel the sparking along his spine again, your stomach clenching all over again as his fingers rubbed against that sensitive spot inside of you. His fingers twist, curling inside of you as he tries to push another finger into you, the stretch making you scream out as a shiver runs down his spine, a shaky groan leaving his lips as he swallows everything leaking out of your cunt.
He wanted more. He wanted to taste everything coming from your cunt, everything you had, just everything. He didn’t want to stop, his third digit pushing into you and the squelching filled his ears, his breathing heavy and panting into your cunt. His thumb continues its torment on your clit, rubbing and the shocks running through your body as your thighs shake and fingers shakily scratch against his scalp.
Your body was coated in sweat, stomach tight as his fingers edged you onto the climax of another orgasm, they always came quick after the first. Your body was sensitive all from him, your nipples hard and pebbled from the cold air of your room, bottom lip bitten raw from trying to hold back your moans before he squeezed at your clit - the only thing he needed to do to get you to start moaning out for him.
He loved the sounds you made, getting drunk off of your moans and whines combined with the taste of your arousal and your cunt making his dick hard and his senses overflow. He pushed his three fingers into you as deep as he could, all the way to his knuckles to watch your cunt convulse and feel those same sparks on his spine.
“Peter! Peter wait, Peter- fuck!”
Your third orgasm brought you to tears, vision going black as you squeezed your thighs together, hands gripping his chestnut curls as you tried to steady your breathing. He hummed into your cunt, softly patting your clit making you yelp in surprise, parting your legs to watch as he slowly pulled away. “Are you alright?”
You stared at him, almost dumbfounded. “Y-You… you just ate me out and made me cum three times and you’re asking if I’m alright?”
His brows furrowed as he leaned up, wiping his mouth before licking the back of his hand where all your juices went and kissing under your eyes. He was careful not to get too close to your actual eyes, just in case, only kissing where tears fell. “You’re crying. I don’t like it when you cry.”
You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck after he slowly pulled off his shirt and tugged his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off. “I’m crying out of pleasure. You make me feel so good, Peter.”
He smiled widely down at you, leaning lower to press another kiss to your lips. “Well, I want to make you feel better. Especially with how good you’re making me feel, princess, you make me feel so good. Make me so happy.”
“W-Wait!” Your voice was loud, surprising him as he stared up at you in confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I… I want to ride you. Please?”
He pauses, but nods with a smile. “Alright. But you can’t be gentle. Don’t be gentle. I want it all.”
You nodded, laughing loudly as he twisted you both over, helping you steady yourself over his aching cock. It was long, thick and veiny, tip red and leaking precum in desperation as he whined, bucking his hips. You giggled, slowly wrapping your hand around his before he nodded and watched as you slowly sunk down.
You gasped, nodding as he slowly pushed into you, his head tilting back and his mouth falling open. Your eyes rolled back into your head, vision blurring as his girth stretched you out even more, every time you thought he bottomed out the more he kept pushing. You whined loudly, hands pushing against his chest as he groaned loudly, eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath.
His body was sheening with sweat, a smile blooming on his face as you dug your nails into his chest, scratching against his skin as you tried to compose himself. This is what he wanted when he wanted you to claim him, he wanted your nails to scratch on his body, your mouth to leave hickies and bite marks, he wanted to be yours.
He watched as you slowly started to bounce on his cock, his eyes staring at your bouncing tits before letting them wander down your body, staring at the bulge on your lower stomach. He hissed loudly as you got harder, fixing your position as your clit rubbed against his pelvis, eyes rolling back.
Your cunt felt just as good wrapped around his cock as it did wrapped around his tongue and fingers, every movement had it squelching and convulsing around his shaft, loud groans falling from his lips as his large hands settled on your hips, thumbs settling on that giant bulge on your stomach.
He watched your mouth fall open as you screamed out, fixing both of your positions to buck his hips up into you and watch your boys fall forward. He kept your body against his, flipping you both over to wrap his arm around your body and press his face into your neck, groaning loudly into your skin as your nails dragged against his back.
He thrusted as hard as he could, desperate to find his climax as your body bounced with this thrusts, loud moans leaving your lips with each thrust and his name falling from your lips over and over. “Yes baby, you’re doing so good. Your cunt is so fucking good baby, I love the way you feel around my dick,” he groans, gasping as your mouth pressed to his skin. “Fuck, fuck yes princess, I want to be covered in you. Want your hickies and your kisses, your scratches and your bites, I don’t care, I want to be covered in you.”
You obviously didn’t expect him to be so into marking, but of course, you weren’t going to say no. You sucked bright purple marks on his skin, digging your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your screams as the bed slammed into the wall, the squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin against skin echoing against the wall was enough chorus of your sex.
You could feel his dick driving into the deepest parts of you, stretching your cunt so that if you looked down you could see the bulge that just seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers rubbed against your clit, whispers of praise falling from his tongue as those same sparks ran up his spine, his stupid little mind finally connecting the dots. “Are you about to cum? Are you about to cum baby?”
You nodded your head into his marked up neck, your tongue slowly licking against the bite mark on his neck as you whined into his neck. “Fuck, fuck Peter! Fuck, I can’t, I can’t!”
“Yes you can baby, you can,” he whispers, pulling away to hold your chin. “Look at me fucking you baby, don’t you want me to keep fucking you? I’ll make you feel better than you make me feel, I’ll fuck you so good. I’ll pump all my cum inside of you and you’ll be such a perfect girl for me and take all of it, right?”
Your eyes rolled back, mouth lulling open as you nodded mindlessly. “Yes! Yes, I will, I’ll take all of it!”
“Fuck, fuck Y/N, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted to cum inside of you, fill you up and watch all of my cum make your stomach bulge,” his voice gets huskier, almost like a growl as his thrusts get rougher, messier. “Fucking hell!”
You screamed this time, watching as he completely pulled out of you just to slam back in, your mind blurring as he continued to pull out and slam back in. You could feel your thighs shaking, that knot in your stomach threatening to break. “Peter, Peter! I’m going to cum, I need to cum!”
“No!” He whined, shaking his head as he started to get faster, his hips rough as his hands held your sides, eyes rolling back. “I’m gonna cum, cum with me. Please honey, I want to feel you, I need it.”
A final scream falls from your lips as he bottoms out, eyes rolling back and body shaking as your fourth orgasm absolutely blurred your mind, endless babbles leaving your lips as he panted above you. He stared down at your stomach, the bulge that shouldn’t have been able to get bigger successfully larger. “Fuck honey, look at what I did to your pretty tummy.”
You did, your mind still slightly hazy, but your mouth fell open when you saw the bulge and a whine fell from your lips. “Y-You’re still hard.”
He smiled. “It’s from the spider bite.”
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omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!
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Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪
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Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪
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© asterias-record-shop
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angelicliima · 27 days
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BACKSEAT BINGO
au!cooper howard x fem!actress!reader
summary In 2077, Cooper Howard's efforts in the Sino-American war and his achievements on stage and screen have made him a household name across the globe. After his divorce, Cooper decides to throw himself back into his work on screen, abandoning his dreams of becoming a real cowboy, he supposes acting as one will suffice. That's until he meets you, a rising starlet that's been pinned as the next big thing that just so happens to be playing his love interest in his new movie... and Cooper can't seem to remember his lines anymore.
coming soon!! let me know if you want a tag!!
@gobsalad @ddarling-ddearest-ddead @sitkafay @whatiswrongwithpeople @sarasxe @sillysimping
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omaano · 2 months
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"I've grown these for you."
My first entry for the @rexobibingo - because what is a Gardener/Gardening about if not making leafy things grow out of love? (You can, of course, grow your leafy things out of spite too, I guess, that's always a very fair motivation if you ask me)
Keeping to good old habits from my previous bingo experience, please allow me to wholeheartedly and very passionately recommend @dharmaavocado's fic that has been on my mind throughout the whole time while I was working on this drawing We Who Love Our Hands in Dirt which was likely the first fic that has sold me on this ship, and Hanahaki as allergies will never stop being fascinating to me as a concept *w*
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Eat You Up
AN: Third fic for @moonknight-events’ MK Bingo! Hope y'all enjoy 😌❤️
PWP. You're watching a movie with Marc and get a bit...distracted.
(Un-beta’d)
Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Prompt: Biting Words: 985 Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader Warnings: pwp, kissing, frottage, biting, licking, sucking (aka giving hickies), sub!Marc, slight praise kink. AO3
——————
You’re beside Marc on the couch, head resting on his shoulder as you both sit and watch that movie your co-worker kept recommending. It was okay, a little predictable but enjoyable all the same. Not enough to hold your attention though, sadly. Truth be told, you’re having trouble focusing on anything but him, on anything but Marc—on the warm, solid press of him against you, on the familiar scent of him surrounding you, comforting you— 
You turn your face toward him, your nose brushing against his neck. His arm tightens around you at the touch, pulling you closer, and you let him. You both resettle, your hand now resting against his chest as you nuzzle your nose against a random spot at the base of his neck. His skin is soft, like velvet, and you can’t help it when your eyes involuntarily fall shut, savoring the feel of him. You bury your face there, inhaling deeply, your lips grazing over his collarbone. He smells so good, warm and clean and a little woodsy. It makes your mouth water, and you can’t stop yourself from licking tentatively at his skin. You sigh softly at the familiar taste of him, his skin salty yet somehow still sweet. 
You hear his breath hitch, feel his body shift beside you and smile softly, gently nipping at his olive skin. His hand clenches slightly where it rests on your shoulder, bunching up the fabric of your shirt, his throat bobbing as he swallows. He doesn’t try to stop you though, so you continue, licking and nipping at that same spot.  
You do get a little carried away, giving up all pretense of watching the movie as you crawl into his lap to straddle him. Your knees are on either side of his hips, his fingers twisting in the back of your shirt as you gently grind against him. He groans softly as you bury your face in his neck again, his head falling to rest against the back of the couch.  
You start off soft and slow, gently sucking at his skin, your tongue soothing the marks left behind. Marc is completely at your mercy, his hands drifting down to settle on your hips as you devour his neck. Your teeth graze over his bruised skin and he shivers, his hips pushing up into yours involuntarily. You moan softly at the friction between your legs, the vibration against his skin making his grip on you tighten. 
You nip at him again, this time a little harder, your lips surrounding the bruise as you add a little suction. Marc hisses, his fingers digging into your sides, and you wonder, just for a moment, if you could make him come like this, with just your mouth and teeth and tongue— 
“Baby,” he groans, lifting his hand to cup the back of your head, wordlessly asking you to slow down. 
You relent, pressing a kiss against his abused skin before pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. He looks wrecked, hair mussed, lips parted, his breaths leaving him in pants. You smile softly at the sight, reaching out to push your hand through his curls. Marc leans into it, his eyes heavy lidded as they lovingly rove your face. 
Your gaze is drawn back to the bruises on his neck, the color of them darkening more and more by the minute. You chew your bottom lip, eyes glued to the marks, all scattered across the base of his neck like a necklace—you like them, like seeing them, that reminder that Marc is yours and no one else's. Yours. He’s yours.  
A molten heat wells inside you at the thought and settles in your core. You drag your eyes back up his delectable neck, licking your lips at the expanse of unmarked skin. You make it as far as his mouth before you lean in, claiming his lips in a deep, languid kiss. His groan is muffled as you shift, sliding forward slightly to press yourself against his front, your arms winding around his neck, fingers plunging into his hair. Marc pushes his hips up into yours, using his grip on you to drag you over his clothed length. You can’t help but moan, pulling back from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans, eyebrows furrowing slightly before you release him with a pop.  
He gazes up at you, his beautiful brown eyes full of love and unslaked lust, and suddenly you want nothing more than to watch him fall apart. You lean in, pressing your foreheads together, your mouth hovering over his as you start to move in his lap. His eyes fall shut in pleasure, his breath leaving him in huffs. 
“So good, baby,” he slurs, his hands grasping your hips as you increase your pace. 
He meets your movements with his own, grinding his cock up against your core. You gasp in pleasure, moving faster, harder, pulling grunts and groans from between his lips. You’re close, so close, and so is Marc, you can tell by how slack his jaw is, by the look he has in his eyes, the one that borders on adoration. 
“Come for me, Marc,” you breathe, nipping at his kiss-bitten lips. 
He comes with a gasp, his hips stuttering as he continues rutting up into you, prolonging his release. A shuddered breath leaves him as he settles once more, his body going limp beneath you. You watch him come down with a soft smile on your lips, reaching out and brushing a few wayward curls from his damp forehead. 
He meets your gaze and smiles, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hips. 
“My turn,” he breathes, soft smile morphing into something more devious as he gathers you in his arms and quickly stands from the couch. 
You yelp in surprise, then laugh as he practically runs to the bedroom.
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If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖
🌟 Masterlist 🌟 MK Bingo Masterlist 🌟
i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.
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sapp0w0 · 15 days
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Drops this and runs
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loserdiaz · 6 days
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the plane was goin' down (how'd you turn it right around?)
buck/eddie | teen and up | 7k words
“The plane is sinking.” Eddie states, matter of factly, he blinks and his gaze clears just a little bit more. “And I'm going down with it.” The water is now almost hitting Eddie’s chest. Everyone has evacuated already, he's pretty sure. And Buck feels like a tender bruise, achy and broken. “If you go down, then I'll go down with you. I don't fucking care, Eddie!” Buck feels the sting of tears in his eyes, Eddie's hand moves slowly, his thumb brushing them away delicately and in their wake, leaving a trail of blood instead. Buck can't bring himself to care. or:
Eddie is coming back from his last tour on Afghanistan, excited that soon he'll be reunited with his family. Of course, as it's their luck, his plane goes down. @badthingshappenbingo prompt: wiping the other's tears away
read on ao3
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burntheedges · 27 days
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Looong fic recs ✨
I'm still working on my own Pedro Pascal Fandom Bingo card 😂 and this is part of that. I was trying to decide what to do for the "create and share a rec list" square and thought about how much I like really long fics. So this is a short list of some of my favorites that are 100k words or more! (x reader unless otherwise marked)
Din
Be-All and Endor by @djarins-cyare (404k)
The World Is Light, Embodied by @davnittbraes (155k)
Joel
Cowboy Like Me by @macfrog (124k)
Something to Fight For by @auteurdelabre (166k)
Your Summer Dream by @swiftispunk (99k but I'm counting it because more is coming)
Dieter
Recovery Road by @chronically-ghosted (108k) (x OFC Natalie)
Frankie
Adrift With You by @morallyinept (120k words (so far?)) (x OFC Jude)
Shared Breaths by @frenchiereading (135k ish)
Between the Raindrops series by @jazzelsaur (148k) (thank you @secretelephanttattoo for the rec!)
Mr. Ben
Visiting by @ladamedusoif (99.3k and it's still in progress so I'm counting it! I'm still catching up)
do you have any recs for looong fics?? please share them!
my bingo card
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drarrymyheart · 4 months
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A 50 word Drarry microfic for your enjoyment ♥️
It took twenty-three dates.
Twenty-four if you count their shag in the ministry loo. Harry decided he definitely did.
Twenty-four dates before the stubborn bastard said it.
One word that set Harry’s nerves alight; relief in his lungs, elation in his veins.
One word breathed into their tender kiss.
“Harry.”
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laurenairay · 4 days
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I got a secret, I’m telling everyone - Q. Hughes
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Summary: Quinn doesn’t think he’s good enough for Gianna. Gianna doesn’t think Quinn would ever like her as more than a friend. Jack has had enough of the pining.
This is my entry for Rox’s birthday bingo! I couldn’t make it a true bingo @offside-the-lines (sorry!) but I included only one bed, dancing, mutual pining, and truth or dare in this Quinn fic! I hope you like it!
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: some bad language, angst, self-doubt, idiots to lovers
Title from Truth or Dare, by Emily Osment
~
“Hey Quinn, truth or dare.”
“Jack, we’re not 8 years old,” Quinn snorted.
“I mean, if you’re too chicken…”
Quinn rolled his eyes as Jack, Trevor, and Cole all started making chicken squawks, Turcs and Luke just giggling.
“I’m not chicken!”
“So…truth or dare?” Jack grinned.
“Fine, dare.”
“I dare you to finally tell Gianna how you feel about her. By the end of next summer.”
As the group burst into laughter, Quinn just groaned. “You can fuck right off.”
“Are you going to forfeit?”
~
Quinn wished more than anything else that he hadn’t let Jack bait him at the end of last summer. There was just something about his brother and his friends that got under his skin though, especially around Luke, and the last thing he wanted was for any of those younger guys to think he was a ‘wimp’. And he sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to do any of their forfeits. But that dare?
It had been the bane of his year.
It was hard enough trying to drag his team into the playoffs (and thankfully succeeding, despite ultimately falling in the second round), but having any thoughts in his downtime consumed by Gianna? It was almost too much to handle.
He’d known her for years – a friend of a friend in Michigan – and right from the start he’d been head over heels. He knew he’d been obvious about it to everyone other than her, as much as he hated to admit it. Jack had caught on the quickest, happily gossiping to his NTDP buddies who always hung around in the summers, but thankfully Gianna didn’t seem to have a clue. And for the past three years, that’s exactly how he’d wanted it to stay.
To him, she was perfect. The sweetest, most golden-hearted, prettiest girl he’d ever met; any smile she sent his way never failed to fill his stomach with butterflies. Sometimes it felt like torture watching the sun shine off of her straight honey blonde hair, as it cascaded down to her waist, her baby blue eyes sparkling with laughter. Despite his Jack and Co.’s teasing, she never teased him too, even when he made an ass of himself. To him, Gianna was perfect.
And that’s exactly why he’d never been able to tell her how he felt. Why would someone like her, so far out of his league, ever be interested in him? This stupid dare from Jack had been tormenting him for 10 long months, and he hated how much it was consuming him but he couldn’t help it. And if he didn’t tell her? He’d never hear the end of it – and his pride wouldn’t handle it either. All he could hope was that his brother wouldn’t meddle. That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?
~
When Jack Hughes reached out to her last month to check on her summer plans, Gianna had been more than confused. It wasn’t that they weren’t friendly, but if she was going to talk to any of the Hughes brothers, it was always Quinn. Mostly because they were the same age, but also because while Jack usually had a bunch of his old hockey buddies visiting and Luke was doing his own thing, Quinn always made the effort to include her. What started as just being a friend of one of his local friends had developed into a genuine friendship of their own – something she treasured – and him being back from Vancouver was genuinely one of the highlights of her summers.
How could it not be? He was funny and sweet, and yet serious and caring, all at once. It was an intoxicating combination that she’d never seen in a guy her age before, let alone in one that genuinely seemed to like talking to her. It didn’t help that he was one of the most handsome guys she’d ever met either. Maybe not classically handsome, but there was just something about the way his smile lit up his whole expression that sent her heart fluttering. That, and the way he always took the time to talk to her, even when there were a lot of other people hanging around.
So Jack reaching out? Strange.
Still, she sent her commiserations for his season (gently of course) and responded to his own questions about how her job was going, before he got to the point. He was organising a welcome back/start of the summer long weekend at their cabin – Friday evening to Monday morning – and he wanted to know if she wanted to join them in the group.
For Jack to ask this specifically? Even stranger than him just reaching out.
The temptation of spending time with Quinn in a smaller group setting though? It was too good to resist, and she’d happily agreed. Jack had told her to just pack a bag of clothes and leave everything else up to him (including her transport up to the cabin), which she knew in her bones felt hinky but ultimately decided to ignore. Whatever Jack was up to, she knew he wasn’t cruel in the slightest, so for now she was happy to go along with whatever his plans were – even if one of the ‘instructions’ had been to keep it a ‘surprise’ that she was going, whatever that meant. She could only hope Quinn wouldn’t hate the surprise. That, and the hope that she wouldn’t make an ass of herself. Quinn didn’t think of her as any more than a friend, she knew that, so she had to keep her feelings under wraps.
That shouldn’t be too hard, right?
~
“Jack, what did you do?” Quinn hissed.
“Thanks for organising the welcome back start of the summer party, Jack. Thanks for inviting all the guests, Jack. Thanks for making sure that I didn’t have anything to stress about, Jack.”
Quinn just pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow, making Jack snicker.
“Look, man, you can take the floor if you’re that beat up about it. It’s one weekend – you can handle sharing a room with Gianna for three nights.”
That’s what Quinn was mad about. Jack had taken it upon himself to sort out ‘room assignments’ for the long weekend in the cabin – clearly having gotten Trevor and Cole in on it because they were refusing to help him fix it – leaving Gianna stuck in sharing a room with him. He genuinely couldn’t believe that Jack was forcing Gianna into this, giving her little choice on what to do, and didn’t know what else to do himself as the embarrassment flooded through his veins.
What the hell was Jack up to? Why was he meddling so much?
Quinn knew his brother was up to something when instead of just bringing Trevor, Turcs, and Cole with him, Gianna was sitting blissfully ignorant in the front seat of the car too. It wasn’t that Gianna was the only girl, but she was the only girl sharing a room/sofa/pull-out bed with a guy she wasn’t dating, and he hated that Jack had created this awkward situation in the first place.
How could he fix it?
“Uh, Quinn?”
Quinn snapped his head up at the sound of Gianna’s voice calling to him down the stairs, ignoring Jack and Trevor’s stupid grins (other than to punch Jack in the arm on his way past) to jog upstairs to find out what was wrong. He found her in the doorway of the room they were ‘assigned’ and it wasn’t until he poked his head over her shoulder that he remembered the one detail he really shouldn’t have forgotten.
This was his usual bedroom. With only one bed.
True, it was a queen-size bed, but it was still only one bed. No wonder Jack looked so pleased with himself. Fuck.
“Um, I am so sorry about Jack. I should’ve kicked his ass harder while we were growing up,” Quinn sighed.
Gianna let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “I can sleep on that bench at the foot of the bed. There’s more than enough room for me there.”
She was petite…but no, no way.
“Definitely not, I can,” Quinn said.
“Your legs will hang over the end of it,” she pointed out, smiling wryly.
He tried not to wince. That was a good point. He didn’t know what was showing on his face but it made Gianna put her hands on her hips.
“We’ll figure it out later. This is an after-bonfire-tonight Gianna-and-Quinn problem,” she said firmly.
Quinn found himself nodding in agreement, too dazed by her words to say anything useful. Giana-and-Quinn. He liked the sound of that.
~
“There’s only one bed.”
“There’s only one bed?! Gi, you have to make a move!”
“And have him completely freak out? Absolutely not.”
“Quinn will not freak out. Everyone knows that he likes you.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone.”
“Then why hasn’t he ever said anything?”
“I think Jack is trying to kick his ass into motion.”
“Oh. Oh!”
~
This was his own personal circle of hell. Even without looking at him or hearing him, he knew Jack was laughing at him somewhere. Luke had already given up on his pathetic nature, passing him a cold beer before walking off to literally anywhere else. What was wrong? It should be a picture-perfect night – the bonfire was roaring, drinks were flowing, music was playing…and Gianna was dancing.
Not by herself of course, with the other girls. But still – she was dancing, and he was in torment.
While the other girls were trying to act all cute and coquettish (which, more power to them, it was clearly working on the other guys, whatever they intended), Gianna was just flowing to the music, eyes closed and clearly in her own world. She was mesmerising, captivating, all of the synonyms. He was completely and utterly screwed, and not in a fun way.
Jack was definitely laughing at him.
He was so lost in a trance in fact, that he missed her walking over to him, only breaking out of his thoughts when she thumped down in the chair next to him.
“Hey Quinn, you look lonely over here,” she grinned.
He felt his cheeks heat with a tell-tale blush, making her laugh. It was almost musical, totally unfair, and as usual she was leaving him tongue tied.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just getting some peace and quiet,” he managed to blurt out.
Her smile dimmed slightly before returning in full force. “I won’t disturb you any more then.”
Fuck, damn it, no!
“You’re not disturbing me,” he said quickly, shaking his head, “Adding to the peace, if anything.”
Was that desperate? It sounded desperate.
But Gianna just laughed again, settling back into her chair. He didn’t know if it was a trick of the light but the relief that flooded his body seemed to be reflected in her face. She was glad she wasn’t disturbing him?
“Your brother sure knows how to throw a party,” Gianna murmured.
“That’s Jack, life and soul of the party,” Quinn mused.
He hated the pang that rang through his chest. She admired Jack. She admired Jack’s joie de vivre, something he’d never had and would never had. How could he compete with that?
“Yeah Chelsea’s all over that, she loves it,” Gianna grinned, jerking her chin to their right.
What?
Quinn turned his head to see a pretty little brunette (not as pretty as Gianna, of course) leaning up against Jack’s chest, giggling at something that could in no way be that funny.
Gianna was happy for Chelsea?
Oh.
Oh!
“Should I give Trevor a heads up to find somewhere else to sleep?” he smirked.
“Trevor Zegras can figure himself out,” Gianna snorted, smirking slightly back.
If he didn’t adore her before, he was sold hook, line, and sinker now. He had to say something. He had to tell her how he felt. He couldn’t go on any longer with all of this pressure sitting on his chest, weighing him down. He needed to know, either way, how she felt about him too.
“Hey Gi?”
“Yeah Quinn?” she said, turning her head to face him with a smile.
“I’m sorry if this sounds stupid, or unwanted, or just completely out of the blue. It’s just that, well, I can’t get this out of my head and now I’m rambling and-”
Gianna cut him off with a giggle, pressing a finger to his lips.
“Start again,” she prompted, dropping her hand back into her lap.
But her eyes were filled with something he hadn’t expected. Hope. That was everything he needed to steel himself.
“I like you, Gianna. Really like you. And when Jack dared me-”
“Wait, Jack dared you?”
The hurt in her face immediately sent a cold wave through his body.
“No, no, not like that. He dared me to confess my feelings to you. That’s literally it, I swear. He knows that I like you – all the guys do. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say anything,” he explained.
The hurt in her expression melted away, and she nodded, her smile turning shy. Thank fuck for that.
“That does explain why Jack reached out a month ago to find out if I could join you guys this weekend,” she mused.
A month ago? That meddling little rat.
Still, if he hadn’t meddled…
“So you’re not mad or upset that I like you?” Quinn asked hopefully.
Gianna huffed out a laugh, shaking her head, making his whole body feel like it was bursting into fireworks.
“The opposite, actually,” she admitted, “I just…I didn’t think you’d ever see me as more than a friend.”
She didn’t think…?
Without caring about their audience, their setting, or even their drinks, Quinn leant forward and kissed her. He barely heard the surprised soft moan she let out over the cheering of his idiot brother and idiot friends, choosing to flip them off before cupping her face with that same hand. He’d wasted so much time. But now, they had the whole summer to make up for it.
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