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#help and don´t look away
batterygarden · 4 months
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pick your battles
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cw: big bro! yuuta x fem & afab reader, dead dove do not eat, explicit, reader wears lingerie and a dress, yuuta is sweet but Controlling, nii-san use, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, mult. orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, cockwarming, size kink & slight pain with that, he's taller than you, yuuta's kinda a lifestyle dom, 2k words
18+, minors dni please
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When you finally hear Yuuta’s keys jingling at the door you shoot up from your place on the couch—immediately alert from the half-asleep state you’d been waiting for him in. Then you’re rushing over to greet him, all eager in your frilly little stockings and garter belts, donning the tiniest dress you could get your hands on, all for your big brother. 
Yuuta’s tired eyes widen when he sees you, his breath hitching in the most satisfying way. He catches you when you run into him then, cradling you softly to his chest. The movement flows naturally—it’s routine. 
“Welcome home, nii-san!” 
“Thanks, pretty girl! Missed you today.” There’s a sweet kiss to your hairline. Then he’s running his eyes down you thoughtfully before leaning away.
“Step back for me, love, I wanna see what you’re wearing.” 
You do a little twirl for him, ruffling up your lace with the biggest grin.
“Where’d you get such a pretty outfit?” He asks, tone soft the way it’s always reserved to be for you—although you catch the barest hint of worry. 
“I ordered it! For you—thought you might get sick of the same old pajamas I wear around the house all the time.” 
He laughs lightly through his nose. 
“I’d never. You do look really cute though—I’m glad you bought it.” 
You're clinging onto his arm by the time he’s finished his sentence and playing with his fingers, practically climbing him like he’s your personal jungle gym. You always do that when he’s been gone too long—he knows it means you missed him extra. 
“Well I bet you’re hungry—let me make us some food. Then we can watch some TV, okay?” 
You make a noise of excitement. “Can we watch a movie tonight, yuu?” 
“Mmm not the whole thing, but we could start one. You know you’ve got class in the morning, pretty.”
Once you’re both fed, Yuuta lets you pick a movie to start—you settle on your favorite rom com. You don’t even get through the opening credits before you’re snuggled into Yuuta’s lap, latched to him like a koala while he holds you safe and secure. 
Much too soon, however, Yuuta’s turning off the screen—pausing it to finish another day; it’s late.
You frown, unable to hold back a plea of “c’mon nii-san, can’t we watch a little longer? Please?” 
His voice is still soft and patient but his expression is firm when he responds. “We talked about this, love. What’d I say?”
“Nii-san always knows what’s best for me.” You mumble, squishing a cheek against his shoulder in defeat. 
He rubs your back a bit. “There’s my smart girl. ‘T’s true, now let’s get ready for bed” 
Ultimately, when it comes to ensuring you make good choices, Yuuta has to pick and choose his battles with you. Your best interest isn’t always enough to make you a perfect listener—and he thinks he might go to hell for choosing pausing the movie as tonight’s battle instead of making you change into more modest comfortable pajamas. You even insist on keeping on your ridiculous thigh-high socks and connecting straps, leaving Yuuta wondering how conscious you are of their effect on him. 
Whether you predicted it or not, when you snuggle into bed with him that night, Yuuta can’t help but get so hard so quickly. 
It's only made more difficult the way your leg wraps so tightly around his—half on top of him too so your thigh is snug against his boxers while your core is only applying more and more pressure to the hardness of his hip. 
After barely a minute you’ve crawled all the way on top so you’re straddling him while he hugs you to his chest, your panties sitting snugly over the massive bulge in his boxers. 
You don’t wait long before you’re not-so-innocently grinding down again. And yuuta can’t act normal any longer.
“Pretty girl—“ his voice comes out strained, “how are you feeling?” 
Your answer is a needy “so sticky, nii-san. Can you help?” 
His hand glides over your ass to rub over the patch of your panties covering your pussy, feeling you there and finding you soaked. You whine at his touch. 
He pecks the top of your head, sighing before asking, “you want nii-san to take care of it for you?” 
You nod quickly. Then he’s using one hand to guide your hips so you’re still grinding down on him, helping you press your clothed clit more firmly against his cock with each thrust. At the same time he sticks two fingers in his mouth, covering them in spit before easing one into your dripping hole from behind, working you open before inserting another. 
It feels heavenly the way he goes so deep inside you—always hitting magic spots that somehow don’t exist without him there to find them. It’s toe-curling, and sooner than later he’s thrusting hips up to meet your frantic grinding and then you’re coming undone around him. You cum hard, clutching the fabric of his shirt so tight you’re sure you might tear it while burying your face in his chest, rocking your hips like mad with his help. Once you’ve come down, Yuuta wipes as much of your release out of you as he can manage with his fingers, likely to minimize the mess, before sucking them clean, rubbing your back soothingly all the while. 
You let your breath even out before you’re whispering the words—
“Nii-San I need more. Please.” 
There’s a pause before a soft laugh, then he’s tracing a finger under your chin so you’ll look at him. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Yes. Please. I really do.” 
He exhales shakily, drawing shapes on your back while he thinks for a moment. 
“Alright, flip over for me.” 
Once you’ve done as he’s told, Yuuta’s planting a quick kiss on your nose before he’s crawling down your body, dotting kisses here and there as he works himself lower, a big hand caressing down your side so warmly at the same time.
When he reaches your panties he lays a gentle kiss on them, too, before he’s unclipping your garter belt so he’s free to slide them off. He pulls your stockings back up with care when they start to roll down with your disposed underwear, tenderly kneading over your legs like you’re his most cherished possession. 
Then he’s ghosting lips over your bare pussy, leaving you no time to feel shy. 
Not that you’d need to anyways—it’s nothing Yuuta hasn’t seen a million times before, your body has been bare for Yuuta’s eyes since he can remember. Yuuta’s seen you bathe and change and masturbate and put in a tampon. Hell, he put in your first tampon for you—you’d been running late to a birthday party and hyperventilating at the time. 
It’s disgusting and twisted how natural the sight of your freshly-orgasmed pussy is for him. He doesn’t even need to savor it before he digs in—starting by licking up the shiny release he didn’t clean with his fingers, swallowing every drop till his mouth is saturated with your tarte-sweet taste. 
Then your puffy little clit has his attention, and he’s tongueing it softly while returning his fingers to their place inside you, massaging the sweet spot that gets your tummy twitching. You’re panting by that point, thighs locked around his head, fisting his soft hair when he captures your clit in his mouth, syncing up the rhythm of his fingers to the rhythm of his sucking. 
There’s only a choked “nii-san” in warning before you’re gushing around him, pouring onto his fingers while he keeps sucking and fingering you throughout. You have to pull his hair to get him off you once you come down, twitching and overstimulated like he always leaves you—but still anticipating more. Because you’ve sort of got a routine when this happens, and it always ends with you cumming on his cock while he turns you into the sweetest cream pie that ever was. It’s always your favorite part. 
So it’s wordless when he rises to his knees while he’s still between yours, pulling down his boxers with one hand and rubbing soothing circles over your hip with the other while your senses drift back to earth. 
He starts pushing into you before you expect it today, though—startling you so you cry out, grabbing his arm for support as he leans over you. He stills at your reaction, cooing a sympathetic little aww at your scrunched face, asking “‘s it a stretch baby?” 
You nod, leaning into the hand he rubs over your cheek, holding your breath till he bottoms out.
Usually Yuuta’s thoughtful enough not to forget his more than generous size, but on some days he’s too needy to uphold his standard meticulous care. 
Tonight must be needy with the way he moans when you’ve taken the full length of him, sucking air through his teeth while he wills himself not to absolutely pound you straight away. Soft things like satin and flowers and little sisters need to be treated with extra care, Yuuta surely knows it. He needs self restraint—even though your face seems to have the words ruin me written across it in his eyes. The writing is usually a reminder to do the opposite, but any and all self restraint comes much tougher when your pussy’s around him. 
That he manages to hold off any movement til your eyes are open feels like a miracle. But when he sees your giant glassy pupils staring up at him, their expression pleading, he swears he almost empties his load inside you right then and there.
“G-god. You’re so cute.” He manages to say. 
You don’t need to respond, you just drift your stare to his glossy lips, letting your own form a little pout. 
“Kiss?” He always guesses what you need.
You nod, lifting your head to meet his lips passionately, tasting yourself mixed with his saliva. 
Then he’s moving, starting with a careful roll of his hips before grinding into you at a steady rhythm. And your bodies practically melt together—you’re moaning into each other's mouths, holding each other close, frantically rolling hips against hips. Connected by both blood and spit. 
It’s sweet like that for longer than expected before yuuta can’t stand the gentleness anymore, his thrusts growing harsher till your whole body is shoved up and down with each movement.
When he starts fucking you like this, like an animal who’s following his instincts, you can never last long. And soon you’re arching your spine as you’re thrusted over the edge again. This time somehow lasts longer than the others as Yuuta holds a steady rhythm, precisely hitting the same toe-curling spot inside of you over and over leaving you twitching and panting, unable to speak or hear or focus your blurred vision when you try to peek open your eyes. It is intense and mind-numbing the way Yuuta’s cock makes you cum, you don’t even notice Yuuta’s warning signs that he’s following quickly behind you—groaning all pretty for deaf ears. You feel it though when he finally fills you, rope after rope of sticky seed flooding your womb till you swear your belly feels fuller. 
Once breaths are caught and heart-rates finally return to normal afterwards, Yuuta finally starts to rise up off of you. You stop him of course, with a cried Nii-san and a wrap of your legs around him. 
He only sighs, knowing you’ll want to stay like this a while longer, rolling over so you can keep connected just with you on top. He lets you drift off to sleep finally then, vowing silently to wake you in a bit and clean you both off. He’s glad you’re finally getting some rest though—figures this is a battle he can let you win for the night—you’ve got an early morning, after all. 
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thanks for reading, rbs and feedback appreciated <3
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ichorai · 5 months
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tourney favor ; aemond targaryen (m).
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pairing ; aemond targaryen x wife!reader
synopsis ; it was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. but it wasn’t improper by any means. strange, perhaps, but not improper. you glanced back at aemond. he was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched. was he jealous?
wc ; 2.1k
themes ; smut, mild fluff, established relationship (married)
warnings / includes ; jealous aemond, unprotected sex, breeding kink and brief mentions of pregnancy/children, wall sex, foul language, mentions of violence/murder
a/n ; if this fic sounds familiar, i took some lines from my far-lengthier aemond fic, balance the scales :)
main masterlist.
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A grand tourney was held in honor of Jahaerys and Jahaera’s eighth nameday. 
You sat beside Helaena in the high platforms on the elongated arena, hands twisting in your lap. Tourneys usually bored you to no end—watching men hurt themselves over little else than theatrical show and bragging rights was not something you were very keen on. It felt like a waste of time to you, especially because you were already spoken for—you’d much rather be reading, or honing your needlework, or playing with the twins. To your other side was your husband, Aemond, looking equally disinterested in the event. You noticed his long fingers tapping impatiently against his knee, as if he were itching to leave. His older brother Aegon was nowhere to be seen, most likely somewhere in the bowels of the Street of Silk. 
You couldn’t help but feel envious. How come the father of the children the realm was celebrating was off gallivanting through the city, probably sunken into his cups and his whores? He was free to fuck whoever and whenever he wanted. Whilst you had to sit for hours on end beside your beloved husband, with whom you wanted to do nothing more than clamber into his lap and kiss him until the two of you grew dizzy.
Perhaps a large part of your agitation was due to the fact that Aemond had sunken to his knees in your chambers only an hour before, his tongue spelling worship over your drenched core. And you’d been so close, ever so close to falling off the edge—
Until there came a knock on the door, and Criston Cole’s muffled voice echoed through the shut door. He had to urgently speak to Aemond before the tourney, apparently. 
Something akin to a growl caught in his throat as your husband reluctantly drew away from you. You moaned lowly at the loss, sitting up at the edge of the four-poster bed as you watched him wipe your arousal from his chin.
“We’ll resume this tonight,” he had whispered into your flushed ears, before whisking off to speak to Ser Criston.
Seven fucking hells.
It took several moments for you to compose yourself, before you called in one of your handmaidens to help you dress for the tourney. Redo your hairstyle, too, because Aemond had certainly mussed it beyond salvation.
And now, as you fussed with your fingers in the stands, boredly clapping whenever the crowd was, it only came as an utter surprise when you heard your name called out. You sat up straighter, eyes falling from your hands to the riding grounds down below. It didn’t slip past your notice seeing Aemond tense, his fingers curling into a pale fist over his thigh.
A handsome knight donned in black-and-yellow armor stared up at you. You faintly recalled the patterned sigil emblazoned into the shield he was holding—he was of House Darklyn. He had taken off his helmet momentarily, lodged between his waist and his free arm. Gorgeous dark locks spilled over the nape of his neck, only slightly curled. 
The olive green of his eyes gleamed boldly, full lips upturned into a charming smile. “Might I be honored with your favor, my Lady? I can certainly use the luck.” 
Your gaze flickered over to his formidable opponent, a strong and muscular man, shrouded in white. His shield bore a red lion. House Reyne.
It was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. But it wasn’t improper by any means. Strange, perhaps, but not improper. You glanced back at Aemond. He was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched.
Was he jealous?
You could feel the muted arousal roar back to life in your lower abdomen. 
“Of course, Ser,” you called back with a knowing smile in your husband’s direction. You grabbed a ring of woven flowers and tossed it down over the jousting lance. “Be careful.”
Off the Darklyn knight went with your favor swaying by the lance’s handle, the metal grating of his helmet pulled down over his grinning features. You weren’t even sure what his name was.
The joust began just as you sat back down beside Aemond—but you found yourself barely paying attention to what was unfolding, and rather kept your eyes trained on your husband.
“Rather improper of him to ask for your favor,” he commented snidely, voice lowered so only you could hear. “You’re my wife.”
“Perhaps you should be down there, then,” you replied lightly, offering him a cruel smile. You knew well just how little Aemond cared for all the glamor the tourneys offered. “Show them who I belong to.”
Expression hardening to stone, he suddenly gripped your arm with iron-strength, hauling you up out of your seat, despite your half-hearted protests. You wondered if the Darklyn knight would search for you once the tourney was over. You found yourself unsurprised that you couldn’t care less about him.
Especially not with Aemond leading you down the halls of the Keep, twisting several sharp turns before shoving your chamber’s entrance open. Just as quickly as you were yanked inside, the wooden door slammed shut behind you, and you were promptly shoved up against it.
His lips were angry over yours, claiming you, biting you, devouring you completely. You fell slack in his arms, one of your hands resting over his chest, almost as if you were debating between pushing him away or pulling him closer. He swallowed the noises of contentment that slipped from your throat.
“You just couldn’t wait,” he snarled, shoving you against the door harder until he was pressed flush over your body. Jealous Aemond was certainly a sight to behold. “My greedy little wife.”
You preened at his words, arching your back, desperate to reconnect your lips to his. He didn’t put up a fight, allowing you to fight for dominance, claw at his neck and chest in desperation as you kissed him as if he were the very air you needed to breathe. 
Wasting no time, he reached down to yank the bottom of your dress upwards—cursing under his breath at all the damned layers you were wearing—and hurriedly shoved away your shift so he could reach your pulsing cunt. 
You were drenched. Warm and wet and fuck, he couldn’t wait a moment longer—
Sensing this, you made quick work of his trousers, yanking them downwards before moving up to pop off his tunic’s buttons. A startled, pleasured cry—verging on a hysterical sob—tore from your lungs and rattled across the chambers when he suddenly thrusted two long fingers into you, his thumb working quick circles over your sensitive clit. You’d already been denied an orgasm once, and you found a litany of breathless pleas erupting from your lips, as if it were just second nature.
“Please, Aemond, please—” You choked on whatever else you had to say, eyes rolling back as your orgasm slammed into you far too soon for your liking. Heavy and all-consuming. 
But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, more, you’d always want more of your husband.
“Aemond, please, I need you inside,” you croaked, letting out a sigh when he drew a few tender kisses to your forehead. A glimpse of the softer side of your husband, scarcely shown unless it was with you. You loved him like this, but you wanted—no, you needed—him to lose all abandon with you. 
“If you won’t fuck me, I’ll ask the Darklyn knight,” you growled with a serrated tone.
Aemond drew away from you, violet eye ablaze. Was it fury or was it possessiveness written so plainly over his features? Perhaps both. “What did you say?” he whispered, a hand suddenly surging up to grip your jaw.
“I said,” you huffed, staring at him with a challenging quirk of your brows, “I’ll ask another man to fuck me. If my husband won’t do so, that is.”
Silence on Aemond was scarier than anything. You wished he would speak, or scream, or call you filthy names. But no, he… he was observing you. Calculating. Like a cat would a mouse. 
Or a dragon would its kill.
With one fluid motion, he drew his length into his hand—long and hard and angrily weeping with beads of pearly precum. The other hand abruptly flipped you around with surprising strength, crowding you against the wall beside the door so your back faced him. You moaned out his name when he pushed your dress up over your hips and dragged his tip over your drenched core.
“Please,” you begged, bracing yourself against the wall and jutting your hips back. If you could hear yourself over the buzzing in your ears, you’d be absolutely mortified at how delirious you sounded.
In one quick motion, he sheathed himself into you. Your warm, pulsating cunt was gripping him like a vice, eliciting a shuddering groan from his lungs. You mirrored his reaction, squeezing your eyes shut and holding onto him for dear life as he began to pound into you with no restraint. The lewd noises ricocheting in the room made your cheeks heat up until your entire face felt like it had been set aflame. With each snap of his hips into yours, you found yourself crying his name like a mantra, his hands bruising over your waist, pulling you back into him.
You were blubbering incoherently, begging for more. You just about lost it when one of his hands disappeared from your waist—only to roll over your aching clit with quick circles. A sob broke past your lips and you clenched hard around his length, feeling every hot inch of him buried deep inside you. His pace staggered with the sudden shift and he groaned out a curse, followed by your name.
“Who did you want to fuck?” he bit out, slightly breathless, words dripping with venom. “What’s his name?”
“I—” You hiccupped a cry with a particularly loud thrust. “Oh, fuck, Aemond!”
“Right,” he hissed, bending forward to bite down on your strained neck. “I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. Not pretty boys in silly costumes—mmph—not daft knights who lose tourneys. Me.”
The last word was ground out when your cunt spasmed around his girth once more, and you wailed out his name as your orgasm rolled over you. It was a wonder nobody had barged in to see if there was someone being murdered. 
“Perhaps I’d have to get you all round and swollen with my child. Show them who you belong to. Who fucked you this good. Would you like that, sweet wife?” 
“Yes, yes, Aemond, I need—I need you to come inside. Please, I need you to stuff me full.”
You reached behind you to blindly grapple for his arm and he briefly shifted the angle and began pounding into you even harder. His cock hit your sweet spot just right, and you saw stars swimming over your vision. 
A near animalistic noise tore through Aemond’s chest when you tightened around him one last time, your warm cunt fluttering around his cock. His rhythm faltered. What drove him over the edge was when he glanced down and saw the thick ring of your creamy arousal at the base of his cock. Gods, you were… beyond perfect.
With a staggered rasp of your name, he thrust into you thrice more before he spilled his seed deep in you, thick spurts of white coating your slick walls.
Heavy pants filled the room. You barely registered his lips kissing along your bare shoulder, where your dress had slipped in the midst of your heated frenzy. 
Slow, he eased himself out of you. “You did so well for me,” he murmured against your skin, smoothing his hands over your waist. “Are you alright?”
“Mmh,” you hummed, because no words would come to you at the moment.
He laughed, a wonderfully rich sound, before gently urging you towards the bed. 
“Get some rest, wife,” he told you, laying you onto the plush mattress and dipping down to kiss your forehead. He regarded you with raw adoration folded over his expression. Though, it was quick to melt into a thunderous one with his next sentence. “I have a certain knight to exchange words with.”
If you hadn’t been so high off your orgasms and exhausted with the new-found urge to sleep the whole night away, you would’ve realized that Aemond was likely going to commit manslaughter over something as trivial as a tourney favor. But you hadn’t thought about it much, not in your sex-addled haze, and promptly fell asleep with only the dream of silver-haired babes with wonderful purple eyes to accompany you. 
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gogogodzilla · 7 months
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day 4, cock warming
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charlie swan x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight almost getting caught, brief handjob, domestic charlie swan kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3
Sundays meant game day. They also meant Bella would be out of the house hanging out with Edward or one of the other Cullens. This also meant that you and Charlie got some much-needed alone time. The sun was setting, the last of the sun’s rays dipping behind the horizon. 
You padded into the dimly lit living room, cold beer in hand. The soft glow of the TV allowed you to make out your path. Charlie’s team had begun to lose horribly, and his eyes were beginning to glaze over. 
You set the beer on its designated coaster and approached his position sprawled out on the couch. Wordless you crawled on top of him, taking him by surprise. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat
“Hey there,” he said, affection and curiosity evident in his tone. 
“Hey,” you replied softly, wrapping your arms around him. 
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your sleep shirt left little to the imagination, and the bare skin was tantalizing. His hands drifted downward, and you forced yourself to focus on the game. 
You dragged yourself upward, making sure to grind against the imprint of his length. You disguised it as reaching for a blanket and covering the both of you. Charlie eyed you, the game completely forgotten, and you felt him twitch under you. 
His hands drifted under your sleep shirt and moved to cup your ass. Charlie sucked in a breath when he realized you weren’t wearing any underwear. 
“Whatcha up to, darlin’?”
You looked up at him innocently, “I’m just watching the game.” 
“Wanna explain where your underwear went?” 
You sat up to straddle him and grin. The blanket falls, splayed against Charlie’s thighs.  “Are you gonna search me, Chief Swan?” 
He dragged his fingertips along your bare thighs, eyes dancing across your features. “I think I might have to, miss,” he responded, donning the tone he used when he was working. 
Your smirk turned devilish as you slid your hand in between your bodies and palmed him. Charlie jutted his hips upward and met your movements. He leaned up to kiss you, his lips moving languidly against yours. 
His hands began to wander over the soft expanse of your back and eventually to your chest. He kneads your breasts and extends a thumb to glide across your nipple as you kiss him, eliciting a soft moan from the both of you. 
You pulled away and hooked a finger into the waistband of Charlie’s sweatpants and tugged, revealing what you’d been aching for all evening. You wrapped your hand around him and pumped it slowly, teasing him. He released a shaky breath as he bucked his hips. 
You lifted yourself up and swiped his cock through your folds, eliciting a gasp from the both of you. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him. His large hands grip your hips and helped you down, watching as your dripping core swallowed his cock. 
He hissed as he bottomed out. “So fucking tight, baby.” 
The sound of jingling keys into the lock of your front door caused you to jump, your pussy clenching around Charlie. 
You were quick to grab the edge of the blanket and cover the both of you. Your head nearly collided with Charlie’s chin in your hurry to lie down and act inconspicuously. The pounding of his heart reverberated against the shell of your ear as you rested your head on his chest. He twitched inside you, nervousness mixing with excitement. You’d never done anything this risky before. 
Bella’s footsteps neared, and you prayed she couldn’t see the scarlet dusting your cheeks. All you could focus on was just how deep Charlie was inside of you, and it was making your mind hazy. 
“Hey!” Charlie called, attempting to keep his tone even. “You’re home early.”
You lifted your head slightly to look at the teenager. 
“Yeah, we have a test tomorrow. Edward wanted me to have time to study,” she said nonchalantly. Charlie nodded, feigning approval. “Enjoy the game, guys,” Bella waved her goodbye and headed for her bedroom. 
Once you heard the familiar sound of her door clicking shut, you breathed out a sigh of relief. Charlie let out a soft groan. 
“That was close,” Charlie murmured, shifting his hips slightly. You nodded, your core still fluttering around him.
“Too close.” 
“How ‘bout we watch the game in our room?” 
You grinned before sliding off of him, biting your lip to prevent yourself from moaning. Your arousal was nearly dripping down your legs as you stood, and heat rushed to your cheeks at the sensation. 
Charlie quickly tucked himself back into his sweatpants before standing up from the couch, the imprint of his erection still very evident.
You held out a hand to him. “Don’t wanna miss too much of the game.” 
“No, we don’t,” he answered, lacing his fingers with yours and leading you to the bedroom.
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kechiwrites · 5 months
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choking hazard
simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader
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synopsis: you have a very special request for simon. he thinks you're insane.
wc: 1.3k
cw: afab!reader, choking, grinding, hotdogging, haphazard kink negotiation, thigh riding, playful name-calling, no use of y/n ever.
an: a quick little bite of simon and medic reader for this challenge, which i technically failed cause this is way over 100 words. happy thanksgiving
“What?” He asks, but really, it lacks the traditional inflection of a question. Instead, the single word manages to hold deep exhaustion and a healthy helping of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’. 
Which, rude.
You stomp your foot, the moue of your lips more than a little petulant. “Oh, come on, don’t make it weird. Just...a little. Enough to pass out.” you raise your hand and pinch the air for emphasis.
“What?” Oh! The inflection was back, and he’d shifted weight onto his other foot. His cotton mask allows for you to see the top half of his face today, and you’re grateful, because the furrow in his brow exposes that while he really wants to just up and leave this conversation, he’s far too curious, or maybe perplexed? Disturbed?
“I want you to choke me out, Simon.” You grin, shrugging, “preferably with your cock in me but...” You mutter to yourself, pressing your lips together and widening your eyes in mock innocence when he glares at you in response, obviously hearing you. 
“No.” He turns away from you, pushing around the ceramic skull you placed in your office. A paperweight, whose presence had absolutely no hidden, romantic meaning whatsoever, you’d simply seen it in a home goods display off base and snatched it up. 
It had been on sale. Or something.
“I’m a doctor.” You tap your name tag insistently, “I know my limits, Si.” Now you’re just trying to rile him up, as if he’d ever lay a hand on you in anger you didn’t expressly beg for. Still, he hates when you shorten his name, used to hate it when you said it at all. 
Thankfully, things change.
“Fucking quack.” He mutters and you make a loud, dramatic, wounded noise you’d heard in a K-Drama you had watched once before flipping back to your favourite period drama you’d watched a million times over. You flatten your hand against your chest and rear back, more for your own gratification than to impress your offence upon Simon. 
“I’m serious! I’m curious and I know it won’t cause any real, lasting damage.” You approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his middle. He flinches, not from surprise, you guess, but from sensation, before his body relaxes. You push your face between his shoulder blades, rubbing your nose against his shirt. 
“I’ll suck you off after.” You murmur, and the lieutenant snorts derisively. 
No dice.
“Then I’ll ask Soap to do it!” You release him, and circle around your desk, feigning a grab towards your cell phone.
He doesn’t rise to the bait initially, turning back to face you and crossing his inked, scarred arms. You ogle them shamelessly, eyes greedily tracing every bit of knicked skin, every prominent, tempting vein. Thing of beauty, his arms were. “Go on, then.” He shrugs and consternation makes you furrow your brow in defeat. Unfortunately, the closer the two of you become, the more bags of candy and suggestive texts and lingering glances you exchange, the easier it is to read the other’s intent, your bluffs. 
You pout, and kick at the corner of your own desk, shifting it slightly. “Fine. I wouldn’t ask him.” You tilt your head, pinning him with a needy look you hope is suitably enticing, “I’m asking you cause I trust you, Simon. Please?” 
Apparently, bald, earnest honesty is the ticket because your not-boyfriend heaves a sigh and uncrosses his arms, raising one to rub at the back of his neck, the black t-shirt he dons stretched tantalizingly tight over the curve of his muscled bicep.
Oh, this was going to be so good.
“Fine. Just don’t piss yourself.” 
“Do people do that?” You wrinkle your nose, and Simon levels you with a look, dark brown eyes broadcasting a stark “Do I fucking look like I’m joking?” 
Regardless, you clap your hands in celebration, locking the door to your office and sprinting back to stand in front of him, the framed photo of your commanding officer, your mother, and you looking on judgmentally. You try to ignore it but end up putting the photo down on its face, no need for dear mum and your boss to witness your fantasy come to life.
Simon turns you to face away from him, the heat of his hands seeping into your shoulders. He is always so warm. It had been a boon to your freezing feet the few times you’d shared a bed for actual sleeping. (He’d cursed at you for maybe a minute before hiking your legs up to bracket his hips, so you could fall asleep wrapped around him like a koala.)
“Double tap, you understand?” He barks, and you can’t help but shimmy in excitement. 
“Yup!” 
Simon wraps a burly arm around your neck, not exerting any pressure yet. He hooks his other arm around his wrist so it sits in his elbow, and places that palm on the crown of your head, securing you snugly in a standard choke-hold. 
“Good?” He mutters low, his chest blankets your back, and you're enveloped in the clean, sharp scent he usually carries with him.
You laugh, “Yeah-huh-huh-huh.” and you know you sound a little stupid, but you’re getting what you wanted and even without Simon utilizing force, you can feel yourself getting wet, forcing you to rub your thighs together in anticipation.
He begins to constrict your airway and it feels as though your head is ballooning, building up pressure as breathing slowly becomes more and more difficult. Your eyelids flutter closed and your lips part in shock. It doesn’t feel good, necessarily, but it certainly doesn’t feel bad. It’s obvious Simon’s holding back a lot. It probably should hurt but the lack of air makes your mind stutter to a stop, and all you can feel is Simon’s heat along your back and his strength holding you in place and his scent where it’s stalled in your lungs, unable to escape. When he shifts a bit behind you, your eyes pop back open in surprise at what you feel.
“You’re hard!” You wheeze incredulously, using the very last bit of air you had to call him out.
“And you’re a fucking lunatic.” He bites back, jerking his hips forward to rub his clothed erection against the swell of your ass. And he’s been doing that a lot lately, pushing up against your back, grinding along the fat of your thighs. Just last week, he’d spent a whole night hot-dogging (“Dumb fucking name, huh?”) the aching length of his dick between the cheeks of your ass, fucking against your flesh until he spilled hot and thick over your lower back.
You think he may be developing a thing.
He keeps rocking against you, branding his shape into your backside. “God.” He mutters, pulling you up and sliding his knee between your thighs. You can’t speak, what with your brain rapidly losing function, but if you could you’d hiss your assent, maybe scream when the muscles of his thigh nudge against your clit. 
Your lungs and cunt burn in unison, and the edges of your vision fade, but you want to keep going, want to come just like this, completely under his control, dry humping his massive thigh, unable to breathe.
Finally, you raise a shaky hand to tap at his forearm, and Simon immediately releases you, letting you stumble forward, off his leg and towards your desk. Your palms make contact with the polished wood and you hunch forward panting loud and hard. The room is fucking spinning, but all you can bring yourself to do is laugh like a fucking maniac.
“You good?” The soldier speaks, the sound of his footsteps just barely piercing through the sound of your rushing blood. Your voice is practically non-existent and you have to clear your throat three times, but when you do eventually croak out a response, your chest heaves with your desperate breaths in between your words. 
“Yeah, fuck yes.” Your chest slowly loses that frantic, mounting pressure and when you turn your head to look at Simon over your shoulder, his eyes are unfathomably dark and narrowed, running laps over your legs, thighs and ass.
“Good. Take your scrubs off. Right now.”
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spider-stark · 28 days
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INFINITELY YOU
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part two // crullers & constants
SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion
WORD COUNT - 4.2k
// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite
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name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker
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Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 
Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange. 
Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown. 
Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter. 
Or, at least, none that mattered. 
But things changed as time passed, as they so often do. 
It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play. 
Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift. 
After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether. 
And Peter never even asked why. 
“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?” 
Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.” 
And how true that must have been. 
There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too. 
He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night? 
Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.” 
You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?! 
 “Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?” 
It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.” 
Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter. 
You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?  
“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.” 
“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.” 
The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter. 
Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.” 
Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used. 
“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar. 
Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite. 
“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.” 
Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now. 
You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?” 
Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.” 
Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too. 
“Did he?” 
Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.” 
You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's. 
In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him. 
“Well did he have anything useful?” 
He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter. 
Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups. 
“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0. 
“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration. 
“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear. 
Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?” 
Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation. 
“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.” 
Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite. 
“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?” 
“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.” 
You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?” 
Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch. 
“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?” 
By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him. 
Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.” 
“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.” 
Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.” 
“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth. 
Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.” 
“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?” 
“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?” 
You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.” 
“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.” 
Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now! 
“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?” 
“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-” 
“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!” 
He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.” 
“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief. 
“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded. 
If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere. 
You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now. 
“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down… 
Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.” 
Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell. 
“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered. 
He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night? 
“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.” 
He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips. 
Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world. 
But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all. 
The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone. 
Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting. 
Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway. 
“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!” 
He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!” 
You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else. 
“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?” 
You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?” 
Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.” 
His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse. 
“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully. 
“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter. 
There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!” 
You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.” 
Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?” 
In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task. 
Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway. 
“Mj happened.” 
Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?” 
“Yep. That’s the one.” 
“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.” 
It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.” 
In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease. 
“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth. 
You sucked in a breath. 
“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.” 
His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 
Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours. 
But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth. 
“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.” 
“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?” 
An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance. 
“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.” 
“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn���t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-” 
“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.” 
“I’m not pretending-” 
Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.” 
Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.” 
There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest. 
“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.” 
“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?” 
Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”
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series masterlist
a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.
as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!
part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th
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slamminslamminmcgill · 2 months
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joel’s pussy eating game is RIDICULOUS!!!!! he claims to be into servicing ppl and he is but…. it’s more in service of himself tbh bc of how selfish and hungry he is
warning: squirting, oral, rimming
anatomical terms: cunt/pussy, clit/t-dick
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he’ll start slow to ease you into it. long, broad strokes of his flattened tongue up your slit. wet kisses dotting your clit. lots of spit to get you nice and wet for his tongue to just glide along your cunt however which way he sees fit.
and once your own juices start to flow, loosening you up for him, it’s blood to a shark. one drop hits his tongue and he’s GONE.
“fuckin’ christ, you taste good. yeah… yeah, i need more of that.”
joel smushes his face into your pussy, his stubble prickling your hypersensitive skin, and he fucking LATCHES his mouth on your clit, bouncing his lips off your sodden flesh as he sucks you off. soon you’re leaking enough that he can slide two fingers into you with ease. he curls them up into your g-spot and keeps them there, pushing your button over and over to get you to burst.
and may god help you if you squirt.
it splashes against his face and you hear a deep, rumbling, feral growl. it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard from a man. one that reminds you of our basest urges, that we are naught but beasts at heart. horny fucking beasts possessed by pheromones and need.
“fuck yeah, c’mon. c’mon, gimme another.” he demands, starting his fingers right back up again, right into the swollen trigger point that has you gushing over and over. a firm hand cuts through the typhoon with a loud-
(SMACK)
on the meat of your ass.
“sit on my face. i wanna drink you.”
you peel yourself off his leather couch, knees buckling like a newborn fawn as you stand, and hobble over to where he’s laying on the carpet. he’s frantic, aggressive and repetitive in his orders.
“get over here... get over here, boy... get over here…”
your knees flank his head, facing his legs, and you lower yourself down until your pussy bumps his nose. he starts licking right away. you look down and his cock is throbbing, an angry shade of red. being that he’s been so generous to you, you see fit to return the favor. you lean down and take his cock in your hands, though you barely get to kiss it before joel intervenes.
“nope.”
he hooks his arms under your armpits, grabs you by the shoulders, and YANKS you backwards, pulling your face away from his cock and holding your back upright.
“nuh uh. fuck my face. i want you to use me. don’ worry ‘bout my cock, sweetheart, just fuck my face.”
you hesitantly hump his face, tiny jerks of your hips to get used to the feeling and get a rhythm down. as you grow accustomed to it, your soaked cunt easily glides across his face, your swollen t-dick bumps his lips and he sucks it in his mouth. his tongue swipes between your pussy and ass, your juices dripping down his cheeks.
eventually, you squirt again, just a tiny bit.
but it’s not enough.
“give it to me.” joel barks, and shoves his fingers back in for some not-so-gentle encouragement. “c’mon, kid, give it to me. squirt down my fuckin’ throat, c’mon. lemme drink you. gimme somethin’ sweet to drink, baby boy.”
you give him exactly what he wants, squirting right into his mouth in hot jets. his growl vibrates your entire cunt and he slurps it all up.
when it gets to be too much, you roll off him and onto the floor. the two of you lay side by side, gasping for air. his face is dripping, his wet hair resting on an incriminating wet spot on the carpet. you’re staring at the ceiling as it swirls, creating beautiful constellations in combination with the stars in your vision. joel reaches out and tugs you close to him. his overworked lips smooch your forehead, and he says,
“good boy. hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my fuckin’ life.”
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skyebounded · 8 months
Text
Better Unspoken
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© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.
Masterlist   .Harry Potter Universe Masterlist.
premise: Theo isn't sure how much more he can take without telling you what you mean to him.
pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
warnings: angst, swearing... My type of Love Confession!!!
wc: 2.8K
a/n: I'm sorry. <3
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His strides seemed to slow, the once steady pace that you had set, had fallen short. You were leading, blissfully unaware of the lack of companionship by your side in the moment. Theo had fallen victim to the very thoughts that plagued him, letting them dictate his every move as he watched you trudge forward, back up to the castle doors, happily. He watched as you laughed to yourself at the conversation you were seemingly having with him. He watched the snow fall onto your cheeks, instantly melting at your touch, or the way it coated your beanie and coat. He was mesmerised by you, every little thing that you did, he was mesmerised. You had been with one of his closest friends for some time now, and yet he couldn't seem to be happy for you, for Enzo, and it was simple really, he couldn’t because it wasn't him that you were happy with. 
“Crazy, righ- Theo?” You turned around, stopping in your tracks to face him. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and his body ridgid. “Are you okay?” You spoke so softly, your words so caring and delicate as you approached him. Theo made no move, no gesture towards you, it was only a numb look. His gaze fell to the imprinted snow beneath your feet, studying it as if it had the answer to his questions. It had been eating him alive. This past year tearing him apart little by little, and he wasn't sure that he could keep it to himself any longer. He felt as though he had to tell you, no matter the consequences, he just had to. Your voice, softly calling his name again, had him looking back up at you, his eyes soft and sorrowful, and it scared you. He took a step forward, leaning his head down slightly before he opened his mouth, taking a deep breath. 
“I have to tell you something, and I….” He was struggling to find the words, glancing around like he was waiting for someone to help him out. 
“What is it, Theo? Can it wait till we get to the cast-” you start, before he cuts you off, taking another step towards you in desperation. 
“y/n….please just listen to me…”
“Oka-what do you mea-” you started, a hint of panic in your tone. His suddenty was making you nervous, that is until realisation hit you. Standing there, staring up at him, the crazed look in his eyes, and you knew. Knew what he meant, what he wanted to say. You could see what was hiding behind that look, the soft yearning, and need for understanding, the pleading, far before it had even begun. There was no coming back from what he was about to say, nothing that could be done to stop it, but you had to try. You shook your head, your breath hitching the moment he took another step forward, mere inches from where you stood. You held your breath, staring at him, nearly frozen out of fear. 
“Theo, please. Don't do this, please don't do this-” It was barely a whisper that left you, and he heard it, you knew he had, but it didn’t stop him. He moved forward, frantically reaching out for you as if he would never get the chance to touch you again, as his hands met your arms, grabbing them as he lowered himself just enough to be level to you. 
“I have too, I have to tell you how I fee-” He started. You could hear the urgency dripping off of each word, the way he seemed to speak as if he was fearful that he would never get his chance to say it again. His eyes darted between your own, a glass like glaze over the soft shade of blue, as he searched for some type of understanding behind them.
“No Theo, no you don’ t, you don-” It was almost a whine, an involuntary beg on your part, as you pulled from his grasp, and yet made no movement to get away from him. 
“Y/n, please, you have to understand, I can’t help it, i can’t just stop it, you know that, you know I can’t-” 
“Theo think! Please! Think about Enzo..” you tried, tried to make him think about his lifelong friend, the one that stood between the pair of you and everything that Theo wanted. “He is your best friend, your best friend! Please, please think about that before you say what you are about to say. Theo pleas-”
“I know, I know he is, trust me I know-” there it was again, the shaky breath, the soft tones of imploration. 
“Enzo, Theo-” you pleaded, forcing back tears that were on the cusp of escaping.
“And I know that! I know that y/n, and I love him like a brother I promise you I do, but I can’t just sit by. I can’t! Not without telling you how I feel, y/n please-” he implored, his hands coming up to reach for you again, only to fall flat by his side when you shy away from him. He hated this, seeing the way you were fighting him, the way you were pleading with him to stop, but he couldn’t let you. Perhaps it came down to some diluted fantasy, one where you would allow him to tell you how he felt, one where you would see what he meant, see his desperation and the desire for you, that you would have some type of understanding and would chose him, and sure he knew that wasn't going to be the case, but he had to hope. 
“Theo…” you mutter, your heart breaking for him, for the wounded way he was looking at you, for the way his hands were nearly clasped together as if he were in prayer begging for forgiveness. “Theo ple-”
“Y/n I am in love with you, and I can't just make it go away…I can’t-I can’t, and I can’t by any means keep it to myself..not anymore, y/n. Not when it is killing me little by little..” he couldn’t seem to stop himself as he spoke. His voice hoarse and broken as the confession that he had been holding in for only merlin knows how long now, was pouring from him as if he had no control over it anymore in floods of pathetic desperation. Perhaps he didn’t have any control. Perhaps the lie that he had been living was tearing him apart piece by piece, and the only way to soothe it was to get it out to you, to explain and pray that you could understand, no matter the repercussions it was sure to have. It had begun to take its toll on him, watching you with Enzo, pretending that he was nothing but happy for the pair of you. It consumed him, driving him to mere madness and this felt like the only way to solve it, and he hated it. He hated himself for it, for thinking that it was okay, that maybe there was a chance he could steal you for himself, a chance that you would want him just as much as he wanted you. He hated himself for doing this behind his best friends back without so much as a care. It was so unbelievable selfish and he knew that, but he didn’t care, he couldn’t care not when he had spent all this time loving you, watching you, needing you. He knew what this could mean for his relationships with not only you, but Enzo too, and he was willing to throw it all away for that small sliver of hope that you would return his feelings. 
Theo took a deep shaky breath, trying his hardest to read your thoughts, to see if he could understand even the slightest bit of what you were feeling towards him, but the moment your lips parted, he panicked, fear consuming him. He couldn’t let you speak out towards his admission, he couldn’t let you stop him. 
Your hand reached up to silence him, to cover his mouth and cease the flow of the poison he was trying to spew, but it was of no use, he was faster. He reached out grabbing ahold of your hands, soothingly running his thumbs gently over the tops of them, appalled at how cold your touch was. Your hands were frozen, you were cold, and here he was, selfishly keeping you outside the castle walls, simply for his own greed. He couldn’t feel nature's effect, not anymore, not while fuelled with pure adrenaline, but you, a poor innocent bystander in this, could. He clamped your hands together, hoping that covered by his, could find some warmth in them. 
“Y/n…I can’t…I can’t go on like this, knowing that I feel this way.” He was breaking, and you could see it. He needed you to feel something other than an undeniable no. He needed reassurance that this, what he was confessing wasn’t for nothing, but you couldn’t give him that, not now. You wanted to reach out for him, to offer him some type of comfort no matter how small, but what would that fix? Nothing, and though you hated to admit it, you were afraid that it might not only give him some senses of hope, but also that it would do nothing more than confuse not only him, but you. You loved Theo, you always had, and perhaps not in the way that he did for you, or at least never to the degree that he was experiencing. There was a small sliver of you that once wanted him the way he wanted you now, and that small sliver was begging you on its own to let him continue to pour his heart out. But you loved Enzo, and you had for some time now. You loved him and who you were with him, and nothing was worth risking that over. All you could do was to shake your head, soft desperate ‘no’s escaping you, praying, no, pleading that he would stop, that he would give up, because it wasn’t fair, none of it was. You sunk your teeth, feebly into your quivering bottom lip, slowly shaking your head, your eyes flooded with unreleased tears. You weren’t breathing, holding onto that breath like a tether, as you waited. 
“I have to make you understand…I can’t spend another moment listening to the stories of you and Enzo, knowing that it should be by your side, that it should be me taking care of you, making you smile and laugh, making you happy every waking chance that I can… I can’t take more of pretending that it doesn't hurt me, or that I’m okay when I'm really not.  Y/n, please, I am begging you…make it stop, please for me…. Tell me you- tell me you love me or- no, just tell me you love m-….” he couldn’t finish his sentence, the words caught in the back of his throat as he looked down at you with those soft pleading eyes, that glass-like look to his eyes now one filled with tears of his own, but the tears that were beginning to fall from your eyes held him captive, they silenced him. 
He could feel his world shattering before him as he looked at you, could feel you pulling away in ways that he knew he couldn’t follow, couldn’t pull you back from. He had single handedly ruined the only thing in his life that had any meaning to him whatsoever. You were slipping from him, and knew that no matter what he did, there was no going back. Nothing was going to fix this, it had been ruined beyond repair, and it was killing him. He couldn’t stand to see that pitiful look reflected on your face, the one that confirmed everything he was thinking, the one that caused him to stop breathing in a moment of lasting heartbreak, the one that filled him with horror. It was over, he was certain of it.  He couldn’t be your friend, not after what he had just told you, not when he knew that you would go back and tell Enzo, not when he knew you hated him, and that he was sure of. 
It wasn’t the truth though, you didn’t hate him, you weren’t even sure that that was something that you were capable of even doing when it came to Theo, but you couldn’t lie, you hated what he had done. You hated it because it meant that no matter what he or you wanted, things were no longer going to be the same. You couldn’t give him what he needed, craved, and you hated that. Theo deserved the world, but a world that you couldn’t offer him. The tears were rolling freely from your eyes now, staining your blushed stained cheeks. All semblances of the cold were lost on you, you felt nothing but numb, and remorseful, even a little bit angry. He had ruined something that was so utterly good, and thought you were angry at him for that, you couldn’t really blame him. You felt as though your heart had sunk like a bag of stones into your gut, weighing heavy as you fought the urge to keep your gaze on him. It was over, and you didn’t know what to say. You wanted to lash out on him, shove him back and tell him to say it was all a cruel joke, because maybe then you could forgive him, forget it, but you knew that no matter how much you wanted that, it wouldn’t be the truth. He had said his piece, and what was done was done.
“That's-that's not fair.” you cried, holding onto your composure with a literal thread. You pulled your hands from him, using your index finger to shove it into his hard chest. “That is not fucking fair! That's bullshit, Theo!” you couldn’t hold back the tears, the aggression, the ache in your chest, and you wanted him to know. He groaned, exhaling that single breath that he was clinging too, as you repeatedly jabbed your finger into his chest. 
“You don’t! You don’t get to ask that of me! You dont get to say that, not now, not fucking now! You- you don't-..” you argued through clenched teeth, but your voice trailed off. It was as if you were at a loss for the right words. Nothing that you were going to say would really express how you felt, how torn you were, nor were they going to repair any of it. He took a step towards you, ready to reach for you, and you shuffled back, nearly tripping over your own blasted feet. “No. no you’re mean, and you're selfish…” you blurted. tears rolling down your face, your breathing coming out in jagged spurts.  
Merlin, he would do anything to go back and hold onto what he had said, to pretend like he wasn’t being destroyed by his feelings for you. Back to pretending that whenever he heard the latest of your relationship with his best friend, it didn't wound him more than any physical ailment he could ever experience. Anything to see you smile, and drone on about this and that, rather than to have your cold, accusatory finger being shoved into his heart. Quite literally anything and he would do it, no matter the costs. That's when it hit him. Shoving his hand into the depths of his coat pocket, his fingers carefully wrapped around his wand, looking at you with such a shattering look of sorrow. He was sorry, so unbelievably sorry. Sorry he hurt you, sorry that it confused you, sorry that he ruined his relationship with you, and even more so, sorry that he had told you. 
“I’m so sorry..” was all he could offer in respite. 
You huffed, brushing him off as you staggered back, as he repeated soft ‘i’m sorry’s. You sighed, fighting ever urge to tell him to fuck off.
“Fuck you, Theo..” you sighed, turning your back to him for a brief moment, wiping the tears from your eyes with your sleeve, trying desperately to get them to stop.
“Obliviate,” he muttered, and you didn't even have the time to react, to turn around and deflect, before a soft haze set over you. He watched as the silver glow at the end of his wand faded, before slowly lowering it to his side. He wasn’t sure that he could do this again, to be your friend after what he had done. Being so close to you, but not being able to have you, or to tell you what you meant to him, because after all was said and done, you weren’t his, you never were, and he knew now, that you never would be.
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1K notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
Text
Nena V
Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader
Summary: You're sick
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It started with a little cough.
Ingrid didn't really think anything of it. Sometimes, you just had a cough. It wasn't really a big thing which was why she was so happy to leave you in Mapi's company while she went to do some media things.
Only, the cough seemed to be getting worse.
It started out as a little tickle in the back of your throat at breakfast and then got more and more scratchy as time went on. Your head started to pound too and your arms felt all weird and heavy in a way that you had never really experienced before.
"Hey," Mapi said, shaking you lightly," Are you okay?"
You shook your head, eyes squeezing shut. "My throat don' like me, Mapi," You said, squeezing at your neck as if it would help.
You coughed again. Your eyebrows drew together after it took you a while to stop.
From just outside your field of vision, a hand moved until it was pressed against your forehead.
Your frown deepened as you darted your eyes to the side. The hand belonged to Irene. You looked at her.
She was frowning too. "Does it hurt to swallow, Nena?"
You nodded miserably.
"Say aah."
"Aah!"
Irene moved closer so she could look in your mouth, frown deepening for a moment before she drew away and nodded.
"You've got a case of tonsillitis there, Nena."
You don't know that word but you nodded because Irene is a mama and mamas know things like this.
"Tonsillitis?!" Mapi exclaimed, her voice going very squeaky," Shit! Is she going to die? Do we need to call an ambulance?!"
Irene rolled her eyes. "She just needs some medicine and for you to calm down. Once Ingrid's back, you can take her home. It's not that serious."
Mapi certainly looked like this was serious. "Does she need them removed?!"
Irene laughed. "Not right now. If it gets worse or keeps happening then yes, maybe, but what she needs now is medicine and some water. Calm down, Mapi."
Mapi took a deep breath before panic flashed on her face. "I don't have kid's medicine!"
"I do." Irene pulled a little bottle out of her bag and shook it. "I was meant to bring it home for Matteo but I'm sure he can share."
You dutifully took the medicine even though it tasted kind of yucky and drank the water Mapi put in front of you.
Breakfast was easy after that but there was separate training for the defenders so Mapi had to hand you off to someone else to watch.
Tia Alexia sat next to you when she took a break from her gym session.
You felt better than earlier but still a little bad.
Tia Alexia checked your temperature like how Irene did and you leaned into her cold hand. She laughed.
"Careful there, Nena," She said," Don't go falling asleep on me."
"'m not sleepin'," You slurred, forcing your eyes open and squinting at her.
"Sure you're not," Alexia said, pushing the hair out of your eyes," But I need those eyes of yours open. Can I check your throat?"
Everyone had been checking your throat now. Irene did it earlier. Mapi did it a lot before she trained. Even Marta and Caro had looked at it for some reason.
It was routine now so you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue.
Alexia looked inside for a moment, nodding a few times before getting you to drink from your water bottle. She checked your throat again afterwards before she went back to her weights.
She kept looking back at you though, as if to check you hadn't disappeared or anything.
Honestly, you don't think that you have the strength to just up and disappear. You were content to be miserable on the floor with your scratchy throat until your next babysitter came to get you.
You missed Ingrid. You wish she finished her job so she could come and get you. Last year when you had the flu, Ingrid flew all the way back home to make sure you were okay. Mama didn't like that because she thought it was making you co-dependent or something but Ingrid and you didn't care.
Ingrid made the best soup and she had medicine that tasted nice, not like the one that Irene gave you earlier.
"What with the grumpy face, Nena?" Lucy asked as she joined you, poking at your cheek. "Why aren't you smiling?"
"Ingrid's not here," You whined," And I'm sick."
"You're sick? How come?"
"I just am!" As if the punctuate your point, you flew into a big coughing fit.
Lucy looked very worried, flapping her hands about like Mapi did earlier and looking around the room as if someone would save her.
Tia Alexia came back and wedged the straw of your bottle back into your mouth as soon as you finished coughing.
"When is Ingrid done?" She asked as you drank your water," Nena really needs to go home. Some cuddles and a nap would do her wonders."
"She should be done soon," Lucy said," I don't think she knows yet. I can go and check."
"No," Alexia said," I'll send Patri and Pina. You've still got a gym session to get through."
"I can wait with her until Ingrid comes," Lucy insisted, looking down pointedly at you as you began to scratch at your throat again," Do we need to give her more medicine? She looks uncomfortable."
Alexia looked at her watch. "We've still got another two hours before we can give her another dose."
You scratched harder at your throat and Lucy gently took your hand to bring it away. You whined a little, pulling out her grip. She was running warm. You didn't like that. You wish she were cold like Tia Alexia was.
Lucy was like a furnace as she sat next to you and you edged as far away as possible. You tugged at your shirt and kept having to shift around because your clothes were sticking uncomfortably to your skin.
Your throat was getting very scratchy again and you whined.
"Ooh," A new voice said," That doesn't sound very good."
You whined again and raised your arms.
Ingrid picked you up instantly, checking your forehead with the back of her hand and looking down your throat like everyone else had done.
"Irene says there's somethin' wrong with my tonsils," You replied.
Ingrid smiled, pushing your head into her neck. "That's okay," She said," How about we go home? I'll make you some soup and we'll have some cuddles."
"With Bagheera?"
"Yes, with Bagheera."
"Is your Mapi coming?"
"Mapi can come too."
"And I get soup?"
Ingrid laughed. "Yes, you get soup."
"Okay."
692 notes · View notes
allmcl · 3 months
Text
❤︎ : MCL BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS !!
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MCL BOYS . . . and little things about being in a relationship with them + habits they would have.
pairing. ot5 x f!reader
genre. fluff, little bit suggestive.
settle. established relationship ofc, this situates in mcl hsl since they´re teenagers in here.
content warning. mentions of sex in nath´s part but is way too subtle, kissing and the boys being whipped for you.
author´s note. i tried to make this as accurate and long as i could!! i love them so much :(
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✧. - ̗̀ CASTIEL . . .
1. he would have such a SOFT spot for you, and it would be so obvious. you are basically the only one who can make him feel better when he is angry, and even though it may not seem like it, it is always very difficult for him to get angry with you. most of the fights you have are mostly in a joking way, mainly because he is way too patient with you, what makes it difficult for you to factually fight, and if it happens it has to be for a good reason. whenever he has a problem, or feels angry for some reason, he turns to you because he discovered that your presence calms him in some way, and he is more likely to take into account what you say about it than what other people say (literally does not care if someone tells him that something he´s doing is rude until you point it out). plus he can't help but give in to your attempts to make him smile when he's upset, which would bother him if it were someone else.
2. he would let you touch his electric guitar (which could result in homicide if someone else tried), he literally wouldn't care at all about trusting it to you. plus, I'm sure castiel would love to teach you how to play it, even if you understand absolutely nothing about music. from time to time he would teach you how to play easy melodies and tease you throughout the process, lovingly of course. it would be adorable to see him excitedly talking to you about something he likes, explaining in his own way how you should hold it, helping you by placing his hands on yours and smiling proudly when you achieve it. he wouldn't care if you couldn't do it, he'd really just enjoy spending time with you laughing when you hit the wrong note or when you forget what he was explaining to you. but it is true that he would be very excited to be able to share that with you.
3. so BOLD. i feel like all the time he would be saying the most out of pocket stuff that would make you blush intensely, and laugh about it because teasing YOU it´s his favorite thing to do. HE HAS NO SHAME, he wouldn't mind saying totally unexpected things in public or private just to see how your face immediately turns red. also would totally make dirty jokes just to watch your expression, also kissing you in public to fluster you would happen very often (i also feel like he wouldn´t do it in front of close friends, but would totally do it in front of strangers.) you could say that his main hobby is definitely embarrassing you.
4. SUCH A HEAVY SLEEPER, you could literally be shouting next to him but he would keep sleeping like a baby, not even MOVING the slightest. it´s funny because the only moment where he would actually wake up because of some movement, it would be when you pull away from his grip while cuddling for any reason. half awake he would simply mumble questions about why you moved, or just blink hard trying to see where you are so he can hug you again. his favorite way to cuddle would be spooning you, i don´t make the rules. he just loves feeling you snuggle against him and pull you closer. he woudn´t mind being spooned either if you liked it, but would prefer it the other way around.
5. he could be SO oblivious sometimes. like, for example, if you changed something in your looks he would take a good few minutes before noticing. or maybe with other things like you being mad. every time you would distance yourself from him because you´re angry, he wouldn´t notice. mainly because i feel like you two totally respect each other when needing space, but after you answering in a very sassy way he would just realize that maybe the reason of you distancing was something bothering you. he tries so hard tho to figure out these things 😭😭
6. used to dying his hair by himself since always, but it just takes a little insistence from you to let you help him. over time, it becomes a habit for both of you, so he always ask for your help whenever he´s about to start his hair treatment. it always ends up being a mess anyway, because he loves to get dye all over you whenever you do it just to annoy you a bit. (he also uses it as an excuse for you to massage his hair when washing it). and in case you would want to dye your hair he would gladly do it for you. but he just finds this moments so cute that he would do it so carefully and gently.
7. suddenly pull you into his lap to make you nervous, but actually enjoys a lot holding you. also loves to hold your waist, like, EVERYTIME. when you´re walking, hes already sliding his arm around ur waist. you two can be hugging and the first thing he would do is wrap his arms around your waist. the same when he´s kissing you, loves to pull you from the waist. would never admit how much he loves laying his head on your chest while cuddling, it soothes him.
8. for some reason i think castiel ignores EVERY message he gets. he´s just too lazy to answer, but only takes the time to answer yours. no matter the time, the place, or what he´s doing, he´ll type something back in response to whatever you sent. is also a huge hater on emojis, he would literally glare at the screen every time you send one. hate stickers too. ALSO HAS YOU AS HE WALLPAPER. would kill anyone who dares to tease about it. his phone has also a secret folder full of cute pictures of you. maybe sleeping, a blurry one walking, laughing, little videos of you two kissing, messing around, and he looks at every single one of them every time he misses you. he would be actually so shy if you ever saw it, he´s just so in love with you what can i say.
9. his kisses are the mos passionate thing ever. is just something about the way he makes you chase after him when he pulls away, the way even though he is normally unintentionally rough he completely changes when his lips are on yours. holding you so close to him by your waist, biting your lips from time to time, teasing you before actually kissing you, tracing the curves of your body while he deepens the kiss. he literally leaves you breathless every. single. time. the only way to fluster him is pulling him by his shirt and kissing him, he enjoys every time you do it even thought when you pull away you can see his blushing face.
✧. - ̗̀ NATHANIEL . . .
1. literally the most shy person at the start of your relationship. i think it would depend a lot when you two started dating. if it´s like in the game, he´ll probably won´t take long before actually being comfortable in the relationship. he´s been in one before, but the difference is that he never felt the way he does with you. i think he would anyway be so nervous to do almost anything. kissing, hugging, even expressing his love for you (which he does unconsciously anyways). he would wait for your consent before trying something like that until you literally have to explain to him that you´re totally fine with all of that.
2. he always find a way to help you anyway he can. it doesn´t matter what you´re struggling with, he will always be there to give you a hand. something i feel like something he always does for you, is remember the little things. i just think that nath is the kind of boyfriend who would be so attentive. he sometimes know you better than yourself, so he will always have your stuff prepared in case you need to go somewhere, he would bring you food he remembers you like, and would totally finish your homework for you when you´re too tired to do it yourself. he literally doesn´t care because he genuinely wants you to rest :(
3. SCARED of public pda. it´s not like a doesn´t want other people to know about your relationship or something, but he would never recover if someone saw you kissing, he´s just like that. anyway he´s totally fine with hand holding, you guys do it all the time. when he walks you home he always find a subtle way to graze his hand with yours until you get the hint (because he´s too nervous to ask you), and finally take his hand in yours. honestly, loves the intimacy it comes with it. loves to hold your hand under the table in a big group of people, while guiding you in crowds, while kissing, literally all. the. time. he takes hand holding even wen you´re both in bed, apart from the act itself, feels that holding your hand is a reminder that there are indeed feelings involved, gently intertwining fingers and gently pressing your hand from time to time in a loving gesture.
4. would love recommending books to you, and reading together. just laying in your lap while reading a book is all he needs to be happy. it´s okay tho if you don´t really enjoy reading, he just likes doing it in your company. in the case you like movies better, he would be fine watching anything you want, but secretly really likes romance movies. i strongly think that he randomly started reading to you at night whenever you stayed with him in his apartment. nath´s voice is so sweet and calm, that it lulls you to sleep almost instantly. also, he probably has the softest hands ever, and even softer every time he plays with your hair, so if you ever have trouble sleeping, you don´t have to worry about that anymore.
5. nath is mostly a light sleeper, and i think he is so prone to have nightmares. he sleeps better every time your next to him because you´re always ready to comfort him in case he wakes up scared. sometimes, when he´s alone and wakes up after having a horrible dream, he would think a lot about what to do since he just can´t sleep right away, the memories of the bad dream still livid. he would finally decide to text you something. if you´re up, he would like to call you and fall asleep while talking to you. if you´re not, he would just listen to your voice audios and try to regain sleep.
6. nath kisses are THE SWEETEST. he just adores kissing you when you´re alone. he always control himself when you´re in a public space, but in school would almost always wait for you both to be alone in the delegates room and would have a short make out sesh. he looks innocent, but he would be so passionate while kissing you. pressing you against the table, nibbling your lips, pulling you closer by the waist, the whole package. but the way he holds you is the purest thing i swear, so delicate and sweet that you get totally confused at the way he kisses you afterwards. he also loves staying there with you, simply hugging and pecking you in the lips form time to time.
7. loves back hugs. giving and receiving them. every time he´s stressed, you come up to him, and you just stay there, carefully squeezing his wait as you engulf him in a big hug. something about it makes him fell at ease, the closeness, the warmth, and the way your arms wrap around his torso and just stay there in complete silence, like you don´t need to say anything. when he´s upset, he does it a lot too and stays there like you´re some kind of charger. while sleeping is the exact same thing. i think we all remember that one episode in mcl where candy lays in nath´s bed and just hug him from behind. well, that´s exactly how i see them cuddling. no all the time tho, if you like being the little spoon is totally okay for him.
8. always sending you encouraging texts through the day: wishing you a good day, reminding you of something, sending some meme he finds funny, LOTS of stickers between texts, and stuff like that that totally brighten your day. also constantly likes to send you pics of his cat, calling you her mom all the time, which never fails to melt your heart. you´re the few people he trust enough to let you play with the little animal, hold her, feed her, and just petting it.
9. i feel like you two almost never really fight, just debate about stuff. but when something actually happens between i actually think nath would give you the silent treatment, in case you´re the one who messed up. also would give you that exasperated expression of him when he´s too stressed, and would be very petty. he would wait for you to come and apologize to him, which won´t long because he just can´t stay mad at you for too long. and if you´re the on who´s mad, in the first place he wouldn´t let you go, he would sit you down, wait till you´re not so angry, and talk about it while apologizing. he would try to understand you and give the time and space you need, still checking on you until you´re ready to forgive him.
✧. - ̗̀ LYSANDER . . .
1. the most romantic person in earth. he´s the kind of boyfriend who would LOVE to make handmade gifts for you. letters, crafts, and in general small details of things you like. dedicating love songs to you, most of the, written by him, leaving you notes throughout the day. i also feel like he would never forget to say good morning or good night to you, it's just part of his routine at this point. also has a lot of drawings of you in his note book, and is the most heartwarming thing ever. doodles of your face in his books, and some perfectly made drawings that would have him blushing if you ever saw one.
2. everything, but like, EVERYTHING reminds him of you. finds you in every single thing he looks at. it can be a cute picture, some object, a flower, a song. he always projects in the things he does, and mos of the time you´re the only thing he thinks about. i just feel like he he´s so whipped for you to a point where you won´t even understand. zones out all the time, mostly when he starts thinking of you (cough, cough, all day, cough).
2. castiel is TIRED. he talks his ear off all day about you, just ranting about every little thing you do for him. he literally knows so much about you two that he´s like the third one in the relationship at this point. he also notices how lysander always find a way to add something about you in every song. when it´s a song that they share, is very subtle, he just knows it because he probably mentioned it. but in the songs lys writes in his private notebook, they literally BASED on you.
3. LOVES to sing for you. his favorite moments are when you just lay your head in his lap and listen to his soothing voice whispering the lyrics of some song he wrote, which you instantly notice is about you. he doesn´t try to hide it anyway, but for some reason i feel like no matter how many songs he sang to you he just gets nervous every time. no because he thinks you won´t like it or something, is just that he talks about you in them in a way that is so disgustingly sweet and in love. also writes a lot of poems for you, and leaves them in your seat at the start of the day and loves watching your reaction while you read it.
4. stares a lot at you, in the most sweet way ever. actually so good at making eye contact (finds adorable how you´re always the first to look away blushing). his eyes literally shine the brightest when they´re focused on you, he doesn´t even blink for long seconds. his favorite past time is memorizing your features. this is why he know exactly how to read you. lys always know the exact face you make when you´re mad, the way you furrow your eyebrows when you´re confused or disagree with something, he know the exact color of your eyes, he literally knows your entire body language at this point, you don´t even have to talk because he already figured out what you´re thinking.
5. i feel like he´s the one normally initiating pda anywhere. he doesn´t really shows much affection in public, but would love having you sit on his lap while wrapping his arms around you and pressing his head against your back. lots of affection while passing by, just because he genuinely can´t keep his hands from himself. brushing his hand in your waist while passing, quick cheek kisses, lovesick smiles in the distance, instantly finding you in a crowded place and seeing him look at you with hearts in his eyes from afar, brief back hugs.
6. FOREHEAD KISSES. FOREHEAD KISSES. FOREHEAD KISSES. i think his main love language. he just finds forehead kisses something so sweet and intimate that he does it all the time. after a kiss he pulls away just to softly kiss your forehead. when he hugs you, he kisses your forehead or the top of your head because hes way more taller than you. while sleeping he does the same thing, since his favorite cuddle position is facing each other he kisses your forehead from time to time before dozing off.
7. his kisses are truly the most delicate thing ever. is just something about the way he pulls you closer, not even touching you, just placing his fingertips in your chin, tilting your face up to kiss you so slow, savoring the moment, tracing your jawline and carefully cupping your cheek after. and the way he pulls away makes you instantly chase after him. he´s so gentle, holding you like you´re made of glass, even sometimes biting so softly you just feel a little tingling sensation before he returns to kiss you sweetly.
8. loves taking care of you. every time you need help, just call, he´s there for you. you´re sick? he´s standing in front of your door with a bag full of food, your favorite snacks, and meds. you´re hungry? he doesn´t mind buying things for you, but prefers making the most delicious homemade meals (husband material fr). if you normally sleep late, he will totally scold you for not taking care of yourself and always makes sure you ate, drank enough water, and slept full 8 hours.
9. surprisingly good at giving advice, he just know how to say the right thing in the right moment, he doesn´t like arguments, so he normally hates fighting with you. he truly doesn´t mind who´s right and who´s wrong, all he wants is talk things out with you to fix everything. so he does the same thing when you fight to someone, he strongly believes the best way to make things up is giving each other and space and accepting your mistakes. also i totally know that it doesn´t matter how mad he is at you, he would never raise his voice or disrespect you. the way he still cares for you ad calls you cute names while subtly showing affection is the most heartwarming thing. he wouldn´t mess things up with you because of a temporary fight.
✧. - ̗̀ ARMIN . . .
1. can we all agree that armin and you are married, live together and raise your 4 children in sims? the moment you found about it was the literal most funny thing ever, he was casually showing you how he designed you two in his game and made a family in there, explaining everything with so much detail it actually seemed so real. YOU LITERALLY LOOK THE SAME IN THE GAME IT´S SURPRISING. he secretly wishes that his future with you looks exactly like that. it may seem like something he does for fun, but he literally aspires to have all of that with you.
2. gives you the most out of pocket petnames you can think of. both of you love to fight with each other who can come up with the most ridiculous pet names and just laugh your ass off while doing it. anyways it´s not so funny when he starts calling you his "pookie wookie bear" in public. he loves to do it tho because of how embarrassed you get. enjoys. every. second. hes totally unfazed when you do the same tho he genuinely finds it so hilarious. and if you call him an actually sweet petname, he´ll totally become a blushing mess so pls do it often, because he secretly screams internally every time you do.
3. you´re the only one who gets to touch his console. every time you two hang out in his house he lets you lay with him cuddling as you play together. so happy to share something he likes so much with you. he would also do things that he normally wouldn´t just to see your smile. he wants to share your hobbies just like you do with him, so all you have to do is say the word and he would do whatever you want, for example, going out. we all know he hates it but, for you, he would make an effort.
4. sucker for you playing with his hair. he finds it the most calming thing ever. it´s so funny how he randomly comes up to you, and lays his head in you thighs and you immediately know what he wants. literally vibrates from joy the moment your soft fingers start playing with his locks, softly scratching his scalp, and leaving kisses from time to time. also pls do it while you kiss him. his brain malfunctions every time you do it because he can´t take so much at the same time.i mean, your soft lips kissing his with so much love while you casually slide your hand through his hair, interlocking your fingers with it even pulling softly when he kisses you deeper? he melted. his kisses are so playful tho. loves to come up unexpectedly and steal kisses from you to make you flustered.
5. SO AWKWARD every time he comforts you. he tries so hard but even though he tries so hard to come up with something struggles so much to find the right words. it breaks him to see you cry, but sometimes its you who throws themselves in his arms before he clumsily wraps them around you and pats your back. he really wants to say something but he prefers to just hold you until you feel better. doesn´t pressures you to talk if you don´t want to, but is actually a very good listener and would silently stare at you while you rant about whatever is bothering you. also adds threats to whoever made you upset from time to time just to see your smile and chuckle about it.
6. he doesn´t mind about public affection. it´s not because he wants to make you nervous or anything, he literally doesn´t care who´s around. alexy for example doesn´t even care anymore because of how used he is to you two being affectionate. most of the time armin completely forgets where you two are, and just wrap his arms around you resting his head in top of yours, holding hands in front of everyone, unexpectedly kissing you whenever he feels like it. would GLARE if anyone dares to say something about it. i mean, he just loves affection, he hates staying away from you for too long so don´t expect him to be subtle. he also loves showing affection through little things like remembering little things about you.
7. LOVES horror movies. i just know it. normally uses them as an excuse to make you scared and snuggle against him every time something scary appears in the screen, and wrap his arms around you. anyway, he´s actually unfazed about everything he sees. i feel like it´s so hard to scare him. like, you have to pick a very good movie to make him at least flinch. definitely sleeps while watching 😭
8. loves to play silly jokes on you. can´t go a moment without making a joke, literally. loves to prank you every time he gets the chance, mostly scaring you for jumping out of nowhere because he finds the faces you make the funniest thing ever. also i feel like armin would sen you funny pics of him out of nowhere, a lot of memes, and random pictures he finds amusing.
9. SO unserious sometimes. this normally lead to both of you fighting a lot. i mean, you two would normally argue over a lot of stuff. not like actual fights most of the time, but the both of you are so petty that there is always someone who will be right and prove the other person wrong. worse when it's really something important and many times armin doesn't take it seriously, which usually happens because fighting stresses him out, and his way of dealing with it is by making jokes about it to lessen the tension. since this bothers you, you two end up fighting worse. in those cases, armin is initially convinced that he did nothing wrong and has no reason to apologize. it is almost always alexy who must intervene to explain to him that in fact, he is the one who is wrong and convince him (force him) to apologize, which he always does. anyway, over time, as he adapts more to the relationship and things get more serious, he learns to improve in that aspect, although you are almost always quite tolerant too.
✧. - ̗̀ KENTIN . . .
1. do i need to say that kentin is the most sweet boyfriend ever? i feel like hes the whole package. attentive, sweet, good listener, and SO PUPPY CODED. being with you literally makes him the happier person in earth, as cheesy as it sounds. he has no problem in telling you that all the time. he struggles a little but he out of nowhere starts ranting about how much he loves you, which you gladly listen to every time.
2. the most invested in physical contact. I think that kentin was always a loving person, but from the moment he discovered that specifically YOUR TOUCH is what makes him feel like he never had before, he also discovered that he hates being separated from you. he might even seem too clingy at times, since he literally sometimes feels his body ACHE from being separated from you for too long. he always seeks to touch you in some way, touching hands, hugs, kisses, anything that involves closeness.
3. kentin has no problem with affection in public, although generally you are the one who initiates it (in case you feel comfortable with that). however, the moment you show him in some way that it doesn't bother you at all, prepare to have him on top of you almost all the time. he doesn't really abuse it, but he does like to hold your hand and peck you from time to time, although he does blush if someone mentioned something about it. although he doesn't mind too much after getting used to it. his hold is literally the most soothing ever. its just something about the way his hands fit perfectly into yours, the way he gets lost in your eyes every time you two made eye contact, the blushing in his face when you´re the one kissing him first, and all the little gestures.
4. kentin kisses are literally the most breathtaking thing ever. he can never get enough of the taste of your lips in his. its just that he sometimes can believe the person he´s been dreaming about for so long is reciprocating his feeling, it sometimes gets too much for him. glossy eyes, faint touches, and loving caresses are the kind of things you can expect after kissing him (in private, of course). he just feels so vulnerable every time you cradle his face with your hands and get on your tiptoes to kiss him. i think he tries to be gentle, but ends up almost every time kissing you a little roughly, he just can´t help it sometimes. something he often does after kissing you, is pressing his forehead against yours just a moments before catching his breath and kissing you again.
5. he can be really insecure sometimes when it´s about you. he doesn´t find himself special to the point of deserving a partner so amazing like you, so, why would you even be with him while having so much other options? this thoughts get to him pretty regularly at the start of your relationship, because everything is so new to him and you´re just so important in his life that he needs a lot of reassurance during moments like this. he normally tells you about how he feels, but sometimes it gets a little hard for him to express himself. you know very well how to read him tho, he can be very transparent sometimes about his emotions. but after he gets more comfy in the relationship and starts maturing an realizing that you´re with him for a reason, this thoughts get almost inexistent.
6. can´t go a single day without cuddling with you. i think ken is actually very protective of you, which also shows in the way he likes to hold you. his favorite cuddling position his holding you securely against his chest, so he feels like protects you. and he totally does, because every time his strong arms wrap around you, pressing impossibly closer to each other is when you feel like nothing in the world can harm you as long as he´s there. but sometimes i think he wouldn´t mind AT ALL being held by you. there are those days where he feels like he´s just too tired and the only thing he needs is you, s he just lets himself relax in your embrace, calming himself by the sound of your heart beating.
7. loves hanging out with you. you guys see each other almost every single day. in high school, and then you both normally hang out a lot after that, normally going to the park, ken taking you on dates, taking a walk with cookie, making video call until late hours, and basically just coming out with any plan he can think of just to spend more time with you. you guys talk about a lot of stuff while chilling together anywhere you two decided would be a good place. talking about the future, where he always includes you.
8. LOVES making playlist for you and the sending them for you to listen to all the songs that reminds him of you. also, it normally ends with both of you blasting each one in your room while messily singing to the lyrics and laughing. i feel like he also loves to spend his time watching movies, and is totally the kind of person who wouldn´t shut up and would accidentally spoil you lol he always gets scolded by you.
9. kentin always does the impossible to avoid fights with you because he just can´t stand to know that helps the one upsetting you. if you guys fight over minor stuff he would apologize anyway, but he would be totally relieved you aren´t actually mad at him. but please never yell at him, or say something mean because kentin would literally cry. he actually does sometimes when the argument is serious and you just walk away out of anger. even if it hurts him he normally gives you space if you tell him (he would prefer not to because of his clingy ass but like, he gets it) but as soon as things cooled down, he would think of whatever he can do to fix things up (and just like lys, he doesn´t even care about who´s right). honestly, he just wants to make up as soon as possible.
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©allmcl !
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starrystevie · 11 months
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it was all supposed to be a joke. they were supposed to be in steve’s backyard with all their friends and family in shitty lawn chairs, holding cans of budweiser and jamming to whatever song eddie was in the mood for that day blasting through the speakers. steve was supposed to be in front of them all in a tuxedo t-shirt and powder blue dress pants, flowers in his hair that had been teased to high heaven and dark black sunglasses to keep out the bright sun. that’s how they had planned it all those years ago when they’d been high and drunk and young and in love.
but somehow instead, the yard is full of flowers and benches that hopper and wayne put together with spare wood for everyone to sit on and there’s an archway at the end of the aisle and soft acoustic songs spilling gently out of the speakers. steve’s still at the front, that was always supposed to happen, but this time he’s wearing an actual tux, light cream with a boutonnière and everything, and his hair is pushed back just so. there’s no flowers in his hair and no sunglasses but it’s cloudy enough of a day where he doesn’t really need them anyway.
they weren't even supposed to do this. there wasn't supposed to be a grand entrance and a walk down the aisle, no flower girls or ring bearers or anything remotely traditional. but what started off as, "well, i wouldn't mind walking down the aisle," and "i think exchanging rings would be cool," and "who cares if it isn't legal, i'm going to marry you anyway damnit," turned into this beautiful day of friends and family and love.
robin’s standing beside him in a tux of her own, pinstripe grey donning a pocket boutonnière that matches nancy’s bouquet, with a few notecards in her hands. and speaking of nancy, she’s heading down the aisle in a flowing dress, and when her eyes catch robin’s, she crinkles her nose before blowing her a kiss. she stands opposite of steve as eddie's not-quite-bridesmaid and grips her bouquet tightly, her eyes never leaving robin's.
and then there's dustin. he's in a tux that matches steve's and he has his curls pushed back with probably too much gel and a tie that suzie got him for their 3rd anniversary. the best thing he's sporting, though, is the smile on his face and the ring box in his hand and the joy in his eyes as he looks out at the crowd. having him there as best man and smelling the cheap cologne he wears so he seems more grown up calms steve's ever beating heart enough to where he doesn't think he'll throw up from nerves anymore.
all of their loved ones are surrounding them in clothes steve’s never seen before but he couldn’t care at all what they’re wearing because they’re all smiling wide and bright at him. he catches himself rocking back and forth on his feet so he shakes out his hands and holds them behind his back to distract himself. his stomach is rolling with waves or butterflies and when he catches joyce's eye in the front row, she mimes taking in a deep breath which he instantly copies. the soft grin she sends in return tells him that he thinks it could actually work to settle him. mothers have that healing way about them.
he’s never been good with weddings, always fidgeting in a too tight suit his mom picked out, but he never thought he’d be this antsy at his own.
steve's just about to give up and sprint down the aisle to get eddie so they can run away together and leave nerves and or butterflies behind him, but then the music stops. he sees lucas changing out the tapes quickly, giving a thumbs up to mike who throws one to will who runs back behind the shed to where he knows eddie is waiting and when will pops his head back out to run back to his seat, it hits him.
he's getting married.
steve doesn't have time to think about it anymore than he already has been for the last 8 years because eddie's coming around the corner of the shed.
'here comes the sun' is playing out over the speakers, soft and perfect, and eddie's smiling, wide and beautiful, and steve can't help but mirror it back to him. the clouds overhead seem to hear them, hear the song and hear their hearts beating in time with each other, because as soon as eddie gets to the aisle, bright warm rays of sunlight peak out and make the rhinestones he demanded line the lapels of his own black tux shine like real diamonds.
steve stops breathing. he swears he does, and he knows his family are all feeling the same way. he can hear a few gasps, hears joyce muttering what she thinks is a silent, "oh my god," in hop's ear, and watches how wayne stands up just a bit straighter from his front row seat.
eddie glides down the aisle like the drama king he is, soaking in the looks from everyone they care about and soaking in the sun that seems to come out only for him. it's like the sun knows he's a star, too, and wants to come out to be with one of it's own. eddie's always been sunshine and starlight and a blinding thing to look at and take in. he's the light, steve's the moth, and a few clouds on their wedding day could never change it.
"well, that was insanely good timing," eddie whispers to steve once he reaches him. his grin softens and he brings up a hand to wipe gently at the tear tracks on steve's cheeks. "hi, baby."
and steve can do nothing but choke out a laugh, catching eddie's hand in his own so he press a kiss to his palm. he thinks he can feel eddie's heartbeat against his lips and, even if it's his brain playing tricks on him, he likes the sentiment that it brings. "i love you so fucking much."
it's eddie's turn to get teary-eyed and the sun glints off the tears that fall down his cheek before heading back behind the clouds, dotting quick-to-fade sparkles on his face like a wedding present.
steve kisses him. he can't help it. it's nothing but a fast press of lips, watery smile to watery smile, and everyone is cheering except for robin.
"hey! it's not time for that yet," she says with a pretend scowl, arms pressing to each of their chests to keep them apart. it's enough to leave nancy giggling where she stands behind eddie, her laugh like bells bouncing off of the trees surrounding them. "just give me like ten minutes and we'll have you married and you can kiss all you want then."
steve swears he can hear mike groan at that which cause him to grin which cause eddie to grin back and then they're holding hands like it's the only way to get through the next ten minutes. and it might just be the only way to get through it. knowing them, if they didn't hold on tight, one of them would make a move first and there'd be hands around waists and fingers tangled in hair and robin would hate them forever because she wouldn't get to do her speech.
it's after vows are shared, after rings are on fingers, after kisses are pressed to lips and cheeks and temples and hands and everything else they can quickly reach, that the two of them get some peace. everyone is inside eating snacks and drinking cheap champagne, and it goes unspoken that they're going to take some time for themselves. take some time to bask in their new maybe not-so-legally real but as real as could ever be in their hearts marriage.
they make their way, hand in hand like they've always been meant to do, to a table set up for them. eddie pops a bottle of champagne that they pass back and forth between themselves as they share cheesy smiles and champagne-laced kisses. and it's as they look into each other's eyes, fingers lacing so their rings clink softly against each other, that the sun peaks out to say hello once more.
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growup-thatbeautiful · 8 months
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I LOVED your gym crush Dave lizewski fanfic!! If possible could you do a bimbo reader and Dave fic where reader needs help in whatever the case may be and gets horny around Dave and fucks him? Sorry for the sudden request
Of course lovely! 🧡
Warnings: sexual content, cursing, oral (m receiving), mdni
“Thank you so much for doing this,” you tell him when he opens the door. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I think you would manage,” he replies, letting you inside. He looks good now, in his element, away from the jeers and teasing of his classmates and friends. The softness of his sweats and the tightness of his t-shirt makes him look so homey. It’s what you’re used to.
“My grades don’t agree.” It’s no secret to your school that you struggle in most, if not all of your classes. It’s not because you don’t try; you really really do. It’s just never been easy for you to understand what the teachers are talking about.
When you got sat next to Dave in math, you thought he would tease you like the others smart kids do. But he didn’t- he offered to help instead of you didn’t understand, and most of the time you don’t. Hence your arrival at his house, donning a lace tank top and shorts.
Dave’s not like the other guys you know. When he sits you down at his kitchen table, a paint-covered tablecloth on top of it, he offers you tea. Tea. Most guys offer you booze or water.
You try to pay attention, you really do. But you don’t understand what he’s talking about. You didn’t get it the first time, and you haven’t gotten it the second time. You want to let off some steam, and math isn’t helping. You’re frustrated and pent up.
It doesn’t help that you keep getting distracted. You didn’t realize it in class, but Dave’s so pretty. His long lashed and the restless curls on his head just beg for you to ruin him. It should be as sinful as it is when his deft, calloused fingers trace the numbers on the page; you can feel them running patterns over your skin, waiting until you’re begging for him to touch you where you need it most. His lips look so soft, kissable. You want them everywhere.
There’s a tightening in your core that has you digging your heels into the tiled flooring, your thighs pushing down against the wooden chair. God, it’s unfair. He’s trying his best to explain this to you, and you can’t stop thinking about how his hands would feel in between his legs.
“Does that make sense?” he asks, his head tilted to the side. Your mind helpfully supplies puppy dog. Shit. You’re supposed to be paying attention to math.
“Uh,” you say. “Yes?”
“Great,” he smiles, sounding genuinely excited for you to understand. He’s so sweet.
“Dave,” you start, a whine in your tone, “Can we take a break? It’s been forever since we started.”
“It’s been thirty minutes,” he says, a frown appearing between his brows. Instinctively, you reach out and smooth it down with your finger, red nail polish against his skin. Other than the flickering of his eyes, he doesn’t move.
It’s your chance. Slowly, like you’re trying not to scare him, your hand creeps around to cup his cheek. “Is this okay?” you ask him.
“Yes,” he breathes. If that wasn’t enough, he brings his own hand up to slide up your shoulder, holding your neck. “Is this?”
“You fucking kidding?” you say. “Fuck yes, Dave. Please.”
“What’re you asking me for, baby?” he murmurs. “What do you want?” Fucking hell. He can’t know how absolutely profane those words sound coming out of his mouth.
“Your fingers,” you answer immediately. The blush that finds its way to his cheeks is beautiful and so unbelievably hot. You want to see it over and over again.
“Yeah?” he asks, laugh in his voice. “You want me to make you feel good?”
Your enthusiastic nod is all it takes for him to grab your thigh, repositioning you so that you’re on his lap, your legs straddling his. It’s uncomfortable and the kitchen table is digging into the small of your back, but it feels right.
It feels even better when he runs his hands along your waist, his lips scattering marks on your collarbone. You’ll have bruises tomorrow, but you can’t seem to make yourself care. Based on the noises you’re making Dave can tell.
But it’s not enough. It’s so, so good but it’s not what you want. Apparently, you’re transparent because Dave has mercy. His hands, warm from their contact with your skin underneath your shirt, slide underneath the waistband of your shorts, putting pressure onto the bundle of nerves that makes you see goddamn stars. One finger, then two, stretch you open, a delicious burn that has your hips chasing more.
Your head falls forward to catch his lips in a kiss, and when that’s too much you rest it in the crook of his neck and listen to the little encouragements he whispers into you ear.
Doing so good for me, baby.
Just like that, honey.
If you were with anyone else, they wouldn’t be doing this. He’s taking his time, making you feel good. You’re shaking and sharing his breaths and it’s all too much-
And the dam inside you bursts with enough force to stop your breathing. Your eyes screw shut and his name is the only thing you can remember. You don’t know if you’re chanting it out loud, but you don’t care. Dave, Dave, Dave.
“My turn,” you breathe when you finally get your breath back, your knees hitting the floor before he can say another word. His legs are spread wide, opening inviting you. His hands rest uncertainly above your hair, which you quickly fix by bringing them to tangle in your locks.
Slipping his sweats down just enough, you leave kisses on the underside of his cock through his briefs, paying special attention to lick at the growing wet spot.
You know he’s impatient, but too still too sweet to do anything about it, so you push his underwear down enough for his cock to spring out, flushed a pretty, angry red.
Humming, you take his head in your mouth, bobbing your head before taking more of him, the salty taste of him on your tongue.
“Fuck,” he groans above you, his arm across his face. He’s breathing heavy already, his shirt plastered to his chest with sweat.
It doesn’t take long for him to come from your mouth; you know what you’re doing and he doesn’t seem to have any problem letting you know that. With your heel digging into your clothed cunt, you slide a finger along your folds, heat blooming underneath your touch as you listen to his noises. When you moan, your mouth full of him, his head tips back against the chair and his thighs flex.
“Shit, baby, I’m-” is all je manages to get out before he comes, filling your throat and dripping down your chin. His eyes flutter back in his head, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge a second time with him, soaking your hand and the remaining integrity of your underwear.
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately when he gets his voice back, pulling you up on his lap. “I shouldn’t have-”
“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I wouldn’t have let you.”
“Yeah?” he asks, double checking your face for any signs of upset. When he doesn’t find any, an easy, bashful grin finds its way to his face. “Do you want a change of clothes?”
“Sure.” Suddenly, a thought occurs to you, horror flooding your mind. “Your dad isn’t home, right?”
“No,” he laughs. “He’s working. We have the house to ourselves.”
Your mind is slow with the aftermath of two orgasams, and your movements are slow and uncoordinated. You feel fuzzy and good; better than you’ve felt in a long time.
Maybe math tutoring isn’t so bad.
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johnkahner · 5 months
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Bi-Han x wife reader
How would Bi-Han react/deal with their kids telling the reader to “shut up”
Not sure if I ask request this to you already sorry if I have.
AN: This was a fun one write. Not proof read.
Notes: Female! Mother! Reader, Father! Bi-Han, kids misbehaving
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Sometimes having two kids only one year apart wasn’t exactly the best thing ever. You were trying to get your 6 year old daughter and 5 year old son to clean up their mess of toys. Of course you were going to help them, but they just ignored you. You wanted the toys put away, so you could have lunch as a family. Well, Bi-Han was busy with Grandmaster stuff, but he should be home at any moment to join his family for lunch. 
As he enters the home to see toys all over the place. You were trying to put them away, but the two kids were in a mischievous mood. They were tossing the toys you had put away. It looked like total chaos. 
“Please, stop tossing your toys. Your father will be home at any moment.”
You were trying to be calm right now. Agitated at your children’s actions. You didn’t even notice that your husband was already home, but he wanted to see how you would handle this situation. If it got too bad he would intervene. 
“NO!”
“WE DON”T WANNA!”
“Plea-”
The two shut you off from what you were going to say. 
“SHUT UP!” 
They yelled in unison. Those two simple words. Those two words made the room cold, but actually it was Bi-Han. He was pissed that his own children would even dare to speak to their mother, his wife, in that manner.
As the room was beginning to freeze, you looked over to the door to see a fuming Bi-Han. He walks slowly over to you and the children.He glares at the children before speaking. 
“You two, apologize to your mother. Now.”
The harshness in his tone made the children tear up. He speaks once more.
“Also, you two will be grounded for one month.”
The children sobbing apologize to you and begin to pick up their toys. They hated being on their father’s bad side. 
He pulls you into a hug and kisses you on the top of your head. 
“I love you.”
“Love you more.”
During lunch the air was filled with tension because your kids didn’t want to get into any more trouble.
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jvnluvr · 1 year
Text
blue lock boys when they are drunk ♡
when the blue lock boys come home drunk, all they want is you.
ft. sae, rin & kaiser x f!reader
author’s note: im a sucker for my favs okay? fluffiest fluff i’ve ever written i almost cried ten different times send help hsish. also thank you all for 100 followers, i love u all sm mwah. i’m working on requests, they will come soon! otherwise please enjoy <33
itoshi sae:
god, he didn’t even know how he ended up in this position. all sae could remember was losing his game, walking out of that stadium with his usual blank expression, but then his legs took him to the nearest bar. he’s so drunk, heck, he even remembers smoking a cigarette or two while he was chugging down everything. he's overcome with a lot of emotions, but then he remembers.
he wants to go home. he’s up, and he’s walking home. it’s late, its dark, yet he’s still able to somehow manage to get to the front step before he knocks on the door, holding onto it because he’ll fall if he doesn’t. that’s when you open the door and sae falls into your arms. "sae-? what happened?" you ask, trying your best to not let him fall while shutting the door.
you already knew he lost, you were obviously watching the streamed game. but when sae loses, he shuts everyone out for a day at the very least. however, it's weird to find him falling onto you, at your doorstep, and incredibly late at night. he smells like cigarettes, and that's when you understand what is going on.
"sit down, i'll get you water." you guide him to the couch, slowly trying to let go of his arm so you can lie down, but he doesn't let go of you. instead, he pulls you down with him so you're lying down on top of him. "uh, what's this about? you gonna talk to me..?" to say you're confused right now is kind of an understatement. sae hasn't spoken a word to you since he entered, just mindless grumbles and sighs until now, where it's almost like he's searching into your eyes for something.
"y'know, you're a whole lot prettier up close, right?"
what..?
your eyes probably looked bugged right now. you know he's not sober, but when people are drunk, their true feelings come out. sae's never really been an openly affectionate man, you knew that from the moment you met him. so hearing him suddenly throw a compliment into your face has you stunned to say the least.
"c'mon don't look at me like that... this is new to me too.." he mumbles, a red tint starting to appear on his cheeks. he grabs you by your waist to sit you on his lap, and you start to turn red too. "seriously, what's gotten into you sae?" you ask quietly, you both letting out a small chuckle as you stare at each other.
"i don' know.. it's your fault." you tilt your head as his one hand intertwines with yours. "you have beautiful eyes too.. you know that?" you let out a little gasp as your eyes avert away from him. you can feel your ears getting hotter and hotter as each seconds by. now you're actually worried, since when has he thought of these things?
sae put a hand on your cheek to turn you back to him. he has that soft smile plastered onto his face. your gaze softens as he continues talking to you. "you've always had.. that bright light in your eyes... even the first night we met. 't was what got me so interested in you." you bite your lip at that, small water drops forming into your eyes. it wasn't possible for your heart to not melt as those words. "the only thing.. i could think about.. was how much i liked you. how much my heart yearned for you. for how happy i am, to have you in my life now."
he wipes a tear of yours while eliciting that little soft but deep chuckle you always adored. "c'mon, don't cry, was just being honest.." he hugged you, burying his face into your neck and closing his eyes. you were almost certain that after that the alcohol consumed him, that he was too drowsy to even remember all the words he just said. but it's okay. for the chance you got to see itoshi sae confess his love in his own way. you whispered out an "i love you' before falling asleep beside him.
michael kaiser:
"babyy, i'm homee!" yeah, he was definitely slurring over each word he said. you walked out the kitchen, staring as kaiser almost fell atleast 5 times trying to walk over to you. it was hard to try and not laugh at how adorable he was being all tipsy, it was like he was a little child again.
“michael.” you giggled, trying to get him to sit on the chair but you both fell against each other on the floor. “that hurt!” his cheeks are more than just flushed and his eyes are half open. "who are ya, and where's my girlfriend?" to be honest, you were kind of hurt that he couldn't recognize you even while you were right in his face, but kaiser can be a little slow even when sober.
"c'mon michael, 'is me, your girlfriend." you retorted, wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to get him to sit down on a chair. but of course, kaiser being kaiser doesn't want to be apart from you for even a second, so he pulls you onto his lap. "i know, 'was just messin' with ya. i'm not that drunk, y'know?" you could only blankly stare at him as he confessed to that. even the dumbest person alive could tell that lie straight through his teeth.
"you are seriously not gonna tell me you aren't THAT drunk. you slipped over the fuckin' air." you both looked at each other, slightly grinning at that. silence. ah there it is, you both burst out laughing not even a second after, because you know it was true. "honestly though, you REEK of alcohol, go shower or somethin'." you tried getting off his lap, you really did. but does he care? of course not.
"no, 'm gonna stay here, too tired to shower..." you let out a small sigh at that, but if he wasn't going to get into the shower, you weren't going to let him doze off in his uncomfy chair. both of your backs couldn't take that kind of pain right now. "okay okay, we're both tired, let's go to bed, hm?" kaiser quietly grumbled as a counter, not wanting to let you go. at that point, your sounds started to sound more grumpy. you should have dragged him to bed when you had the chance.
"hiii babyy, i love you." kaiser suddenly said, with a smile hanging ear to ear. you didn't know what he was up to, but you just quietly ignored his statement of affection. "you're really cute when you're grumpy," he added, followed by a bunch of little mischievous giggles. "but you're cute all the time, so it makes it absolutelyyy irresistible to stay mad at you." you're so embarrassed by kaiser's sudden overload of compliments that, you start to playfully hit him? one hit to the arm, one hit to the head, and you continue in order to stop being so flustered by the drunk man in front of you.
"ow! i literally said you're cute, why are you hitting me- stop! ow!" even if you were hitting him, kaiser couldn't help but let out more laughs when he realized why you were hitting him. "aww, you're embarrased, aren't ya?" he pressed you for a kiss, but you just put your hand over his mouth to push him back. you couldn't take being more abashed over your extraordinarily drunk boyfriend.
"if you're not gonna accept my love, let me properly confess it, alrightt?" again, you were too afraid to even blurt out a single world in fear of stuttering and having kaiser coo into your ear about how cute you were. so you just looked at him, waiting for him to continue his speech. "got your attention, pretty? i've had a crush on you since the first time i met you, like the biggest crush ever, like the moment i saw you i swear those hearts appeared in my eyes like they do in cartoon shows." he was stuttering as the alcohol was still rushing in his system, but kaiser sounded like a little boy who had been lovestruck with the mere thought of you.
"you're so stupid sometimes.." you mumbled, but nonetheless giddy with happiness and love. "maybe, but i'm stupidly in love with you." all you could do was let out a sheepish smile before pulling him into a hug. "i love you.." and that was followed with snores. you didn't really plan on how to move kaiser out of this awkward position, but what you did know that he was a pretty cute lovestruck man when he was drunk.
itoshi rin:
rin isn't one to typically get drunk, he's not even one to have maybe more than three shots of alcohol at most. but tonight, he went completely overboard. maybe the drinks just tasted good, maybe he had lost his mind. not the matter of how he got drunk, but he was stumbling into your shared apartment when you just barely saw you peeking through your bedroom door through his blurry eyes.
"rin, are you okay..?" you murmured, slowing walking towards him. "mm, 'm fine, were you sleeping?" even if he was on the verge of passing out, rin was one of those guys who was able to maintain his composure. he didn't like how he felt, so he stride towards the kitchen, aching for a glass of water. "was waiting for you, did you drink, rin?" he turned around to see you standing there waiting for him.
"mhm, sorry, don't know what got over me. wait in the room for me, i'll be in there soon." he replied, turning back around to put his glass in the sink, but when he shifted back, he could still see you waiting his in peripheral vision. "what are you waiting for, [name]?" rin asked, still feeling the horrible effects of the alcohol continuing to flow through his blood stream. "i told you, 'm waiting for you." you knew that if you went back, he would fall asleep on the nearby couch, heck even fall and just pass out on the floor, he was drunk out of his mind.
"alright, c'mon let's go." he slowly trailed behind you, the cold air hitting him in the face when he realized he feels way too hot. rin slowly discards his jacket and his shirt, moving to lie down with you. but the one thing he couldn't help but notice is that you didn't make direct eye contact with him, your eyes are averted in every direction except his, why is that? maybe the reason he hated alcohol so much is because of what it does to him. he wants your attention, he craves for your touch, it's weird to him.
so rin extends his arm towards you, he has a hold on your waist before you're too close to him. "what's wrong..?" he examines you, how you're still not looking into his eyes. "look at me, why aren't you looking at me honey?" he's surprised that it does the trick, because your eyes are finally in his direct field of view, and his heart melts. "nothin', just thought you might have wanted to sleep, so didn't wanna' bother you." you answered shyly, realizing now that he wanted nothing more than you. it's silent for a bit, just the both of you in each other's embrace, lying down in the dark.
"mm, you don't bother me, you know that?" he starts, rin doesn't realize that all of sudden he's rambling to you. "i say you shouldn't be nervous but the truth is.. i'm always a bit nervous around you. we've been together for a while but.. i don't know.. i just.. always want to know more about you. it drives me insane sometimes, 'cause i don't usually care about people like that. but for you i just-" he's pulling you closer into your chest, noticing how your grip tightens on him as he continues speaking. "i just want to know every tiny detail about you. i notice the small things about you. the way your smile goes slightly down, you touch the tip of your eyes when your embarrassed, and you always touch the same spot-" he intertwines his hands with yours, rubbing over the spot he's just about to mention. "you always touch the same spot of your hand when you're focused. i pay attention to those things because i care about you, i hope you knew that."
"rin.." you whisper, it's all you could physically verbalize. but all you could feel were the hot tears you were spilling onto his chest. you felt guilty, quickly trying to wipe them away, but he looked down to hush your sobs. "'m sorry, didn't wanna make you cry. i meant it though, even if i don't say it much." it's undeniable that you just want to be even closer to him than humanely possible, you wouldn't dare think of even letting him go for a second after that. "i think you should get drunk more often," which dragged a small string of chuckles from you two. "being drunk sucks, but we can compromise and i'll try and tell you how much i love and want to be with you more, yea?" rin shared, fumbling over his words. yep, still definitely drunk.
"mhm, go to sleep now, 'kay?" you acknowledged, content with how tonight turned out to be. "you go to sleep too, i love you." and rin let himself pass out in the comfort of your presence. not only until a few moments later could you say 'i love you' back, but he was secretly waiting to fall asleep until he heard confirmation of your feelings.
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anemptypuddingcup · 5 months
Text
Blood is blood. No matter where it’s from.
Vampire Luffy & Law x Female Reader.
Comfort smut short.
‼️Blood warning. Reader’s on her cycle and needs pain relief.
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Contains: Y’all this is a little icky yet still comforting. Vampire!Luffy & Law. Reader on her cycle. I think y’all know where this is goin. Heavy pussy eating. Law & Luffy fighting over pussy. Damn babies. Yo I’m not kidding when I say it’s icky, my brain on some crack or some shit- I recommend we don’t talk abt what Law does in the middle of the fic-😭 (Ima put a marker by the part to alert you.)
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Raindrops hit the glass of the window as you lie there in the soft yet large and warm bed. You forgot how long it’s been since you’ve gotten out of bed, though you were a little bothered by the cold temperature within your room.
You tried to relax yourself in your bed but a painful little groan leaving your lips as you lie there in pain. Your cramps just refused to cease and you could barely move, the pain kept you frozen in your soft and comfy bed.
“Luffy…Traffy!”
You yell out for their names weakly and immediately hear their footsteps heading towards your door. Luffy pushes the door open and rushes in, his breaths a bit heavy as he stared at you in your bed. “Dumplin’! Sum happened!?” Luffy yells, his body in full alert mode. Law slowly enters beside Luffy, a sigh leaving him as he disregards Luffy’s ignorance.
“M-My tummy…” You whimper, holding your lower tummy as you let out a sharp whine. “Ah? Tummy ache?” Luffy asked, tiling his head. Law clears his throat before walking over to Luffy’s side. “She may be…experiencing some issues Mugiwara-Ya.” Law says, looking down at Luffy. “Like what? Ion know what else ta think other than a tummy ache.”
Law presses a palm to his face and sighs out before looking to you. “Her menstruation cycles on. Something all women go through.” Law tells Luffy, point a finger to him before poking his cheek.
“Her wha now? Mentos?”
“Her period. Is on. Mugiwara-Ya.” Law says firmly to Luffy, though Luffy still didn’t understand what Law was explaining. “Never mind. Though she seems to be in pain from her cramps.” Law points out, standing up straight and away from Luffy.
“Well, what can we do ta help? Don’ we have meds or sum Torao?” Luffy asked, turning over to Law. Law presses his fingers to his chin and sighs out in thought. “We do have painkillers, but I have a different solution. I’d rather try it first than give her painkillers.” Law says, his golden eyes peeking at your worried ones. You slowly sit up, a groan leaving your lips as you propped yourself up against your fluffy pillow.
Law trails over to you, his heels clacking against the stone floor before he stood there above your weakened little frame. “Follow my lead, Mugiwara-Ya.” Law says quietly, climbing onto the soft bedding. Luffy tilts his head and quirks a brow to Law, watching as he rested on your bed. Luffy follows Law’s lead, laying himself onto your bed as well and blinking blankly to you. The bed sinks beneath their weight as they laid flat on their tummies. Law reaches his hand to you and slowly peels back your blankets. You tug them back, pulling them up to your face.
“I-It’s cold…Traffy.” You whisper to him softly, not wanting to pull the blankets off. Law sighs and yanks the blankets back before lying his head against your thigh. His cold tatted hand presses up against your lower abdomen, a heavy hiss leaving your lips as you jolted harshly from the drop in temperature against your skin. Law rubs your lower tummy, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your panties while he massages your lower tummy with his palm. He was trying his best to help you relax before he went any further.
“Torao, don’ tell me we’re jus’ gonna comfort ‘er. Ion have an issue w’that though~” Luffy snickered, resting his head against your thigh while he looks up into your pretty eyes. You sigh out and rest against your pillows, mewling in pain yet slight satisfaction as Law massaged your tummy. “Is this helping?” He asked, quirking a smile to you. You shake your head and whimper out, yearning to turn over onto your side and curl up from the pain.
You try to turn over but Luffy groans out while Law presses a hand to your other thigh. “Ah ah, don’t turn over. I know it hurts but just wait a moment okay?” Law says to you, holding on to your thigh and squeezing it. You whine out in irritation and struggle against them both, not wanting to be bothered much more. Luffy looks at Law and blinks. “Torao, maybe we should get ‘er some meds now.” Luffy says, a bit worried by your pained whining.
“We are about the give her some treatment if she’d sit still.” Law groans out, his brow furrowing in slight irritation. Luffy groans softly as he sits up from your thigh, a soft groan leaving him as he got up onto his knees. Luffy cups your face and stares into your eyes, your whining still there though transparent and more quiet. “Cmon dumplin’, jus’ relax kay? Torao’s gonna help ya feel better~” Luffy says, giving you a soft little smile.
You huff out and look down at Law while Luffy does the same. “You’re helping me too idiot, get down here.” Law sighs out, pressing his palm to his face. Luffy snickers and gets back down with Law, looking up at you. His eyes stares at you cute tummy poking out from you sitting bent. Law traces his fingers along the hem of your panties before slowly sliding them off, a sticky trail of blood disconnecting from your cunt while you shiver in discomfort. Law and Luffy shudder at the scent of your blood and move in closer, huffing out in slight ecstasy from the scent.
‼️ Law slides his thin tongue along the pad of your panties, humming out in ecstasy as he tastes your sweet and rich blood against his tastebuds. He hums out and shudders from your delectable taste, trailing his tongue along his lips. The sticky mixture coats his tongue and throat and he exhaled shakily from the texture and consistency. “It’s even richer down here, and the consistency is just so fucking wonderful~” Law mewls, slurping up the rest of your remaining blood off of the pad before setting your panties aside.
You stare down at him with slight disgust but shrug it off, your mind too stuck on the pain to worry about Law’s little action. “Oi Toraoooo, I wanna tasteeee.” Luffy groans out childishly, his long fingernails scratching gentle along your soft skin. Law and Luffy looks back up at you before smiling all slyly at you.
You blink before looking away from them.
“May we? It may help with your cramps.” Law asked, looking up at you as he begins to press soft yet sticky and bloody smooches against your thigh. You groan out upsettingly and nodded, not caring what they’d do as long as the cramps had ceased and disappeared for the time being. “Y-Yes, anything please…I don’t want to keep hurting…” You whined out, pressing your hand against your head. Luffy and Law look at each other and grab your hips with Luffy moving in first.
“Want the first taste, Mugiwara-Ya?” Law asked, giving him a little smirk. Luffy shakes his head quickly, eager to get a taste at your blood. Law gestures him to your bare and sticky pussy and Luffy moves in closer to you.
He presses a soft smooch to your clit before sliding his long tongue along your sticky and bloody slit, moaning out softly from your taste. Luffy practically buries his face between his your legs, slithering his tongue past your entrance and slurping up your blood through your pussy. You mewl out softly as you felt Luffy’s tongue wriggle inside of your cunt, his tongue practically prodding at your g-spot and making you gasp out and arch your back.
“Mmgh~ L-Luffy~” You gasp out, pressing your hand softly to his head while he slurps at your pussy. Law moves in closer and tends to your clit, his mouth latched against your labia before he begins curling his tongue around your clit. You gasp out at the attention you pussy was receiving, your toes twitching and curling from the pleasure of both of their tongues tending to you.
“Oh f-fuck~ T-That feels so much better~ P-Please keep going~” You moan out softly, pressing both of your hands to their heads. They look up at you with their slit eyes and smile before focusing back to your pussy. Law gasps out and pulls back from your clit, looking to Luffy who was still moaning and slurping up the blood deep inside of your entrance.
“Oi Mugiwara-Ya, don’t hog it all to yourself.” Law huffs, gripping Luffy’s hair and pulling his head back and away from your pussy. You gasp out suddenly as Luffy’s tongue slid out of your pussy easily, a groan leaving past his lips as his brows furrowing with irritation. “I wan’ s’more Torao!” Luffy frowned, glaring at Law. Law grits his teeth, his fangs showing as he moves Luffy out of the way before moving his own face close to your entrance.
Luffy pushes Law, squishing his face against his as he moves back in closer to your entrance. You watched as they bickered and let out a worrisome whimper, pressing your hands to their heads again. Both of the bickering men slide their tongues past your entrance making you gasp suddenly before letting out a loud little moan. You arch your back as you feel both of their tongues wriggling and run along your sweet spot, biting your bottom lip form the pleasure.
Law presses his thumb up against your clit and rubs little circles against it, making you release your voice from the sweet attention. “O-Oh~ S-So good!~ Too much!~” You whine out, your brows furling from the pleasure while biting your bottom lip tightly. Luffy and Law mewl out, their hands clawing at your hips and coating your skin in scratches. You whine out and squirm a bit beneath their lips, your tummy growing hotter as you felt your orgasm building up deep inside.
“F-Fuck! I-I’m gonna cum!~” You moan out loudly, your hands now gripping their strands a bit tight while you huff out heavily. Luffy moves away from your entrance once again, moving Law’s thumb to tend to your clit with his tongue. He suckling and smooches at your clit, groaning out sweetly as he tries his best to pull your orgasm with his tongue and lips. “Cmon dumplin’, don’ hold it back from us~” Luffy whines, suckling on your clit a bit harder and sliding his tongue against it.
Law continues to lap his tongue against your g-spot, his hand pulling your hip closer into both Luffy’s lips and his. “I-I’m gonna!- M’Gonna!” You gasp out loudly and shudder against them, creaming around Law’s tongue while Luffy slides his tongue along your entrance to get a little taste of your entrance. Law pulls his face away and chuckles both his chin and Luffy’s sticky and covered in your blood and essence. “S’good aren’t you? Did that help your cramps precious?” Law asks tilting his head.
You nodded and lie back, a yawn leaving your lips as you grew…rather tired yet extremely relieved and satisfied. Law pulls back and pulls on Luffy’s collar, pulling him away from you. Luffy looks down and picks up your panties before sliding them back onto you, the pad cold and making you shudder as it met with your warm slit. “Rest well and please, don’t hesitate to ask for our help again, ________-Ya~” Law says, smiling as he got off of your bed.
You hum out before relaxing against your pillows, another yawn leaving you before you slowly shut your eyes. Luffy lord there beside you, wanting to relax and rest with you while you slept. “Are you staying in here with her, Mugiwara-Ya?” Law asked, turning back to Luffy. “Mhm…Wanna make sure m’dumpling’s okay…Wanna stay here w’her…” Luffy says sleepily, kicking off his sandals and laying his entire body onto your bed. Law sighs and nods before stopping at the doorway.
“Make sure you clean yourself up please.” Law says before walking out of bedroom, closing the door behind him. Luffy moves in closer to you but makes sure not to move his chin and mouth anywhere near you.
He relaxes with you, his back up against the headboard with his arm pulling you closer into his embrace.
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jasonsmirrorball · 6 months
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OCTOBER 28: IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU BABY (NO ONE ELSE IN THIS WORLD CAN) JASON TODD (3.3K)
kinktober prompt: overstimulation | kinktober masterlist
synopsis. jason doesn't seem to understand just how attractive he is, so it falls to you to make sure he knows who he belongs to.
cw: f!reader, edging, overstimulation, oral sex (m! receiving), piv sex, public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!reader, minor begging, switchy jason, possessive reader minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact you will be blocked
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You leave Jason’s side for one brief moment–the host of the party comes up to where you’re standing in the kitchen, asking for a favour as more and more people start arriving and you excuse yourself from his arms with a playful wink. 
“We need to go on a drinks run,” she lets you know, running a hand through her hair, and you giggle when it moves away from her shoulder, exposing the spot on her neck to you. She grins, her gaze cutting across the room to find the perpetrator, a tall, brown skinned boy who, judging by the way he’s looking at her, is eagerly waiting for her to return to him. “Can you move your car for a sec? Sorry, I didn’t think I’d need to use the car tonight.”
Your eyes widen, shaking your head. “Oh! Yeah, no, of course.”
It’s easy enough to pull out of the driveway, Jason’s keys still in your purse from where he’d slipped them earlier but finding a spot on the crowded suburban street is difficult, and by the time you return to the house, you’re impatient to get back to Jason’s side.
It had taken a monumental effort on your part to even get him here, tonight, after the week the both of you had had, and you weren’t sure he’d be pleased at being left alone for too long. He’d only started to loosen up a little when you’d been called away, eyes slipping into a half lidded gaze that warmed you right down to your toes, hands possessively skimming the too tiny skirt you’d zipped yourself into. 
A low bass reverberates through the walls when you enter, thumping loud enough that you feel it as you make your way across the floor, crawling up from the ground and settling in your veins. All around you, bodies are bathed in a soft blue and purple glow, glitter refracting off exposed collars and arms. Your own wrists twinkle with the residue as you bump into girls who giggle out drunken apologies, and you can’t help but smile. 
Still, you weave your way through the packed first floor to the back of the house, where the crowd thins and tapers off. Only a few people mill about in the kitchen, and surprisingly, your boyfriend isn’t one of them. 
You stop short in the entrance to the kitchen, sweeping across the space to make sure you haven’t missed him, but sure enough, not a single one bears any resemblance to your six foot something man. 
“I think he went to the bathroom!” one of the guys nearby says, who’d been talking to Jason when you’d last seen him, and you shoot him a grateful smile before spinning on your heel. 
You go no further than the foyer, about to climb the staircase, when your gaze pulls back into the living room and–
There he is. Standing at the far edge of the room, pouring himself a drink, bathed in bright violet and indigo, is Jason. You admire the lines of his face, lips shiny from the drink in his hands and catching the light. 
As though tugged forward by some invisible thread, your feet propel forward of their own conviction, and you’re pushing through the throng again, swallowed by the sea of bodies but your gaze remains on the man ahead.
Even beneath the jacket he dons, the white t-shirt is tight around his chest and you stare shamelessly, flames sparking low in the pit of your stomach when you catch a glimpse of the chain around his neck, silver glittering low in the light as he shifts, tucked into the collar where its pendant remains unseen. 
You reach the edges of the crowd and your steps slow as you approach him, blood icing over when you take in the girl he’s talking to. Reaching out, you murmur his name.
It mollifies you that he hears you immediately, head snapping your way and eyes lighting in quiet pleasure. 
“Sweetheart.” He curls an arm around your waist unthinkingly and you settle into his side, offering the girl–still unnamed–a quick smile. “What took you so long?”
“Sorry,” you reply, peering into the cup in his hand. “Had to move the car, and it took forever to find somewhere to park. What’s in this?”
“Just juice–that was mine,” he chides, when you finish the rest of it off. “Nice, baby. Really nice.”
“You’re not drinking tonight?”
It takes you a moment to realise the question is addressed to you, Jason’s companion looking at you expectantly and you startle, jumping to answer. 
“Sorry, yeah, I’ve got something tomorrow, so…” you hold the cup up by way of explanation, and she nods, face breaking out into an understanding grin.
She’s pretty, with sleek dark hair and eyes that are curtained by a set of thick, full lashes. You feel a little silly, when she smiles at you so nicely, for acting so childishly. She doesn’t seem to have noticed your little pout, though, or if she has she doesn’t let on, tucking a lock of hair behind her hair and introducing herself.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” she says, and you shake your head in agreement, giving her your name. Her eyes cut back and forth between you and Jason, and then she’s stepping back a little, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ve gotta get going, but I’ll probably see you guys around.”
“See you,” you echo and behind you Jason mutters the same sentiment, his chin brushing the top of your head. 
You wait until she’s out of sight before turning in his arms, hand coming up to slip under the neck of his top. Immediately he begins to squirm, sputtering protests laced with incredulous laughter. “Sweetheart–what are you–”
Your fingers hook under the chain of his necklace, and tug it out until it lays over his shirt, pendant settling against the white material, the blunt silver of your initial hanging over his heart. Only then do you let go. 
When you go to turn back around, he catches your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours for a moment before his mouth breaks out into the most cocky grin you’ve ever seen, dripping with barely contained arrogance. You know then that you’ve been caught out but you simply raise a brow, keeping your face impassive as best as you can.
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he lilts playfully, voice dropping as he bends his head closer, “is something wrong?”
“Everything’s fine, Jason,” you say coolly and if possible, his smirk only widens. 
“You sure, baby?” he prods innocently, tilting his head, puppy-like and mockingly naive. Red skims across his jaw, a slash of light that highlights just how sharp his features are, pretty and inviting. 
“I’m sure.” Flatly voiced, it’s a poor assurance and you both know it. You stare up at him for a moment before announcing, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
His brow quirks at the turn of subject but he bobs his head, setting down his empty cup on the sideboard. “Okay, let’s go.”
You turn on your heel and make your way to the stairs. Jason’s hands remain at your waist, close behind as he follows you through the crowd and up the steps. Most of the party is downstairs, and it grows quieter–only marginally–as you climb to the second floor. The music is muddied through the floorboards, pulsing beneath your shoes with every step.
You leave the door open behind you and moved further into the space. When it clicks shut, you know that Jason has followed you in. Good, you think, and lean over the sink to peer into the mirror. 
For a few beats, there is only silence, words unspoken over the muffled pounding of the music below. You fiddle with your outfit, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt and wiping the corner of your mouth where the lipstick you’d applied has begun to smudge. In the corner of your eye, Jason leans against the door and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. 
You turn to face him, resting against the sink. He straightens under your gaze.
“Do you get off,” you say steadily, voice low, “on provoking me?”
“Provoking you?”
You push off the sink, taking slow steps towards him. Your shoes click against the floor, and downstairs the music shifts to something more upbeat. You watch Jason’s eyes lazily drag down your figure, his throat jumping when you close the small distance between the both of you.
You reach up, hooking your index finger under the chain around his neck. The letter rests against the pad of your finger, the accompanying birthstone twinkling with the movement. 
“It’s funny,” you muse, your tone anything but amused. “You wear this, but it really feels like you don’t know who you belong to. Guess I’m gonna have to show you. Is that what you want?”
When he doesn’t speak, you tug on the chain and he jerks forward, lashes fluttering and pupils expanding as he stares down at you. In one breath, his teal irises are swallowed by onyx pools, lips parting in want.
“Yeah,” he rasps out. “Yeah, that’s what I want.”
You shake your head before pulling him down and slotting your mouth to his. He tastes sweet, the juice lingering on his tongue. Hands wrap around your waist and you press closer, feeling the heat of his chest against yours. The leather of his jacket squeaks with the strain of his arms and you can’t help but smile into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of his mouth. 
“Lock the door,” you murmur into his mouth, willing your voice to remain steady but it comes out a little breathless. He huffs out a laugh but reaches behind him nonetheless, twisting the lock with a click that echoes slightly in the tiled bathroom. 
You twist away slightly, redirecting your attention to his jaw and grazing your teeth along the skin there. He shivers, head dropping against the wooden door and providing you better access. Control steadily unravelling, you surge forward to mouth at his neck. He squirms, pitiful little exhales bordering on whines as you lave at the skin, pulling it with your teeth and soothing it over with your tongue. 
“Ah–sweetheart, I–” he stumbles over his words, hands gripping the fabric of your skirt tightly. It bunches up in his fists, and you feel the glide of it as it rides up your thighs. 
Pulling back to survey your work, you grin up at him with spit slicked lips before swatting his hands away and sinking to your knees. Nosing at his thigh, you fumble with the clasp of his belt and undo his jeans hastily, tugging his pants and boxers down in one pull. One of your hands come up to push the hem of his white shirt upwards in silent direction, and obediently he bites the fabric. Unobstructed, his cock presses against his stomach and your smile feels filthy as you shuffle forward.
The tiles beneath your knees are cold and unforgiving, but you ignore them as you take him into your mouth. Above you, there’s a muffle whimper as you suckle on the head, drool gathering on your tongue as you close your lips around him messily. The pearl of spend settles on your tongue, salty and slightly bitter, and you relax your jaw to take more of him in. The muscles in his stomach contract and you hum, directing your eyes upward.
Jason stares down at you through lowered eyelids, lashes casting swooping shadows on his cheeks, breathing ragged. A flush settles over his face, a pink tint painted over his nose and cheeks that ruins any semblance of composure–he groans, eyes squeezing shut and straining open to gaze at you. His hand comes to settle on your cheek, cradling your head with trembling fingers. 
Your own hands part ways, one reaching to his mouth and the other sneaking beneath your parted thighs. Jason spits into your palm, shirt falling back down and you close your fingers around the rest of his cock, squeezing the length your mouth doesn’t take in. He takes the dampened fabric into his free hand, balling the hem against his chest.
“Shit, jus’ like that,” he gasps, fingers against your cheek pressing into the flesh and you hum, bobbing your head.
Between your legs, your underwear has grown slick, thin and flimsy and not meant for much more than pleasing the eye. You tug them to the side, immediately greeted by wet strings that coat your fingers. Your legs ache as you shift, pressing circles into your most sensitive parts as you sloppily mouth at Jason’s cock.
You can barely hear the party over the sound of your heartbeat, thundering in your ears, but a garbled noise reaches you. Jason chokes on a breath, head tipping back and stomach tightening visibly as he approaches his peak. With an amused hum, you pull your mouth off him, hand splaying across his thigh as his orgasm is cut off abruptly. 
He looks down at you, brows pinching confusedly. 
“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” you coo. You shake your head, tutting. “What kind of a lesson would that be, baby.”
Your fingers continue to move beneath your skirt and a noise gets caught in your throat. Jazon zeroes in on it, eyes cutting to your legs and groaning.
“Not fair,” he grumbles and you lean against his thigh, cheek pressing against the soft flesh.
“Mm…no I think this is pretty fair,” you murmur, kissing the skin. “I wasn’t the one chatting up some other girl.”
“Wasn’t chatting her up,” he denies, and you shift up again, reaching for his cock. Mouth softly at the head, you swipe your thumb across the slit and watch him shudder.
“No?” you question. He shakes his head.
“Was just talkin’.”
“So I should let you come, huh?” you mumble, taking him into your mouth once more and his hips stutter forward when you suck a little harder. 
“Fuck,” he grouses, breath hitching. “Sweetheart–please.”
You smile as best as you can with the weight of him pressing on your tongue, but don’t answer. Your legs have begun to tremble with the strain of supporting your body, knees aching terribly against the tile, but you take pleasure in watching Jason turn desperate. 
For a little while longer, you continue your ministrations to the sound of Jason’s breathless whispers above you–
“Just like that–fuck, you’re so good–”
One, drawn out, “Ugh, sweetheart.”
You rock your hips against your fingers, your own whimpers muffled and vibrating against his cock. His breaths steadily grow shallower, movements jerky under your mouth and hands until he’s loudly gasping, teetering on the edge of release. Immediately, your lips pop off him, hand falling to your side and he kicks his head back into the door, face crumpling.
You raise on shaky knees, taking the hand he offers you to lean against him for a moment before you pull him with you to the counter, slipping onto the marble. Jason steps between your legs, pushing you against the mirror and you feel a few items clatter to the floor, the sound of hard plastic against tile echoing. You’re uncaring, slipping your fingers into his mouth and using the other hand to guide his along your hips. 
Wordlessly, Jason tugs the hem of your skirt up, tongue soft and wet around your fingers. When you pull them from his mouth, he gives you a dippy grin, swooping down to kiss you messily.
“You think you deserve to cum?” you murmur into his mouth, and he hisses.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he presses, pleading. “Need it so bad.”
You reach between the both of you, circling your hand around his cock once more before guiding him to your entrance, head catching against your clit for a moment and sending a shudder through the both of you before it slips in. Jason sighs, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, angling your mouth to his ear.
“Prove it to me,” you say lowly, “that you deserve it.”
Like a switch has been flipped, he thrusts forward, setting a dizzying pace that makes it difficult for you to stay quiet. Sweat crowds at your temples as he stretches you out and fucks you, hips slapping against yours. 
Downstairs, the party rages on and you’re grateful for the noise when it becomes too hard to hide the whimpers Jason pulls from you, teeth digging into your bottom lip in a weak effort to muffle the cries that slip loose when he angles his hips just so, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Your toes curl in your shoes, legs hitched up around his waist. 
“‘S not enough is it,” you find yourself gasping, fingers digging into his back through his shirt. “Gotta–fuck–gotta mark you up so everybody knows you’re–oh–taken!” 
“So. Fuckin’. Jealous.” Jason times his thrusts with each word, sending you arching off the counter. 
“You knew that when you d-decided to date me,” you grit, a few tears slipping from your eyes when you close them. “Knew that when you put that necklace on.”
He grins, a wild thing in the flickering bathroom light, almost feral as he drags his teeth down the side of your neck. “Mm…got me there,” he mumbles into your skin.
You catch his hair in your hand, pulling him away to look at you. 
“Tell me who you belong to,” you say raggedly, “and I’ll let you come.”
His hips stutter and he slots his mouth against yours, the words coming in a rush. “Yours, baby, ‘m all yours,” he gasps. The slick sounds of your sex are loud in the bathroom, Jason’s fingers reaching between the both of you to circle your clit in time with his thrusts. 
You kiss him back, feeling your own thread rapidly unravel with every slap of his hips, growing sloppier as he becomes more desperate. Spit smears across your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth greedily. 
“Come for me, then.”
Jason manages to hold off until you break, sloppily fucking into you until you come with a broken moan, fingernails digging into his shoulder and likely ruining his shirt. He pulls out just as he finishes, coming all over your bare thighs, a wounded sound broken off in his throat. 
You stare dazedly at the streams of white as you come down from your high, cum slipping down your legs slowly while you regain your breath. When you look up, Jason looks just as disheveled, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled from both your hands and his. The bruises on his neck have begun to bloom already, dark marks of purple that litter his skin. 
“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs when he catches you eyeing them, reaching for some toilet paper. You sit on the counter and let him wipe you down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Getting jealous over some random girl.”
“If I can’t have you…” you trail off in a hum and he rolls his eyes, swooping down to kiss you. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m yours, you freak,” he reminds you, and then catching sight of his reflection in the mirror behind you, he grimaces. He begins to complain, “Fuck, sweetheart, how the fuck ‘m I supposed to get out of here looking like this…look like I got mauled.”
You can only offer an innocent smile when he tugs a hand through his hair.
“You know I’m totally gonna get you back for this, right?”
Tugging down your skirt and fixing your top, you head for the door to unlock it. You look over your shoulder, halfway across the threshold.
“Kind of counting on it, handsome.”
The last thing you see before you slip outside is his slackened jaw.
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this is so unedited because i was in a rush and i refuse to go through grammarly or any ai to check it. i'm sorry if there are any spelling errors etc i will hopefully come back to fix them but for now!! here is the 4th and second to last installment of kinktober!!!!
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uhohnotthisagain · 2 months
Text
Requited Love
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Summary: Sam discovers his love for you in a not so clean dream, he doesn't realise his actions following the realisation would effect you so much.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader
Word count: 0.8k
Warnings: slight mentions of sex, angst, pining, makeout.
My Masterlists
Sam woke up in a sweat, but this time it wasn’t a nightmare. He could still feel the way your hands felt on his skin. The way your lips felt pressed against his. The way you felt wrapped around his cock. 
Holy shit was he actually thinking about his best friend that way. He rubbed his hands over his face before he felt movement next to him. He looked over at you sleeping, sprawled out with hair all over the place. You usually slept together in the same bed when out on a hunt. 
He tried his best to climb out of bed quietly so as not to disturb you, hoping a cold shower would rid him of those insane thoughts. 
Later, you’re all sitting at a diner, eating dinner. As you take a bite of your burger, Sam can’t help but notice the way your lips move as you chew, oddly attracted to the way they slightly pout when you chew. He shakes his head, trying to focus on anything but you. 
You and Dean are in deep conversation about which Led Zeppelin song is the best, sitting on the couch in the motel room whilst Sam does some research on the hunt. It was a pretty easy hunt so not a lot of effort was needed. Sam gave himself the excuse to get distracted. 
He watched the way your hair would swing when you talked to Dean, dramatically moving your hands as you spoke to emphasise your point. His eyes travel down your body, taking note of the way his old college t-shirt looked on your body, paired with the tight-fitting leggings that donned your lower half. 
He caught himself just before he started to imagine what you would look like without the clothes on. 
It was just you and Sam in the motel room. Dean had gone to the local bar for a few drinks, both you and Sam opting to stay in for the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little down. You noticed a few days ago that Sam hadn’t been talking much. You didn’t take much notice until you realised he was still talking to Dean, but seemed to be avoiding you. You didn’t know what you had done, but you were starting to feel self-conscious about your actions, trying to think of what you could have done to upset him. 
Sam was still sitting at the table, hunched over his laptop. You were watching some random movie that was on TV, not watching it properly. Your mind was too occupied trying to think of ways to get Sam to forgive you.  
“Sam?” You called to him. He hummed in response. 
“Did I do something?” He turned to look at you. “What?”
“Did I do something to hurt you?” He stared at you like you had two heads. “Of course not. Why would you think that?” 
“Because in the last week, you’ve barely spoken ten words to me. If I’ve done something wrong please tell me. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me. You’re my best friend. I can’t not talk to you. I’m going crazy here.” You let out a frustrated breath after your short ramble. “I’m sorry for whatever it is I did. I’m sure it was unintentional and I won’t do it again.” Sam is looking down at his fidgeting hands, debating what to do next. “Listen, Y/N. You didn’t do anythi-” “Obviously I have! You haven’t spoken to me in a week. I’ve been putting up with Dean this entire time because you won’t talk to me. I don’t think I can handle this much longer.” Sam didn’t realise how much this was effecting you. He finally did when he noticed the tears streaming down your face. 
“Tell me what I can do to fix it.” You whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, it would come out in ugly sobs. 
Sam let himself debate his actions for one last second before making a decision. He took two long steps towards you before cupping your face in his hands, smashing his lips to yours. 
It took a second for you to respond, and Sam was about to pull away before you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You stayed like that until you had to pull away for air. “What was that?” You whispered. 
“I realised a week ago that I was in love with you. And I didn’t know what to do. I guess keeping my distance was the wrong way to go.” Sam whispered back. “Yeah, it was.” You respond, pulling him back down for another kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, tapping your hip to signal for you to jump. He instantly catches you, and carries you towards the couch, sitting down with you straddling him. 
“Ew, what the fuck guys. A heads up would’ve been nice.” You hear from behind you. You turn to see Dean standing at the door, hand over his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sleeping in the Impala tonight.” He turns around and walks out without another word. 
“Should we go get him?” You ask Sam, not moving to get off of his lap. “Maybe in a few hours,” He responds, pulling you back in for another kiss. 
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