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#they're so perfect for each other and it makes me sick
lumagen · 8 months
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it is 5am
my brain is in the fog
and the only thing keeping me tethered is remembering that caitvi is the first ship I ever cared about
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madrac · 6 months
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Twelveclara you have to stop. You dynamic too toxic. Your guitar riffs too cool. your timing is too bad. they'll kill you
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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months
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Mom and Dad are fighting on Christmas 🎄⛄🖤
Miguel O'Hara x wife reader
TW: MINORS DNI, angst, relationship and marriage troubles, fighting, insecurity, jealousy, postpartum, talk of divorce, mild smut at the end (p in v, idk to me it's mild, I've seen worse) word count 3.3k
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Credit to the gif owner keezinemugstudent! 🙏🏽
Synopsis: your marriage to Miguel is on the brink of collapse. He wakes up and tries to fix it on Christmas. Jerry Maguire inspired. 😁
Valentine's Day spinoff sequel
Mother's Day ending blurb
I tried to write something angsty. Hope everyone had/is having a good holiday season! ⛄
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Miguel's in the doghouse and he knows it. You requested a separation after you reached your limit. The kids were sick in the weeks following Thanksgiving and before Christmas and he spent the whole time working late and coming home at suspicious hours in the morning, leaving you drowning. You and the kids were piled in yours and Miguel's bed when you'd hear him come home, the front door closing and his familiar footfalls dredging down the hall, pausing only at the fridge before passing out on the couch. Oh you hated him right now. The resentment had creeped in and poisoned the marriage inside and out when he became exceedingly obsessed with work.
Protecting the stability of the multiverse was a huge undertaking, but, like all things in his life, Miguel took it to the next level. But when it came to his personal life, he was grievously lacking. The passion where you two would do it twice a day and couldn't keep your hands out of each other's pants? Ancient history. The small pecks you'd trade in the mornings were a thing of the past. Gone were the days you two would text all day and go out for dates. You didn't so much as get an "on my way home" text, instead letting the sound of his car pulling in the driveway be your confirmation of his return. You two were more roomates at this point than husband and wife.
Traditionally, on Christmas Eve after the kids went to bed, you two would take that time for each other, eating the cookies for Santa that were conveniently your favorite kind, placing the presents you two carefully shopped for and wrapped (well, mostly you wrapped), under the tree. A hysterical giggle would escape your lips at the milk mustache on Miguel's face. Then you'd two get busy on the floor in front of the fireplace, fighting back laughter as you tried to keep your moans down, every year struggling a little bit more than before because your knees weren't what they used to be before taking it to your bedroom for one more round before the chaos of Christmas morning began.
He was perfect in the beginning. The romance between you two used to be at an all time high. He was a nerd in the same friend circle when you knew him in high school, wickedly smart, the guy who won the Robotics and Math Olympiad comps and got visits from Ivy League college STEM departments, eager to scoop up his talent. Sure, he was cute, but when he went to college is when you heard he had a major glow up and became kind of cocky. You heard about how he became Spider-Man and was pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread in the eyes of the people, saving lives and fighting villains and all. You knew how the opposite gender seemed to malfunction and forget how to act around him, so you stifled away your tiny crush you had on him for years in the smallest crevice in your brain in a forgotten folder, never thinking it'd see the light of day.
When you saw him at your high school reunion, you decided to be brave and remark on how they're playing Nickelback, which he shrugged and said he actually enjoyed them, to which you sheepishly admitted that you really enjoyed them deep down too, you just couldn't resist making yourself the person to talk shit, since there's always gotta be one hater when Nickelback comes on. A canon event, if you will. This earned a tiny side smile from him, a chink in his stoic armor. After 8 beers, some flirty jests, and a little backseat rendezvous in his car, that became the last night that you two spent apart.
You were a single mom and he was a single dad. He had Gabi who was now 10 and you had Marcus who was now 6. Then you two had little Anthony together who was now 2. At first he was at all the doctors appointments, all the parent teacher conferences, he knew what the kids were doing in school. He did bed times every night, reading in a silly voice with Gabi and Marcus both balancing on his lap while you rocked baby Anthony, smiling when you heard the kids giggling from the other room. You'd walk in after baby Anthony fell asleep in his crib, your heart melting as you saw this handsome giant of a man usually known to be cold and serious to everyone else, turn into the doting husband and loving father you knew him to be. Now, years of the monotony of every day life, pressures of raising a family, and the dying egalitarian attitude you two had as partners snowballed into your own version of Gottman's four horses, leading your marriage to Miguel into apocalypse.
At first, he welcomed the separation as you two battled in the kitchen.
"You wanna separation, fine, I'll do you one better. I'll fucking leave! Felicia's better company anyway," he smirked.
There wasn't real truth behind his statement, but he knew it would hurt you when you heard it. He'd be lying if he said Felicia wasn't an attractive woman, but, she simply wasn't you. He had learned his lesson on cheating years ago when he fumbled his relationship with Gabi's mother.
Ouch. But his words could be daggers when he wanted them to be, and he knew just how to twist them into you. Of course it was Felicia. Felicia, the gorgeous Black Cat recruit from work. Her silvery hair that halted midway down her back and startling blue eyes that could drown any man in them. She didn't have kids either, a life with her promised excitement, passion, and freedom. She was witty and funny and had a way of making anyone in her vicinity listen when she spoke. And to add insult to injury, she had a killer body.
After giving birth, you became so busy, and with reassurance from Miguel that you were still beautiful to him, you let your desire to get your body to "snap back" sit on the back burner. Signs of motherhood and postpartum marked you with purple stripes running vertical on your soft belly and a new plushness to your thighs. Basically, Felicia was a complete 180 from the woman you were, which made the sting of his words that much more unbearable. He took your vulnerabilities and threw them in your face.
"Oh so you admit it, finally! I know there was something going on between you two. Makes sense. She's a gorgeous woman, right? She can fucking have you then. What, are you in love with her?"
Miguel rolled his eyes, annoyed with the superficialness of your statement and your obsession with looks, despite him reassuring you many times that he wouldn't look at other women.
"I'm not in love with her, but she doesn't nag me all the fucking time like you do. I bust my ass every day for this family so you don't have to work. I don't know who this new woman is that I'm looking at right now and what she's done with my wife, but it's not the woman I fell in love with. It would be nice if you could show me a little appreciation once in a while."
You felt your blood pressure rise.
"Appreciation.... APPRECIATION, are you fucking kidding me?! I was up all goddamn night with Gabi and Marcus. I run this fucking household all by myself. I quit my fucking career to stay home and raise your kids. Do you not understand how lonely that is?"
"I'M LONELY!!! " he yells, triggered, the feelings bottled up, fizzed over and hurtled at you like a cork on a champagne bottle. "How do you think I feel? I got women at work practically throwing themselves at me but I don't do anything about it because I'm a good husband. Meanwhile, my own wife doesn't wanna fuck me. I'm a prisoner in my own fucking house."
Your eyes almost slipped from their sockets from rolling them so hard. He seemed to want a cookie and a gold star for just being loyal, the bare minimum.
"Oh, so you wanna fuck them? Go ahead! Maybe I'd fuck you if you actually gave a shit about me and not like I'm some damn fleshlight you use to get off!" You hurl back.
He left and checked into a hotel down the street.
A few weeks had passed and it was now Christmas. You were getting used to being separated but your heart still ached in your chest. You couldn't go on doing life, when the one person you did life with was nowhere to be found. You couldn't listen to your favorite songs, eat your favorite foods, or even look at your own children without being reminded of him. Gabi was his spitting image. Same with Anthony. Even Marcus, who was his stepson, started adopting Miguel's mannerisms. The way he'd scratch his head while he did his math homework, deep in concentration.
It was Christmas evening at your mom's. You joined the other women in your family, your non-politically correct Aunt, your soft spoken sister-in-law, your mother with a don't-try-me attitude, and your younger sister with a sass to rival your mother's. You were all complaining about the men in your lives, your aunt rattling off about her 3 ex husbands but, 'hey she collects alimony from two of them so she can't complain!', your younger sister complaining about the frat guys at college who just wanna get in your pants, your sister in law who's silent the whole time (your brother treats her like a queen), and your mom about your asshole dad with an erratic mother who was incapable of cutting the apron strings and made her life a living hell. The kids are laughing and playing in the basement, eagerly trying out their new Nintendo Switch Santa left under the tree.
"I'm here for my wife."
Your feminine council meeting is interrupted by an unwelcome masculine figure. It's your estranged husband, Miguel, the coffee-colored strands of hair that hung over his forehead starting to wet from the snowflakes that melted under the warmth of the room as he stepped inside, a look of regret and longing embedded in his eyes that you hadn't seen since your earliest days of knowing him.
His strong hands dangled at his sides in fists, his chest heaving up and down. His navy blazer bearing dark water stains from the melted snow. He had a revelation at work. He and Peter B. stopped an anomaly that was terrorizing the streets of Queens in Peter's universe. The battle was close, almost a little too close to where he lived, putting MJ and Mayday in direct danger. After the job was done, the moving and emotional reunion between Peter B., MJ, and Mayday was his epiphany.
As the little family reveled in their joy and relief of evading the ultimate disaster, the only thing there for Miguel at the point of his return was the inanimate, empty, thin walls of his apartment and the thoughts of you, his severed family, that inevitably haunted him. He needed you back. He needed to apologize and fix it now.
He ran from your house to your mom's in the snow and all. It was the first Christmas Eve he spent not in between your thighs and buried deep inside you. It was the first Christmas morning he didn't wake up to Gabi's blueberry pancakes and Marcus tackling him while Anthony screamed in delight. It was going to be the first Christmas night without his family by his side, an uncomfortably obvious empty seat at the table he rightfully belonged. Next to you.
Sometimes you don't know the value of something until it's gone. Sometimes life gets in the way and you forget to appreciate the person in front of you. Why did I treat my wife like garbage when all she ever wanted was for me to ask how her day was? Why were we on our way to winding up like both sets of our parents? Doomed to repeat the cycle of divorce and hurt. Doomed to lose your faith in love and marriage like all the maternal figures in your family before you did.
Now here he was, in the living room while your mom, sister, and aunt moved towards each other, eyes squinting, three pitbulls willing to jump in on your behalf while your sister in law just stayed frozen in place. He was in enemy territory and he needed to choose his words carefully.
"Not here Miguel..."
"YES here. Right now." He says in a firm voice. "You're not getting rid of me, woman."
You scoff, almost amused by his sudden urgency and painting you like you're the one who wanted this family to be broken apart.
"The kids are downstairs..." you start to say, hoping that the mention that innocent ears could be prying into the adult conversation would help him simmer down.
"I'll see them in a minute." He says flatly.
"I miss my wife...."-he chokes on the last word, wife.
"And I want her to come home." He knew at any time his words would give way to the reservoir of tears built up behind it.
You stood there, incredulous.
"I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want my own bed. I'm ashamed it took me losing you and the kids for me to wake up. And, I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever I can to be better. To be a better man for you and the husband that you needed. We both got caught up in real life and focused on the kids so much that we lost each other. Well, this is me trying to find my way back."
Your lips parted slightly as your breathing became heavier. This was all you ever wanted to hear him say. Stop neglecting the love between you two that laid dormant, a plant starved of sunshine. For him to finally shake off the stubborn shackles that was his ego and express himself to you. Let him allow you back into his heart, no longer as a guest, but a permanent resident.
"You're... you're everything to me. And I'm not leaving here tonight until you let me know if you'd allow me the opportunity to get hurt by you again," a tear rolled down his cheek, his scarlet eyes yearning, his hands pining for the feel of you. As though the madness of not having you alone could stop his heart from beating, stop his world from turning, rearrange life as he knew it into a hollow existence not worth seeing.
Your own reservoir could not be held back any longer and started to roll down your cheeks. He managed to peel back the walls you built with his apology, revealing the woman underneath who just missed her husband.
He steps closer to you now, eager to bridge the rest of the space between your bodies.
"You still love me?" he asked softly.
Your chest heaves, shoulders raising then falling sharply, feeling yourself crack with exasperation under his burning gaze as you softly answer,
"Never stopped."
He grabs you and pulls you into him, his embrace is tight as though you'd disappear if he dared to break it. He tangles a hand in your hair and presses his cheek into your head, his eyes closed, drinking in the scent he'd been away from for weeks. You bury your face in his chest, trying to make yourself small and allowing his frame to swallow you whole, not minding his wet shirt and blazer that still have a slight chill on them from the storm outside, allowing your body heat to seep into his. You both began to rock back and forth a little bit, still locked inside your hug. It was as though the passing of time had evaporated and it was only you two in the room, nevermind your family witnessed the whole thing.
After several long moments, you pull apart and he offers you one of his dazzling smiles, one you hadn't seen in months. The kids have made their way upstairs and shriek with excitement when they see their dad and Miguel bends down to scoop them up. You smile and stand beside your mom who scoops you into a side hug. With her blessing, Miguel stays and celebrates the rest of Christmas with you and your family.
Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are now all tucked in. The sugar from the chocolate they consumed all day had worn off, making them crash hard in their beds. You and Miguel are cuddled up on the couch watching the fireplace, taking some needed time as a couple. You stroke his strong arms that are wrapped around you with your fingertips, watching the way the flames leap and spark in the air when they crackle against the charred wood. You look up at him and feel a wave of desire wash over you that you had pent up for months as you study his chiseled features and the way the fire's glow highlights his skin.
"Should we end this Christmas with a bang?" You ask, pun fully intended.
Miguel looks at you tiredly, trying to act like that wasn't a witty remark but he lets out a chuckle. "I'd love to," he whispers.
He takes both your cheeks in his large hands and brings his lips to you immediately. They're soft and full. You feel yourself melting into him every time he sandwiches yours in between them. He reclines you backwards, slowly, until he's on top of you. He lets the weight of his body and hips come down on you little by little, making you arch your back, so your body can better receive him.
Once he lets you taste his tongue, you open your mouth wider, permitting him to deepen the kiss, tossing kindle onto the growing flame between you two, and it's not the one in your fireplace. You take your turn to dial up the heat, seizing his bottom lip in a gentle nip from your teeth, earning a low groan from Miguel and a tightened grip on your hair.
As you continue your steamy makeout session, he begins to hump gently against your clothed body, a nonverbal plea for the wet friction only the inside of you can provide.
After your frantic hands strip each other of your clothes, you've transitioned so you're straddling him in the lotus position, goosebumps popping up all over your skin as your bare body meets his, a high pitched gasp escaping you as you sink down onto him, his mouth falling open and his eyes shutting closed as he breathes in your ear,
"God, I missed you, baby."
You whine into his neck as you coil your fists in his hair. His hands fly to the soft flesh of your sides, using them to move you up and down, his haggard breaths making you weaker and weaker by the minute. You hum,
"I missed you even more."
The next move of his hips is harder than you anticipated, causing your brain to go fuzzy with pleasure.
"How much?" he exhales in a sultry tone.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you all week,"your tone turning into pleading as you feel yourself approaching your limit.
Miguel can't help but feel himself lose his mind a little bit at your words and at your reaction, sensing you won't be able to hold on much longer.
He lays you down, while still keeping himself inside. He slows down to a more sensual pace, breathing in the sight of your wild hair clinging to the couch cushions, evidence of him hitting you in all the right spots every time the inner corners of your eyebrows squinch upwards and your lips fall open.
His loving eyes burn with worship of your body and how well you're doing as he runs a thumb along your chin then pulls down your bottom lip, leans in and mumbles quietly into your mouth,
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. O'Hara."
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🖤
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remlionheart · 1 month
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NSFW Alphabet: Chuuya Nakahara Edition ♡
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⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ MDNI. really needed a fun lil drabble to break up my writer's block and this was perfect. silly but super fun to write. lemme know whatcha think. luv u ♡ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Chuuya definitely gives you aftercare, it's just not always the most well thought out when he’s gotten back from a long night at work. He doesn't remember to have dinner ready or pajamas laid out, but he still holds you as you collapse onto his chest. Laughs with you while the two of you place the 4th doordash order of the week to his apartment since you're both too spent to even think about cooking. He runs light fingers through your hair and kisses your forehead, teasing you for how hard you came while also reminding you of how fuckin' gorgeous you looked bent over for him. The thought of it alone promptly brings his lips back to yours, nearly earning you a round 2 before the food arrives.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
It takes Chuuya a long time to admit it, even if it's fairly obvious, but he's self-conscious about his body. About the way he thinks it should look versus the way it actually does. He’s always praising you. Always so good about making you love parts of yourself that you didn't know you could, though he rarely gives himself the same respect. Your thighs get a lot of his attention. He touches them constantly without meaning to. His hand resting on them while he drives. His fingers mindlessly gliding across them while you watch TV before bed. His face buried between them any chance he gets. He loves 'em. You decide to challenge him one day after a shower, using his own words against him: "Chuuya, tell me one thing you love about yourself -" you shoot him a pointed look, not giving him the chance to deflect with his usual sarcasm, "and be serious. You have to mean it." He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment, apprehensively looking over his reflection before he lets out a sharp exhale. "Fine. My eyes." "What about them?" You press. "They're... nice."
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
One of Chuuya's favorite highs in life is being pussy-drunk. Being so completely enamored by your taste and scent that he can't physically think of anything else besides you. He loves the feeling of your cum dripping down his chin. The insanely beautiful fucked-out noises you make for him when you sit on his face and nearly drown him in your release. He gets a sick satisfaction in showing up to work, knowing that there are still remnants of the morning head he gave you clinging to the collar of his shirt. You're his girl and he takes making you cum very seriously.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Chuuya is a dominant people pleaser, which is a dangerous combination to begin with, but especially when it starts blending into his finances. Being a Port Mafia executive, he has more money than he knows what to do with and he fucking loves buying you stuff. Taking you on shopping trips and watching you fill bag after bag with frivolous, designer outfits that you’d never buy for yourself otherwise. Swiping his debit card for purses and necklaces and shoes that total out to nearly $10,000. There's something almost addicting about it, he revels in your reactions. The way you look so awestruck every time he drops a fat stack of cash on you, but also how good it makes him feel being able to spoil you as much as he does. Alexa, what does “findom” mean?
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Chuuya’s experienced, but a lot of his past hookups were one nightstands or meaningless flings. Drunken mishaps that held little to no weight in his mind. You've both learned a lot from each other by being comfortable enough to explore things you wouldn't have with previous partners. Communication is so strong with him. He always wants to know what you like and if there’s anything you want to try but haven’t yet. He wants to know everything about your body - wants it to only respond to him. He'd had sex in the past, but he realized that he'd never really properly fucked someone until he met you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
As much as Chuuya loves bending you over, he’s such a slut for you being on top. Holding your hips to help guide you and thrusting up into you when you’re not expecting it, going as deep as he can while you sink back onto him with a pretty glazed over expression. The way your eyes widen every time he does it. The duality of being in control while also letting you use him. The view of your tits bouncing so perfectly for him while the sound of your ass smacking against his thighs echoes across the room. He loves watching you struggle to take the whole thing. You're usually holding onto him for support, hands clasped around his neck, your stare locked intently with his while your cunt throbs around him. The pouty fucking look that takes over your face when he plunges into you. You become a whimpering mess, trying to tell him how close you are with broken words as if he can’t feel your walls clenching around him. "Chuuya - 'm, I'm gonna -" "I know baby, keep going. Keep fuckin’ going. Doin’ so good f’me.”
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Chuuya's form of flirting is witty banter. Sarcastic comments that the two of you volley back and forth between each other. He's generally more serious in the moment, but he will literally never pass up the chance to whisper a snarky little nothing in your ear to get you flustered, especially in public. He loves making you blush. Loves knowing that he's capable of getting you so worked up without even touching you. Loves seeing you squirm and swat him away with a feeble, "Chuuya! Not here!"
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Chuuya never really understood the question, "does the carpet match the drapes?" and why it was such a hot topic when it came to redheads. It was wildly irritating growing up and getting asked that so often by his asshole friends. Of course they matched. Why wouldn't they? As an adult, Chuuya fully embraces this though. He takes pride in making sure he's well-groomed. If it were up to him, your lips would always be wrapped around his cock, so he makes sure to keep things as trimmed and polished as he can for you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Chuuya is the consent king, always making sure that you're just as into what's going on as he is. He finds subtle ways to check in on you while staying in the moment. "Tell me, baby. Tell me how it feels." He likes to make sure you're present, that you're not thinking about anything else besides the way he feels inside you. He would do anything to make you feel good. Anything. What he can't aways say with his words, he shows through his actions. He lets you know he loves you by stretching and filling you until you can’t see straight. He may act like he’s the one calling the shots, but you'll always cum before he does. He makes damn sure of it.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
His work schedule is demanding and doesn't always grant him the amount of time he'd like to have with you, so when he's stuck in his office after hours, Chuuya can't fucking help himself. The urge has been there all. day. and he's certain he'll die if he doesn't take care of it right now. He reaches into his coat pocket, dialing your number while he unzips pants and removes his glove with his teeth. His cellphone is wedged between his shoulder and his cheek when your voice finally spills out of the receiver. Before you can even ask how his night's going, you hear it. That desperate, heady tone that he only gets when he hasn't seen you in a few days. "Baby..." he groans, stroking himself upppp and dowwnn. He closes his eyes, imagining what you must look like lying in his bed. "I need you so fuckin' bad right now." "Yeah?" You tease, quietly slipping two fingers under the hem of your panties. "How bad?" It was only a matter of minutes before he was cleaning off his desk from the mess you'd helped him make.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Chuuya is the softest dom. As much as he likes to be in control, he folds so easily when it comes to you. Even when he’s “punishing” you, he’s doing it with things he knows you like. He loves putting collars on you or wrapping his belt around your neck and pulling at both ends until your pretty little pupils blossom into hearts while you struggle to moan out his name. Hearing you beg does something deranged to him that he can't quite put into words. He stays in control for as long as he can, but you always have the upperhand with how bad he wants to taste you. With how bad he wants to be buried inside of you. He'll tease and nip at you and try to drag it out for as long as he can, but at the end of the day, he's just as addicted to you as you are to him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Chuuya will fuck you anywhere and when he says anywhere, he means it. His favorite guilty pleasure though is definitely bringing you into Port Mafia. Making everyone well-aware of your presence as he walks around with you on his arm like you're the shiniest, most expensive accessory he owns. Shoving all of his paperwork off of his desk and bending you over, pinning your hands behind your back and pressing your face against the handcrafted Mahogany. Hiking up your skirt and ramming himself into you, knowing damn well everyone can hear you crying out his name as you cum. His two favorite pastimes: pissing off Mori and fucking you.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Chuuya secretly loves the attention you get when the two of you go out, even if it drives him a bit crazy at times. He can't deny the way his cock twitches when he notices the bartender size you up and then immediately avert his eyes when he feels Chuuya's stare on him. Chuuya knows you're gorgeous, it's an absolute fact for him, but to see the other people reel in how pretty you are too fills him with a feral sense of pride. He would fuck you in front of the entire world if he could just to show them what they'll never have.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There are very few things that Chuuya wouldn't do for you, but the one request he would struggle with if asked would be sharing. Even if it was a casual threesome with no strings attached, he’s a Taurus Sun, Scorpio moon - the man does not share and the thought of having to watch someone else touch you would most definitely send him into a murderous tailspin.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Chuuya loves both giving and receiving, for sure. But there's something about the way you taste that almost makes his brain short-circuit. He thinks about it while he's at work. Thinks about it while he's on missions. Thinks about it while he fucks himself when you're not around. He often finds himself daydreaming about his tongue swirling around your clit and the adorable, pitiful, fucked-out noises you make so easily for him. The way you whine and writhe against him. How he can always tell when you're close by the way your words start to break up. That cute little incoherent babble you let out as he plunges an extra finger into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He’s pretty sure that if he had to choose his own death, it would be drowning between your thighs.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Pacing all depends on the mood and setting for Chuuya. It's 1 am and you guys just stumbled back home from the bar? You're wearing the shortest black slip dress he's ever seen in his life, and he's had to restrain himself all night from not dragging you into the club bathroom and having his way with you? He's fucking you into oblivion the second you step inside his apartment. Hands tangling into your hair as he pins you against the wall of the entry way, pulling you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. It's going to be fast, rough, deep. You'll both wake up with bruises and love bites and well-deserved hangovers. But - it's 1 pm on a rainy Tuesday and you guys just got back home from the bookstore? You're wearing an oversized cardigan with a comfy pair of shorts, and he's been quietly admiring you all day, watching you dig through countless bookshelves until you finally found the one you wanted? He's fucking you so thoroughly. Taking his time as he helps you out of your sweater, smiling at your body with each layer of clothing that get tossed to the floor. He's kissing the crook of your neck, telling you how beautiful you are. He's fucking you with slow, sensual, affection. You'll end up drifting off to the sound of the thunderstorm afterward, the two of you wrapped up under a blanket on the couch while the rain taps against the window next to you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Chuuya's a giver who loves a challenge so quickies are right up his alley, really. You'll stop by the apartment on your lunch break, warning him that you only have 15 minutes, but he’ll only roll his eyes in response before telling you to hop up on the counter. He locks in immediately, his concentration fully on you as he spreads you apart. Two fingers holding you open so that his tongue has complete access to your clit, the warmth of his mouth and the pressure of his strokes making your legs shake around his head already and he's just gotten started. He's precise. Calculated. Unrelenting. Even if he's only competing against the clock, he's still never lost.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
As long as you're into it, so is Chuuya. He's very open when it comes to sex, especially when it comes to talking about it with you. You had a wet dream about him fucking you against the window in the sunroom so that the neighbors could see it? Lift that skirt up, angel, let's go give them a show. You read a book where the male lead lightly ran a blade across the main character’s throat while teasing her and you think you want to try it? His knife is already out of his pocket, his hand cradling your jawline. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” as he slices through the thin straps of your tank top, smirking at how hard your nipples are while it slips down to your waist. There a very few things he wouldn't be willing to at least try with you.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Chuuya can generally go a solid 2 rounds before he's completely spent, but if he's drunk, this number could be multiplied depending on his drink of choice that night. Chuuya's stamina is solid. He lasts awhile, but his entire objective while fucking is to make sure you're getting off. He's very in tune and aware of your body and tries to go with the flow of where you're at. If you can handle an hour or two, he'll gladly give it to you. He has no problem playing the long game, but if you're sleepy and only need twenty minutes to get there, he'll make sure he cums with you in that time. A truly adaptable king ˚₊‧ʚ♡ɞ‎‧₊˚
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
There's an armoire in Chuuya's bedroom that houses all of the obscenely expensive vibrators you'd asked him to buy you, not realizing he actually would at the time. He likes to keep them hidden for the most part - out of sight, out of mind. He'll be in the middle of fucking you. Stretching you out while your nails dig into his back. He'll feel your walls start to spasm around him. He'll watch your eyes flutter back. He'll feel how tight and snug your cunt is squeezing him. He'll know you're right there and that's when he'll pull out your favorite wand. Always when you're least expecting it. When you're already so cock-drunk and lost that you don't think you could possibly take anything more, he'll run it along your clit. Your body practically convulsing at the overstimulation. "Chuuya - ohmygod... I... I - can't. I can’t, I can’t -" "Look at me. You can take it, baby. I know you can. Gimme one more, okay? Just like that. There you go. Fuuuck, baby. Just - like... that."
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
The amount of sheer pleasure Chuuya derives from making you beg for him should be illegal. He’s constantly teasing you. Constantly trying to coax out desperate little cries from you. You're splayed out beneath him, legs spread beautifully, your cunt nearly dripping onto his sheets and he's still ghosting your lips with his. Wearing the most infuriating grin as he continues to rattle off depraved things like, "Baby, I wish I could, y'know? I really wanna give it to you, but I just don't believe that you want it." all while he's stroking himself just inches above you, making you watch the whole thing in agony but still not letting you touch him yet. "C'mon princess, show me how bad you want it. Let me see how you play with that pussy when I'm not here. Make me fuckin’ believe it.”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Chuuya will groan and talk during sex, but he's not necessarily loud. He's way more concerned with the noises you're making anyway. As mentioned, his bedroom love language is taunting. "No? You can't take it anymore? Ohh, your pussy's just so sensitive, huh? That's so sad. My poor sweet girl." before slapping your clit and smirking at you as you whine beneath him. "Oh, look at that. Seems like you can take it after all.” He'll groan against you whenever he goes down on you, reveling in how fucking wet you are for him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Chuuya is secretly sentimental. He might not always admit it, but he doesn't just remember your anniversary - he remembers the outfit you were wearing the first time he met you and what the weather was like that day. He saves ticket stubs from your dates. Takes pictures of you when you're not looking just so he can keep the moment forever. He plans gifts for your birthday weeks in advance. Any time you list off a restaurant that you want to try or a vacation spot you want to visit one day, he secretly jots it down in his notes app. He listens to you, really listens to you when you talk and keeps every gift you give him, no matter how small or insignificant.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Chuuya is 5'3, (though he'll most definitely try to convince you that the measurements are off no matter how many times your scale reaches the the same conclusion). Slender. Nice arms and a slutty fucking waist. Hands, hands, hands. Usually covered by gloves but so fucking pretty and veiny when they're not. Speaking of veiny? Chuuya Nakahara is packing. Giiiiirth, babydoll, and a lot of it. Short men are ALWAYS stacked, you can't argue with science.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Chuuya's anger and sex drive mirror each other in the sense that they're both always on no matter what. Even when they're calmed down, even when they're not as noticeable - all it takes is one wrong (or right) move and he's right there, fully up and ready to go. You touch his leg under the table during dinner one night and he immediately finds an excuse to dismiss the two of you for a few minutes, dragging you to a secluded corner of the bar where he pins you against the wall. His leg wedged between yours, leaving urgent kisses along your collarbone as he creates friction against your clit. “This what you want? For me to fuck you right here?” You try to keep your resolve but it’s hard for him to take you seriously when your objections are all coming out in the form of moans. “My needy fuckin’ girl.”
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He'll lay with you and talk about your day, but Chuuya is struggling to keep his eyes open after he cums. The minute you nestle into his shoulder, and he feels the warmth of your skin against his, he's fighting for his life to stay awake. Poor baby is just so tired, especially after dealing with Port Mafia all week. He feels safe in your arms. The thought of coming home to you is what gets him through most days anyway so once he's finally actually tangled up in you, he can't help but drift off into the comfort of your scent and the sound of your heartbeat.
⠀𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
‎♡‧₊˚ here’s dazai’s version ‎♡‧₊˚
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me-and-your-husband · 11 months
Text
body ink || e. williams
summary: you tattoo ellie's thigh. it's a bit of a compromising position, and it leads you down an unexpected road. female reader.
warnings: smut!, fingering (e receiving), oral (e receiving), tattoo guns, mentions of a needle, tattoos? finger sucking?? not beta read (i didn't even read tbis through once)
a/n: i've risen from the dead. lets chat, my inbox is open :)
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e.williams
Hey! I've gone thru your page and I love your work. Especially your big pieces, they're sick asf. I was wondering if you had any openings for July?
y/ntattoos
hi! i'm glad you like my work, thank you for the kind words! i've got a couple openings in july, when can you come in?
e.williams
I can come in whenever. I'll make time for it if I have to...I don't care when, as long as you're the one doing it haha
y/ntattoos
how does july 13th at 1pm sound?
e.williams
That works!
y/ntattoos
perfect. what are you looking to get done?
e.williams
I was looking to get something kind of floral but not super...soft, yk?
y/ntattoos
so not super feminine? like no roses?
e.williams
Yeah, exactly like that. I don't have a design in mind...I kind of wanted you to design it? I'll pay extra for it I don't mind, but I saw your other designs on your page and liked your style lol
y/ntattoos
okay, tell you what: i'll draw up a couple designs and send them your way before the appointment. sound okay?
e.williams
Yes! Perfect.
y/ntattoos
cool cool. i'll send you the quote once we choose a design. how big were you thinking? and where?
e.williams
I was thinking on my thigh...? I know some artists won't do thighs so if you're uncomfortable w that it's cool!
I was hoping to cover most of my thigh tho
y/ntattoos
haha dw about it. i'm fine with the thigh. trust me, i'm sure i've had weirder requests.
e.williams
Oh yeah? Like what?
y/ntattoos
had a guy a few weeks ago who wanted a full portrait of his grandma on his ass.
e.williams
Oh my goddd. Did you do it?
y/ntattoos
...
$300 is $300...
e.williams
At least I know you're cool with a thigh 😭
y/ntattoos
absolutely. well, i've got some more dms to answer but i'll get to drawing up your design asap. i'll be in touch, thanks ellie :)
e.williams
Sweet. Have a good one :)
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ellie walked into your tattoo shop about fifteen minutes early, to which the receptionist told her to take a seat as you were still finishing up with another client. "she shouldn't be too long."
you had reached out to ellie with five or six amazing designs, all of which she loved. she had such a hard time choosing between all of them, but you managed to rework her favourite parts of each design into one. you both finally came up with a tattoo design that she was obsessed with.
ellie half expected you to be a middle-aged woman with black lipstick and face tattoos, maybe even half of your head shaved and the other side bright pink. your page didn't feature any photos of yourself, just your work.
so when you came waltzing out from the studio and into the foyer, ellie thought you were the client.
"hey, your next client is here," jess said, gesturing to ellie in the chair by the entrance scrolling her phone.
"thanks, jess," you said before approaching ellie. "ellie?"
she looked up from her phone at you, completely startled by who was in front of her. a girl about her age, fucking gorgeous. there's no way you could've developed such skill in so little time.
"hi, yes, that's, uh, that's me," she said as she stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.
"nice to finally meet you," you said, holding your hand out for her to shake. her breath hitched slightly as she took yours.
"you too," she mumbled.
"i'll take you back into the studio now, i've just gotta wipe everything down from my last client." you started walking into the back and she followed you.
"cool, cool ," she said nervously.
this wasn't her first tattoo. she knew what it felt like. she wasn't sweating, stuttering, and shaking before she caught a glimpse of you.
her breath caught in her throat when she realized that you'd have to sit between her legs for most of the appointment.
she was so fucked.
she stood awkwardly playing with her fingers as you sanitized the tools and the chair, listening to you hum slightly to the music playing. she could hear the buzz of the tattoo gun from other artists in the space tattooing other clients.
in the back, an older man was tattooing a woman on the back of her knee. that had to hurt. next to them was a older woman tattooing a woman not much older than you two.
"alright, we're all set. i'm just gonna put this up," you said, unfolding one of those old-timey partitions that princesses change behind in the movies. "it's just to give us a bit of privacy, since you're getting tattooed in a bit more of an exposed place, you know?"
"oh yeah, that makes sense. thanks."
"don't thank me," you laughed. "okay, not to be too forward or anything, but if you brought shorts to change into, i'll give you a minute. if not, i'm cool with you just taking your pants off."
ellie laughed nervously, knowing it didn't even cross her mind to bring shorts. "take me out to dinner first, damn," she chuckled, starting to undo her belt buckle.
you pretended to occupy yourself with putting your gloves on and preparing your table as she took her pants and shoes off, leaving her in her black boxers, your mouth watering a little at her toned thighs.
"you can hop up on the chair when you're done. if you can just like, throw one leg over each side— yeah, like that. perfect."
ellie couldn't believe that she was borderline straddling a tattoo chair in her boxers right now. in front of you, especially. fuck.
without much warning, you slid your swivel chair almost between her legs.
"left or right?"
"uh, i write with my right hand, but i can do some things with my left?" she swallowed hard.
you laughed, "are you getting it on your left or right thigh?"
"oh, uh," god, she was an idiot. "left."
"cool. i'm gonna put the stencil on, then you can look in the mirror and see if you like it. 'kay?"
she nodded, watching you peel the film from the stencil, trying her hardest not to tense up when your soft fingers placed the stencil onto her milky skin, sending shivers straight to her centre.
when she looked at it in the mirror, she grinned, rotating her leg around to get a good look. "fuck, that's sick. i'd be content with just the stencil, you know."
you smiled at her through the mirror. "well hopefully you'll like it better once it's actually shaded."
once you had her back in the chair, you began prepping your gun. "okay, i know you've had a tattoo before, i saw that piece on your arm. so you know what to expect, right?"
"yeah. yeah, i'll be fine."
"okay. if you need a break, just let me know, kay? thighs can be sensitive." you switched the gun on.
"will do."
you began the outlining, humming to yourself over the buzz of the gun. she watched your face focused on the lines, keeping a steady hand.
"who did your arm piece?" you said as you wiped the ink away, making brief eye contact with her.
"oh, my ex-girlfriend did it. she bought a cheap tattoo gun when we were teenagers and i was her test subject i guess."
"cute," you said. "i was just curious." you went back to tattooing her thigh.
ex-girlfriend. that piqued your interest. i mean, it was kind of a given based on the fact that she was wearing boxers and looked like the idea of men repulsed her. and the way she took you in when she first saw you. like she was thirsty. and she was so fine, the way you could see her thigh clench and feel it under your fingers making you want to take her right behind that privacy partition.
"my ex let me tat her too. she was brave. let me do an entire leg sleeve my first time."
"oh?"
"yeah. it kind of ended badly though, so she probably regrets it."
ellie sighs, "that's the beauty of being into girls. they fuck you up."
"amen," you said, looking up at her again.
you made small talk as you worked. you found out that she was a university student studying astrophysics, that she works with her dad in the summer as a contractor to make some extra cash, that she teaches guitar throughout the school year, and that she's an artist herself (her media of choice being oil paints). she even told you that she missed work with her dad today specifically to come.
you quite enjoyed how she'd tilt her head back when you shaded some more painful areas, the cords in her neck more prominent and the column of her throat exposed.
four and a half hours later, the tattoo was finished, and you placed the second skin over her tattoo. you gave her all the aftercare instructions, going over the dos and don'ts. she held her breath when you didn't move your hand from her knee until you told her to go look at it in the mirror.
"holy fuck!?"
"...is that a good reaction or a bad reaction?"
"it's fucking amazing! jesus christ, that's so fucking cool. oh my god. you're amazing."
you blushed and thanked her as you watched her check it out in the mirror, inspecting it and gushing over how detailed it was.
she put her pants and shoes back on and you walked her out to reception.
"i've got this one, jess. take a smoke break," you said, smiling at your receptionist. she thanked you and scurried into the back room.
"alright ellie, that's $200."
"what? you quoted me at $350?"
you just smiled and looked at her, leaning forward against the counter. "pretty girl discount."
her face turned red as she took out her wallet and grinned. she counted out the money, laying $200 in cash against the counter.
"you gonna give the next client who walks through that door today a pretty girl discount, or is it just me?"
"actually, you're my last. and for the record, you're the first to get the discount."
she smiled and returned to her wallet, folding up more bills. after you put the money in the register, she leaned forward and tucked a stack of folded bills into the front pocket of your shirt, pulling you in close. "pretty girl tip."
you bit your lip as you looked at her. her eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips, finally deciding on your eyes. "you said i'm your last client, yeah?"
"yeah," you breathed.
"what're you doing after this, then?"
"well, a pretty girl hasn't asked me to go home with her yet, so i guess i'll probably pick up a coffee and—"
"come home with me?" she breathed, leaning in slightly. "please."
you giggled, "like i could say no to that."
tired of her teasing, her breath eternally fanning over your lips, you grabbed her and pulled her into you over the counter. your lips met and she groaned into the kiss, pulling away after a few seconds. she held her car keys up and shook them, "you ready, babe?"
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she had you pressed up against the wall as soon as she kicked her door shut behind her, hands all up in your hair, lips bruising against yours. you kissed her back fervently. your hand slid down to her core, feeling the wetness through her boxers and jeans. she whimpered into your open mouth at the feeling.
"fuck, you're so wet, ellie."
"then do something about it," she said, hiding her smirk in your neck as she sucked hickeys into it.
"then take me to your bed."
she led you to her room, closing and locking the door, just in case. you pushed her flannel from her shoulders and undid her belt buckle, undoing the buttons on her jeans and sliding them down her legs, being careful of her thigh. she groaned.
"this doesn't seem fair," she said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and sliding it off. she slid your pants down your legs and threw them onto the floor. "that's better."
she laid on top of you, caging you in, undoing your bra and sucking on your tits, trailing kisses down to your stomach. "fuck, so beautiful," she groaned. 
you pressed your knee gently into her core, "still want me to take care of that?"
"fuck, yeah."
you flipped her over so her ass hung off the edge of the bed and you got on your knees on the carpeted floor. she propped herself up on your elbows, watching your every move.
you began running your finger over her covered core, soaked so good that your finger was covered in her wetness when you took it away, bringing it to your lips.
"please, fuck, i need more, take them off," she said, bucking her hips up.
you hummed, "but i'm enjoying myself, el."
"please, i need you so bad y/n."
"what do you need ellie? tell me."
"i need your fingers, your mouth, anything. i'll do anything. just need you," she begged, shame gone.
"you're lucky you're insanely hot."
you slid her boxers off, watching the strings of slick that connected her pussy to the fabric. you laid your head against the thigh that wasn't freshly tattooed, tracing your finger through her dripping core.
"open up for me, honey," you instructed, gently spreading her thighs further apart.
she let out the most guttural moan when your tongue finally slid through her folds, collecting her juices on your tongue. her hands found your hair and pulled gently, making you moan into her cunt.
you sucked her clit gently, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. when your middle finger slid into her entrance she tried to muffle her moan with the back of her hand, but you yanked it away. "wanna hear you, el. don't do that."
"fuck, you're too good. fuckkk."
"you almost there el? can feel you clenchin' around me," you said, sliding another finger in and returning your mouth to lapping at her folds, paying special attention to her bundle of nerves.
she hummed and nodded fervently. with every thrust in and out, you felt her clench around you, a small white ring forming around the base of your fingers.
"fuck, fuck! i'm gonna— ohhhhh god—!"
you lapped up all of her release that you could, only coming up for air once she had to push your head away from the overstimulation.
you wiped her release from your face with the back of your hand and brought your fingers to her lips, "open."
she grabbed your wrist and obeyed, swirling her tongue around your digits and closing her eyes. "see how good you taste?"
she released them with a 'pop'. "i bet you taste better."
"i seriously doubt that."
"you've been between my legs twice today. i think it's my turn to be between yours. take your panties off."
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permanent taglist:
@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs
ellie taglist:
@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz
@pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb
2K notes · View notes
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Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.
an engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. what could go wrong?
pairing - childhood bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. cheating. alcohol mention. so much angst… i’d apologise but i’m not sorry.
word count - 3.7k
author’s note - get it? like, something borrowed, something blue… because it’s a wedding… I was half asleep when that popped into my head and I thought it was perfect, personally. I don’t condone cheating irl, but also… it’s your life, do what you want ;)
as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! so, if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging. thanks, angels <3
masterlist. inbox.
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The moonlight shines down, glinting off the diamond ring settled on your left hand.
Everyone's dancing, singing, laughing, enjoying each other's company in a rare moment of complete happiness. People keep grabbing you, hugging you, reaching for you to offer their congratulations.
Isn't it just so wonderful? Two people completely in love. Ah, to be young again.
The fairy lights twinkle where they're hung across the garden, acres of grass just begging to be decorated. You'd initially protested this venue - a huge country house in the middle of nowhere, with countless rooms and a huge courtyard.
It's just our engagement party, not our wedding. We don't have to be so extravagant.
This isn't extravagant - not for my family, anyway. Just say yes. I'll plan the entire thing, you don't have to worry.
And so you did. Say yes. To his proposal, the venue, anything he suggests. You can't find it in you to say no, to argue, to fight for what you really want. It isn't worth it.
"There you are, my soon to be wife!"
You take a deep breath, pretending the sound of his voice doesn't make you feel sick.
"My soon to be husband."
He can't see the grimace on your face, even though it's there, loud and clear. He can't read you, has never been able to.
"A car has just pulled up. You expecting anyone else?"
You are, but you won't let yourself get your hopes up. So you lie.
"Don't think so."
"Okay, well... you'll save me a dance, won't you? My mom wants to take some pictures."
You nod reluctantly, patting his arm with as much affection as you can muster.
"I think your brother is calling you."
You direct his attention to where his frat boy siblings are, hollering and yelling for him to come over.
"My guys!"
He departs as quickly as he came, leaving a wave of too strong cologne in his wake.
You take a walk from the garden to the front of the house, curiosity peaked. You scan the parking lot, and your heart stops when you spot the car in the corner.
A burgundy 1983 BMW 733i.
He's here.
You spin on your heel, searching almost frantically, when you hear someone clear their throat. You turn around, and there he is.
Leaning against a pillar, stood in a dress shirt and tailored trousers, hair perfectly styled.
Steve Harrington.
You're half convinced you're dreaming. The world moves around you in a daze, crickets chirping and wind blowing gently. You lock eyes with him, and can't fight the grin that spreads across your face.
“Don’t fret, baby. The life of the party has arrived.”
You scoff but almost run towards him, tripping over in your heels. He meets you halfway, arms snaking around your waist to keep you steady as you wrap yourself around him.
He smells the same. Cologne, spearmint, a faint note of diesel from the car. He smells like home.
Past home, you remind yourself. Not anymore. You have a new home now, with a soon to be husband that doesn’t understand you and a soon to be family that is built on morally questionable money and fake niceties. Steve’s a person of your past, a distant memory, a fading dream.
Except he’s stood right in front of you.
He's staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place. You’ve never seen it before.
"I didn't think you'd come," you whisper, begging yourself to pull away from his embrace. He doesn't let you go far, keeping his arms around your back as if he's worried you'll bolt at any given moment.
"And miss my best friends engagement party? Never."
"Best friends. We're not five anymore, Steve."
You roll your eyes, punching his arm lightly.
"What, I can't call you my best friend anymore?"
He picks you up, spinning you across the gravel of the parking lot. You're dizzy with it, the world passing by you in streaks of shapes and colours.
"Steve!"
"What?" he laughs. "You don't like this, best friend? What's the problem, best friend? Are you dizzy, best friend?"
"Put me down!"
Steve throws you over his shoulder as you both spin, strong hands preventing you from falling.
"Put me down, Steve, please - okay, okay! You're my best friend! Call me best friend all you want, please!"
Steve's crying with laughter, out of breath and rosy cheeked. He places you back on the ground, smoothing your hair down with rough palms.
You inhale carefully, grabbing onto his biceps as an anchor as you gauge your bearings. You look up at him, and lose your breath all over again.
Chest heaving, tongue darting over his bottom lip, hair mussed but still perfectly styled. He looks a picture, an ancient painting, a statue carved from the finest marble.
"I never want you to stop calling me your best friend," you whisper, so quietly that the breeze takes it.
"Then I won't."
Your hand slips down Steve's arm and into his, fingers linking gently.
"I missed you."
"I missed you so much, Birdy. You have no idea."
The childhood nickname shoots a lightning bolt through your heart, shiver running up your back involuntarily.
The two of you would sit and watch cartoons for hours on the floor of Steve's living room, pressing your little heads together to see the TV better. He'd joke that you sounded like Tweety Bird, all sweet and lispy. The nickname was born that day, and stuck ever since.
"How was California?"
"So good. I'll tell you all about it later. How's your engagement party?"
"It's good."
You try to sound convincing but your voice cracks, giving you away instantly. Busted.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. There's a few people you know back there - from school, the neighbourhood, family. They'll all wanna see you."
"I'll socialise later. Wanna talk to you first."
The intensity in his voice makes you nervous. You realise you're still holding his hand, so you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest.
"You didn't RSVP."
"Didn't get your invite. Travelling."
"I called your mom. She said she'd tell you."
"She didn't."
"She told me she did."
The crickets continue to chirp, gentle breeze blowing your hair into your face. You look at Steve pointedly, unwilling to be the first to break.
"What are you doing here, Steve?"
"It's your engagement party."
"So you've said."
"I haven't seen you in months."
"I tried to call, but you stopped answering."
"Birdy-"
"I'm just saying, Steve. We haven't spoken in months, I feel like you've been point blank ignoring me, I've had to come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn't be at this party or the wedding and then all of a sudden you just show up? Unannounced?"
"I know how this looks."
"Do you?"
You're not entirely sure where all of this anger has come from, but you can't seem to tamp it down. It's bubbling, simmering, threatening to spill over the surface dramatically any second.
"I wasn't sure I could do this. Any of it."
"Do what?"
"Stand by and watch you make a mistake."
You scoff, laughing at him in disbelief. He's never been one to sugarcoat things, and usually, it's one of your favourite things about him. But not today.
"Don't you fucking dare, Steve."
"Birdy, be real. The guy is a prick. And you want to marry him? You're a smart girl, the smartest person I know. You've got to see that none of this makes any sense."
"So you showed up here to yell at me? Criticise my life choices? Thanks, Steve. Thanks a million. Some best friend, huh?"
"I've done nothing but support you."
"You ran away! Across the country! How is that support?"
"Fine, maybe I can't support straight up stupidity!"
"Am I smart or am I stupid? Which one is it?"
Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair as he watches you pace the gravel in front of him. You're vibrating with fury now. It's something he's seen before. Something he knows how to navigate better than anyone. He knows you. He knows you need an outlet here.
He also knows that you're never more hyperaware than when you're mad. So, he takes his opportunity.
"I came here to tell you not to marry him."
You stop dead in your tracks, shaking your head in denial.
"...Why, Steve? Why would you say that?"
"You know why."
"No."
You take a deep breath and will yourself not to cry. In the garden, you can hear people laughing, singing along to some 70s pop song you've never liked. You pray silently that no one comes looking for you.
You take a step closer to Steve, standing up straight.
"Say it."
He looks at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden defiance.
"Say it, Steve. If you came all this way to say it, then fucking say it."
Steve steps into you, closing down the space. You don't move, determined not to back down.
"You're going to hate me if I say it, Birdy."
"I don't give a fuck anymore. Say. It."
Steve runs his tongue over his bottom lip, never once breaking eye contact with you. The silence seems to stretch on infinitely, thick and blanketing like fresh snow falling.
"I'm in love with you."
You feel like you've been punched in the gut. You take a deep breath and try to stay on two feet, wobbling where you stand. Finally, you find your voice.
"Fuck you, Steve Harrington. Fuck. You."
He laughs, but there's no humour in it.
"Yeah."
"How dare you? How dare you come to my engagement party and start confessing your feelings? You could have told me anytime, but you chose today?"
He goes to interrupt but you hold a finger up, effectively shutting him up.
"How long, huh? How long have you been in love with me?"
Steve's trembling, chest stuttering with the force of his confession.
"For as long as I can remember."
You haven't looked away from him once. You're frozen in place, suspended in the moment.
"No you haven't."
"You're gonna tell me how I feel now, Birdy?"
"Yeah, Steve, I am. Because I don't believe you. You're King Steve, ladies man, notorious player. You were never seen with the same girl twice in high school. Don't you remember? Sneaking into my room at night, whispering under my blankets about your latest hookup, telling me all the dirty details?"
"I remember," he whispers, voice laced with something like sadness. "Of course I remember."
"You don't get to tell me this now. It's not fair, Steve."
"Why not, huh?"
"Because I've always been in love with you! Always."
Steve stumbles backwards, dizzy and disorientated.
"No you haven't."
"You're gonna tell me how I feel now?" you laugh in disbelief. "I've always been in love with you. Everyone knows it. My parents, your parents, all of our friends... I think the goddamn mailman knew, Steve!"
"I didn't."
"Blissful ignorance," you chuckle humourlessly.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I knew it wouldn't change anything."
Steve's eyes go wide as he keels over, as if the wind has been knocked out of him.
"Wouldn't change anything? Birdy, it... I-I can assure you it... It would have changed everything."
You both look at each other, breathless and riddled with confusion. There's something flowing through your veins, something unintelligible, something unrecognisable.
"Why would you do this today?" you choke out, sobs threatening to break free. "Of all the days, Steve."
"Because I'm going insane!" he yells, voice raising. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't function knowing that you're going to marry a man you don't love. It's ruining my life, Birdy!"
"You don't think it's ruining mine? Huh?"
You take a breath, very aware that if you shout anymore, multiple people are going to come running from the garden.
"This is selfish, Steve. And you're not selfish."
He looks down at you, bottom lip wobbling.
"I am when it comes to you. Always have been."
"You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."
You choke out the words before bursting into tears, sobs wracking your frame. Steve grabs your hand and guides you to the stone steps, sitting you down next to him. Against better judgment, he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
He smells so familiar, so comforting, that it only makes you cry harder. You bury your face in his chest, fingers tangled into his dress shirt, holding on for dear life.
"I'm sorry," he's mumbling. "I'm so fucking sorry. I had to. I really had to."
"I know," you're muttering back. "I know you did. I know."
You lift your head to look at him only to find he's crying too, years of emotion dripping down his face. You wipe his tears with your thumbs, your heart shattering at the sight in front of you.
Steve's only made you cry once before. In ninth grade, you'd stupidly assumed that the two of you would go to the prom together. Steve had made a joking comment about always being your date, and you hadn't questioned it. Then, one Friday night, he'd snuck into your room to tell you excitedly that he'd asked Lizzy Buchanan to the dance, and she'd said yes. You'd burst into tears immediately, much to your teenage embarrassment, willing yourself to play your cards closer to your chest. Steve had crumbled instantly, crying because you were.
That's how it's always been. He cries, you cry. You cry, he cries. He's just not usually the cause of the tears.
"I'm sorry, Birdy," he chokes. "This was the only way."
"I know," you soothe, rubbing circles into his wet cheeks with your fingers. "I know. You're not the villain here, Steve. You never were."
His eyes are trained to yours, silent communication passing back and forth. The two of you have always had the ability to practically read each other's minds.
You're not sure who moves first - perhaps it's the universe, pulling you together by the strings woven into your chests - but suddenly your lips are melded together, moving as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Steve's clinging to you as if you're his life source, a man in the desert without water.
You tangle your fingers into his hair to tug him impossibly closer, eyes fluttering when he groans, deep and visceral. He spreads his legs and pulls you between them, both of you slotting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Your tears are dancing onto each other's cheeks, mixing like rain water and gasoline.
Suddenly, you yank yourself from his grip, standing up and smoothing down your silky dress. Steve prepares himself for the yelling, the screaming, a slap that he most definitely deserves.
Instead, he's met with you, chest heaving, skin warm, eyes heavy. You're looking at him expectantly.
"Come with me," you croak, voice hoarse and untrustworthy.
You grab his hand and slink through the front door, up the grand staircase and into a room with a heavy oak door. He follows you obediently, confused but completely trusting.
It's your hotel room. A marriage suite. A spacious, windowed room, with makeup scattered across the vanity and suitcases half unpacked on the floor. The bed is still made, which makes Steve breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn't had you here. The room isn't marred.
The minute you shut the door you're back on Steve, shoving him up against the hard wood. He grabs handfuls of your ass and spins you around, backing you into the cold surface behind you for stability. He lifts you easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he kisses you again.
Steve trails his lips down your neck as you rock your hips, desperate to find some friction. You whine gently, fingers tugging at his hair a little rougher than intended to get your message across.
"What do you need, honey?" he murmurs, afraid to disrupt the atmosphere.
"You."
Steve throws his head back as he groans, exposing his throat to you. You waste no time in nipping up the expanse of it, sinking your teeth in with no regard for the consequences. You're too far gone now, not worried about looking back.
Walking backwards, Steve tosses you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce off of it. He unbuttons and strips his shirt, pulling his belt from the loops as he goes. You can only lie there and watch, wondering when your best friend became less of a boy and more of a man. He's all corded muscle and tanned skin, freckled and perfect.
Steve crawls between your legs, kissing you tenderly.
"Wanna take my time with you," he murmurs between kisses. "Can't right now. Will, though. Promise."
You feel as if there's electricity crackling across your skin, pulsing and alive. It's never felt like this with anyone. It never will again.
"Promise?"
You can't help the slight insecurity that colours your voice, young and unsure.
"I promise, Birdy. Cross my heart."
He takes your hand in his and places it over his chest, as if to solidify his point.
You nod and kiss him again, desperate to have every inch of his skin on yours.
Steve shimmies your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him somewhere. Shucking his trousers off, he pushes your dress up and around your waist, groaning when he gets a good look at you.
"Prettiest girl in the world. He doesn't deserve you. Never did."
"And you do?"
"I'll spend every day for the rest of time proving that I do."
With that he's pushing into you, sliding home with one smooth thrust. Both of you gasp, grabbing onto the other person to use them as an anchor.
"Please, Steve," you're whispering. "Give me everything. I want it all."
"You've got no idea how long I've been waiting for this."
"I do," you laugh, "I do. Because I've been waiting just as long."
Steve chuckles and leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to memorise the way you taste. There's remnants of champagne on your lips, along with the minty lip gloss you've loved for as long as he can remember.
He wastes no time setting a steady rhythm, thrusts deep and measured. You rake your nails down his back, clawing at this skin, praying silently that you leave your mark. Little do you know, you staked your claim on him a long, long time ago.
"S'good, Stevie," you whine. "Fuck, so good."
"Does he make you come? Does he even try?"
You shake your head frantically, closing your eyes when Steve laughs dryly.
"Didn't think so. He can't make you feel the way I can, baby. He'll never be able to."
His words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, red hot heat building at the pit of your stomach. Steve places one hand at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it causing your eyes to roll back.
Your sweat slicked skin is plastered to his, every inch of you pressed together. Steve leans down to rest his forehead against yours, panting into each other's mouths.
"I love you," he breathes, hips getting quicker. "I love you. Fuck, I love you."
"I love you," you sob, back arching as you find your release. Stars dance across your vision as you tighten around Steve, nails leaving crescent moons on the skin of his shoulders.
Steve's right there with you, back flexing and fingers leaving their prints on your hips as he groans. It's the prettiest sound you've ever heard. Your mind loops it for you, playing it on repeat as he collapses his weight on top of your body.
"I meant it," he mutters against your damp chest. "I do love you. Always have."
You kiss his forehead gently, smoothing the hair away from his face.
"I meant it too. I love you. You taught me what love was in the first place, Steve."
He leans up to press his lips to yours, tender and honey sweet.
You realise the gravity of the situation all of a sudden, your heart rate increasing in Steve's ear.
"Hey, hey. Birdy. Don't panic, okay? We'll figure this out."
You think for a moment, weighing up your options in your head. Unexpectedly, you're jumping out of bed, fixing your dress and slipping on your underwear and heels.
"What are you doing, babe?"
You adjust your hair and swipe your fingers under your eyes to salvage your makeup in the mirror, turning to face the man who's now dressing himself frantically.
"Have you had a drink tonight?"
"No, I drove here."
"Perfect."
You grab your purse and stand by the door, waiting for him to follow. When he looks at you in pure confusion, you chuckle.
"Let's run away."
"Birdy... what?"
"Steve. You heard me. Let's. Run. Away."
He scans your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he finds is love. Adoration. Assuredness. That's all the confirmation he needs.
He runs at you, picking you up and spinning you around. Grabbing his hand, the two of you sneak down the stairs, slipping out of the front door as quietly as possible.
You throw yourself into the front seat of his BMW, vibrating with adrenaline as Steve starts up the engine. It roars to life, and you're very aware that people are going to come looking for you.
But you don't care.
Steve links your fingers, resting your intertwined hands in his lap as he reverses. You go to look back towards the garden, but you stop yourself.
"Can't move forward if you're always looking back, right?"
Steve laughs, leaning over to kiss your warm cheek.
"Truer words have never been spoken, Birdy."
He brings the car to a stop before you begin down the winding driveway, looking at you carefully.
"You ready?"
You take a deep breath, grinning at him.
"I've been ready since we were five years old."
He smiles at you, bright and blinding, and there's no doubt in your mind that you've made the right choice.
Can't move forward if you keep looking back, after all.
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@enigmaticloki @joekeerysslut @s-trawberryv-eins @wintressoldier36 @mangomastani
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lizzieisright · 2 months
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omega abs ? 😣
oh my fucking god yes
female alpha!reader x omega!abby
Palestine: what can you do
Summary: Abby is sure she will never meet her dream alpha after what happened with Owen. And then she meets you.
Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, descriptions of smut (heats/ruts), Owen is a piece of shit, reader is a sweetheart. Also I'll always make Ellie and Abby friends because their dynamic cracks me up every time.
Notes: this one is genuinely weird in terms of my writing style. It's 6k long for no reason except that I wanted to see how everything will play out and build some kind of omega!abby lore. Also it was meant as a bullet point thingy like hcs, but then it got too long, so the sentences might sound weird.
If you guys want something specific with omega!abby, reqs are open.
Me: *slaps the title of the fic* this bad boy can fit a whole multichapter in it.
/-/-/-/-/-/-
There's one thing Abby knows for certain when she turns 19: she is not a typical omega.
Abby's scent is not too sweet: she smells more like fresh roses than vanilla. All other omegas have more prominent scents, and Abby sees how alphas favour them. She is insecure about her scent, and she is not too prideful to admit she wants alphas to like her. Like any other omega Abby feels pressured by society to look a certain way - and she is already tall, so she starts going to the gym to get fit, to look more attractive, to grow that bubble butt everyone's talking about. She just started university and she wants to be cool.
(Ellie tells her it's all bullshit. Ellie is her biggest supporter and she is the one who growls at other alphas when it's needed. It's hilarious, because Ellie is fucking tiny. "I'm still an alpha, Anderson!" Ellie whines usually and Abby flicks her forehead.)
The gym works: she gets more attractive. Her butt is round, her arms are toned and her shoulders balance her hips, making her waist look thinner. Abby meets Owen and she thinks he is the one. He is the first alpha she spends her heat with. And well, maybe it's not how she imagined it would be, but Abby doesn't complain. After all, perfect alphas only exist in books and movies, not in reality.
(she dreamt about feeling safe and protected with her alpha, feeling loved and taken care of. Owen is all growls and bruises.)
Ellie hates Owen's guts. There's always some sick smell when they're in the same room, and Abby is doing all she can to manage it and make two of the most important alphas in her life like each other. Owen tries to convince Abby that alphas and omegas can't be friends - and it works. Abby stops spending too much time with Ellie, tricked into thinking that Ellie actually has feelings for her. Ellie lets it happen.
(Owen is so much more violent during ruts. Abby knew this too: alphas are ruthless in ruts, but she didn't expect being borderline assaulted. Again, she doesn't complain. She is in love, and Owen knows better.)
Abby keeps going to the gym, and in time her muscles grow and show more. Abby is happy - she put so much work into her body and it shows now! She is so much stronger now, and she doesn't mind that her waist is not so tiny anymore. Abby feels powerful.
Owen, however, gets grumpier with every pound of muscle on Abby's body: he doesn't like it. He doesn't support her when she shows how much progress she made.
Then he starts joking about it. He tells her it makes her look less like omega. That she is almost as big as he is. That people won't be able to tell who is the alpha in their relationship. Abby swallows everything and starts doing more cardio. She wants Owen to be happy. She wants to be his mate one day.
And then one day Abby catches Owen with another omega.
She is small and smells like coconut, she is everything Abby isn't.
Abby wants to die.
Abby calls Ellie for the first time in months, sobbing violently. Ellie picks her up and spends the night soothing Abby, and the next day beating the shit out of Owen. Yes, she is tiny, but alpha strength is alpha strength, and Ellie is furious.
Abby doesn't really recover from this. She thought Owen would be her first and her last, but now her dreams and her self-esteem are in ruins.
Abby blames herself for Owen's cheating. She blames herself for building her body, for not being omegy enough, for having a weak scent, for not being what he wanted. 
So Abby grows distant, believing she has no worth as an omega. She avoids alphas, she doesn't recognize when someone's interested. She doesn't let herself smell other people. The only alpha she still talks to is Ellie, because Ellie is Ellie. Her best goblin friend who doesn't even react to her heats, because she is so used to Abby.
(it actually breaks Abby's heart a little: is her scent so weak it doesn't affect alphas at all?)
Her younger brother, Lev, moves to the city for university when Abby is in her graduation year, and Abby puts her energy into taking care of him. She comes to his place from time to time, bringing food or snacks for him. They have movie nights as well. It makes Abby feel less alone. Less useless.
One day Lev asks her to come to the party with him: it's his first time going to a party and he has no idea what to do, especially since there'd be really cool people who are his seniors and he doesn't want to have an egg on his face. 
"Can you ask Ellie to come as well? Please? I need more cool people on my side."
Abby laughs and makes sure Ellie is going to come. Ellie adores Lev, so she agrees immediately.
This party is on another level, Abby thinks. It's not frat bros and awful alphas like it was when Abby went to parties with Owen. This party looks like all smart and successful people in the uni decided to get piss drunk, and it is as cool as it is hilarious. Abby knows some of them - she waves at Nora and hugs Manny when he sees her: they're only people Abby kept in contact with after breaking up with Owen. They stopped being friends with him the moment they found out what happened.
Lev is very nervous. He clings to Abby's arm and she laughs kindly.
"Hey, relax. You're supposed to have fun."
"Yeah, I know." Lev says, a little irritated, but it makes Abby and Ellie laugh again.
Ellie takes everything in her hands and comes back with three beers, opening them for Lev and Abby. Abby chuckles at her typical alpha behaviour, but doesn't tease her. They share a drink, and Lev is still nervous, so Ellie takes him to the dance floor and he finally relaxes next to his second favourite person and his first favourite alpha.
Or so Abby thinks.
She watches another person come to them, and by the way Ellie tenses Abby guesses it's an alpha. Abby tenses too: the protectiveness kicks in.
But the alpha smiles and hugs Lev like Abby does: like if this alpha was Lev's older sister. They talk for a bit and then Lev points in Abby's direction. The alpha nods and waves at Abby. She waves back, confused.
And then this alpha makes her way to Abby.
Abby is caught off guard: the alpha is hot. She is also friendly judging by the smile and the way she treated Lev, and Abby can’t decide how to behave around her. She is not bitter after what happened with Owen, but she is definitely out of practice of talking with hot alphas.
You watch Lev's sister's face go through a variety of emotions, and it makes you chuckle - you too would be confused. But you want to meet her and make sure she knows Lev is taken care of: he is under your wing. He is a sweet kid, shy one, and you know how nervous he is about everything, so you want him to have this safety net.
"Hi!" You say cheerfully and give your hand for a handshake. You try not to think of how beautiful Lev's sister is, how much her blue eyes hypnotise you. She is fucking adorable, that what she is. 
"Hi?" And her voice is soft too. You blink to clear your mind and tell her your name. You can’t smell her, but you’re pulled to her like a magnet.
"I'm Lev's student guide." Abby nods, not sure if she is okay with an alpha around her baby brother.
"I'm Abby, Lev's sister." You beam at Abby and she feels her stomach flutter. Abby quickly tries to kill the butterflies, but you seem so genuine. She can't smell you when there's so many people around, and maybe it's a good thing.
“Lev gave me your number as an emergency contact, and I just wanted you to know if an unknown number texts you that Lev is puking after doing beer pong, it will be me.” Abby can't help her chuckle: you do sound genuine. Abby feels like you really care about her brother and it makes her feel better. 
Lev and Ellie come back and Abby looks at how Lev's face lights up when you smile at him. Oh no. He has a crush on you. It breaks Abby’s heart: she sees how you treat him like a baby brother, and Abby knows Lev has no chance. She also thinks if she looked like this when she met Owen, all star-struck and hopeful. At least you look like a better person.
Abby also feels how tense Ellie is around you. Another alpha thing, but this one is annoying - Ellie’s protectiveness is borderline territorial, so Abby glares at her. Ellie glares back, but some of the tension goes away.
You ruffle Lev’s hair and ask him to enjoy the party and find you if they need anything. Ellie only fully relaxes when you’re lost in the crowd.
“She is the coolest.” Lev tells them and Ellie huffs. “She always helps me around. Saved my ass a few times as well.”
“Well, kid, I don’t want you to get hurt by her, okay?” Ellie says and Lev blushes. 
“Don’t worry, Ellie. I know nothing will happen.” Lev smiles. “She likes people on her level. Someone like you, Abby.”
Abby’s heart skips a beat in pain. There's no way an alpha like you would like an omega like her. 
Or if there is, then there's something wrong with you and you shouldn't be around her brother. 
“She doesn't seem too bad.” Ellie says almost through her teeth; she is as annoyed at her nature as Abby is, but she tries to have a clear head. “But if she hurts you, I'll kill her.” 
Abby would laugh, but the image of Owen's bloody face and a broken wrist don't let her. It's a good thing he didn't press charges, too humiliated to admit he got his ass kicked for cheating. 
Abby forgets about you until she is getting ready to sleep tonight. She puts her palm under her cheek, blissfully unaware, and takes a breath that is full of your scent. It shakes her, having an alpha scent on her, and Abby can't control herself.
Abby's cheeks burn, her heart picks up speed. Her cunt throbs. 
You smell amazing. It has an edge, like any other alpha’s scent, but it's not suffocating. Well no. It is, but it doesn't feel bad, it makes Abby bury her nose in her palm and take a deep sniff. It makes her feel safe. 
And Abby is terrified. She can't like your scent. It's dangerous, she can't risk herself like this, it's stupid. Lev has a crush on you, for god's sake! And even if she could, you'd never look her way. You're a good alpha and good alphas like pretty, small, sweet smelling omegas. Not Abby. 
She doesn’t know that she also left some of her scent on your palm. She doesn’t know you’ve been smelling it the whole night, addicted to the smell of fresh roses and memory of pretty blue eyes. She doesn't know that you struggle to control your eyes from changing to alpha red the whole time. 
You're ready to claw walls after meeting the prettiest omega of your life that you know is sweet and kind and smart: Lev really can't shut up about his sister. It's fucking eating you alive. 
And you have no idea when you'll meet her again, but then you remember that both of you are in the same university. So you start trying to figure out her schedule. You know she is a med student, so you take a chance at going to the library. 
And you're not wrong: Abby is there, looking miserable as she takes her notes. Your instincts kick in and you try to think of a way to make her feel better, but you get your shit together: it would be creepy. 
So you just walk over and ask to sit next to her. Abby is surprised, but she lets you anyway. 
It's awkward. You both are trying to not inhale too much, but the scents are respectively addictive: you smell her fresh roses and she smells your spice and safety. You want to bury yourself in her neck and mark her, scent her, make her yours, but you push these thoughts away.
“How's Lev doing?” Abby asks, not being able to concentrate anymore. It's even more embarrassing that you both smell of attraction, but it doesn't really mean anything: it was proven to be an instinct thing, therefore not reliable in human society. It just makes everything awkward for everyone.
“He is excellent, honestly. He got interested in charity work and I think he will soon be cleared to volunteer at animal shelters.” 
“Good. Thanks for looking after him. I don't want him to get hurt, you know?” Abby didn't mean to say this, but you catch the meaning of her words anyway. She can smell a faint hurt coming from you, but it's not big enough. 
“I'll do whatever I can to make sure he is safe.” You promise Abby and her attraction grows. You blink, but get back into conversation, trying to find more about Abby. 
Abby is.. reluctant. She is polite, but her answers are short, and you're not an idiot, you can take a hint, so you apologise for taking her time and go. 
Abby watches you go and gets filled with sorrow. You seem so sweet, and it scares her. She can't understand what is your angle and why are you bothered with her. She is sad because she wants you to be bothered with her. She wants you to like her; but Abby's brain doesn't even entertain the idea of it. Plus, Lev is crushing on you, it would be absolutely unfair of her to like you. 
The sour smell of sadness makes Ellie restless when she gets to the library half an hour later for their study session. She looks Abby over and tries to piece together what's wrong. 
“Did something happen?” 
Abby is also reluctant to tell Ellie, but she does it anyway. Ellie frowns the whole time, not pleased with another alpha upsetting her baby. Abby is quick to defend you and say that it's she who is the problem. Ellie kicks her under the table. 
“You are not a problem. It's Owen in your head again! Let go of this asshole. There are better alphas than him, fuck, any decent alpha is better than him. Don't assume shit.” Ellie tells her and Abby nods. 
Abby decides to try. Maybe at least she can make a friend. So the next time you see her in the library, she actually smiles at you. 
You swallow. Hard. Abby is gorgeous. 
So you sit next to her and surprisingly, the conversation flows so much better than the last time. You think she was just super busy back then.
Abby is so fucking oblivious it's not funny. She talks to you like she'd talk to Ellie: she doesn't believe your scent, convinced it's just nature and alphas are like this sometimes, so she is relaxed. You can be friends, she thinks. You're great and smell amazing, so you can be friends. 
You're almost salivating the whole time. Abby is cute as fuck, and she is hot as fuck: she takes her hoodie off and stays in a tight crop top, and you ogle at her arms and shoulders. She is incredible. 
“I know we've just met, but I can't leave without asking. Would you go on a date with me?” 
Abby's scent spikes in surprise, and then anxiety. An awful, sick smell that makes you back off. 
“Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.” You tell her, eager to get rid of this stench, to keep Abby calm and safe. 
“Are you sure?” Abby asks, not really believing her ears. 
“I mean, I really want to get to know you better.” You admit. 
“Lev has a crush on you.” Abby blurts and you laugh kindly. 
“I know. We talked about it with him. I don't let this stuff slide when it happens.” It makes Abby feel a little easier. “But if you're uncomfortable, I totally get it. I'd love to be your friend as well.” 
“...I need to talk to Lev first.” Abby admits, her cheeks feel hot. 
“Of course. Let me know then.” You smile sweetly, your scent is so full of attraction it's hard to find an excuse for it, so Abby just ignores it. 
She smells excited now and you beam. “You’re so pretty.” You blurt before you can stop yourself, but Abby starts to smell so sweetly and her cheeks are rosy now, you feel on cloud nine. 
“Thanks, I guess.” She says, shy, and you nod. You say your goodbyes and leave Abby to study. 
Abby thinks she's gone insane. Or you've gone insane. There's no way you actually asked her on a date. 
But Abby wants to go so much. She didn't admit it, but she was getting lonely, and then suddenly you came along and made her heart beat faster. 
So she gains courage and talks to Lev. He gets sad, but not the sour kind, the faint lavender of regret. 
“I told you she would like you.” Lev smiles and Abby hugs him, trying to comfort him. “She is good, I promise.” 
“I'm sorry, Lev.” 
“Don't be.” Lev chuckles and they spend the evening watching the movie. 
Next day you text Abby to find out if everything worked out and she gives you a positive. You grin like an idiot the whole day and plan the date.
You don't get all romantic on your first date, since you feel like Abby might get anxious, so you two just go to a bar and have a game of pool. 
It's perfect: you both are competitive, you get to see Abby bend down and you get to flirt a lot after a drink. Abby is wearing high waisted jeans and her bubble butt looks amazing in them. You don't know this, but Abby was desperate to make herself look more like an omega, and even if she couldn't hide her shoulders and biceps, she wanted to compensate for it, showing off her butt. 
Abby is oblivious to your hungry eyes when she takes a hit, but you're struggling. Abby is sweet and she smells so fucking good. You're itching to touch her, but you keep yourself in check. So instead you compliment her. A lot. 
Abby is flustered: no one ever talked to her like this. No alpha made it clear to her that they found her this attractive. But you keep your mouth running. “Your shirt looks so good on you.” “Sorry, I can't stop staring at your shoulders. They're very nice.”
Abby laughs at this one and feels more comfortable in her own skin. So she opens up. “My ex didn't like that I work out so much.” She chuckles, and you look at her in mock offence. It makes her laugh. 
“What a fucking idiot. Only cowards don't appreciate muscle mommies.” You scrunch your nose and Abby laughs harder. 
“God, what is this nickname?”
You get flustered and Abby feels all giddy. She didn't expect any alpha to get flustered, especially not because of her. “You know. When girls, especially omegas, build up a lot of muscles? People really dig it.” 
“Do you?” Abby asks, coy, and she sees the red flash in your eyes. It makes her press her thighs together. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” You say and there's a hint of an alpha voice. Abby's chest is going to explode. 
You don't kiss Abby properly tonight, instead opting to kiss her hand: you like her, and you don't want to rush it. Abby gets flustered and you can't help the spike in your scent that makes Abby's cheeks red. 
(No, you don't get off on her scent when you come home.) 
(No, Abby doesn't fuck herself on her fingers when she comes home, burying her nose into her palm where she can catch your scent.) 
You both take it slow. You kiss her for the first time on your third date and Abby folds in your hands while you purr and knead her sides. 
Abby starts spending more time at your place, where you just cuddle and watch something. You start catching her scent all around your apartment, and it's driving you crazy. You want Abby to be yours so desperately, but you make yourself think with your head and not with your dick, so you don't rush.
You're in your class when you get a call from Lev. You don't pick up the first one, but when he calls for the second time, you walk out of the class and take the call. 
Lev is crying. 
Turns out his heat came during his class and now he is scared of going home on his own. Your instincts kick in and you grab your shit at a lighting speed before storming to Lev. You text Abby while you're running, and then your mind shifts into protective mode. 
It's hard being around an omega in heat: it's hard for the both of you. Lev clings to you while you wrap your arm around his shoulders and walk him from campus to his place. You know your eyes are red and you're low-key growling, but you keep comforting Lev. 
“It's okay. I'll get you home, and Abby is going to be here, okay? I'll keep you safe, don't worry. You're doing great, just a little more, can you walk a little more for me?”
Your voice soothes Lev and you make it to his place where Abby is already pacing in worry. 
She takes a look at you and her breath hitches. Your eyes are red and so hungry, Abby feels horny and sorry for you: she doesn't know how much willpower you need to keep your head straight when there's an omega in distress and in heat. 
You both get Lev inside his apartment and you retreat to the kitchen while Abby takes care of Lev. She fusses around, gives him pills and sends him to take a shower. You sit straight, your firsts tight as you watch your girlfriend being all motherly. This mixed with the smell of heat makes you feral. It gets harder to control, especially when Abby stands in front of you, her gorgeous scent in your nose. 
“How are you?” She asks, compassionately. And you grit your teeth. 
“Can you-” You start with a growl and you smell Abby's arousal. “Fuck. Can you come here?” You pat your lap.
The moment Abby sits down you grab her and bury your nose in her neck, your arms are tight around her back. Abby yelps when you press her closer and her scent spikes with arousal, making you growl. 
“I'm not- I'm not going to do anything. I just need a moment.” You growl and Abby swallows. Her arousal tickles your nose and you growl louder, pressing your nose closer to her scent glands.
Abby is so wet in her pants she is afraid she will leak on you, but she can't help it: you're usually so sweet, hiding your nature, and now you're acting so alpha-like, and it does things to her.
“Shit. We can't-” Abby's arousal gets mixed with anxiety and you want to sneeze to get it out of your nose. 
“We're not doing anything. Not like this. I just need a redirection.”  You take a deep inhale full of Abby's scent and you finally settle down. Your voice returns and you feel like you can control your eyes again. You ease your hold on Abby and the anxiety goes away. “Did I scare you?” 
Abby is baffled. It's such a big contrast to how Owen treated her before, she is lost for words. You're worried if you sniffing her scared her while Owen didn't care if he left bruises.
The air gets filled with the smell of fresh bakery - the scent of love and affection - and you almost tremble under Abby in excitement.
“A little. I was worried if you'd stop.”
“I have excellent self-control, baby.” You wink at Abby and she slaps your bicep.
She moves a certain way that makes her pelvis move against yours and you grunt: the scent of Abby's arousal got you half-hard already, and you're kinda sensitive now. 
Abby also feels it. She grows red and you giggle, kissing her cheek. 
“Lev is going to be out of the shower soon, I should go.”
“Okay.” Abby gets up from her seat on your lap and you pout. “Do you want-” Abby shakes her head. It's a stupid idea. 
“Do I want what?”
“Something with my scent?” 
You swallow and nod. Abby stands for a second, thinking, and then just takes her shirt off, letting you see her in a bra. You see her small tits covered by her lacy bra and adjust your pants. She is so fucking hot and this is so not the time, but your cock twitches and gets harder with every second while you stare at the most beautiful omega in your life. 
“You're a fucking menace.” You growl again and kiss Abby with hunger, the rumbling in your chest resonating in hers. Abby goes pliant and kisses you back. 
It takes you two tries to get away from her, but Abby is so delicious it's insane. 
You spend the evening in your apartment, getting off on Abby's shirt, fantasising about her going into heat and how you would take care of her and how good you would make her feel. 
You're together for a few months now when Abby's heat comes. You can smell it on her the day before, when she is all whiny and tired, sleeping for the bigger part of the movie on top of you. Her usual rose scent is getting stronger. 
“Are you close to your heat?” Abby hums in agreement and you swallow, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I can smell it.” 
“Oh.” Abby is surprised. She doesn't have a very prominent scent so she didn't expect you to notice. “Oh I didn't think you'd smell it.”
“Your scent is my fucking heaven, of course I would.”
Abby blushes. Deeply. And you feel her press her thighs together. It makes your dick twitch. 
“I think it'll start tomorrow.” 
“Do you want me to be with you?” You ask innocently and Abby chuckles. “I mean, we haven't done anything yet and I understand if you want to wait and have normal sex first. Well, if you even want to have se-”
Abby cuts you off with a kiss and you relax. “We can try normal sex now.”
And you do. It's slow and sweet and you both laugh when you bump heads and knees and when you have to fumble around for lube since you're messy, but it's perfect. 
You're not aggressive, but you still growl and claw at Abby's soft thighs, and it's a perfect balance of care and pure animalistic want, and Abby feels wanted. She kinda wants to see your control break. 
And then you dip down between her thighs and Abby yelps and pushes your head away, shy. “You don't have to-”
“I really fucking want to. But if you don't want me to, it's okay. I won't.”
“I've never done it before.” Abby admits, embarrassed. She asked Owen to do it once but he looked weirded out by her ask, so Abby felt ashamed to ask again. You stare at her in shock - a good-natured one - and Abby hides her face. 
You slow down and get on her level again, gently moving her hand away. “Hey, it's cool. I didn't mean to belittle you, I just- you're so pretty and so gorgeous, who wouldn't want to go down on you?” Abby looks at you, so deeply touched by your care she feels her eyes water. She smells of love again and you giggle, burying your nose in her neck. “We don't have to do it.”
“I kinda wanna try.” Abby murmurs, smiling, and you beam at her. 
“I'll go slow, okay? Tell me what feels good and what's not, yeah?”
That's how Abby ends up being eaten out for the first time. She loves the feeling of your mouth on her and how your fingers curl inside her. She loves how your eyes gradually become alpha red the closer she is to cumming. 
She comes down from her high and looks at you, half naked and red-eyed, like a predator you're meant to be, and her cunt throbs. 
Abby rides you until you're a grunting mess under her as she massages your tits and clenches around you. You growl, but you don't grab her or hurt her, just let her have fun, and Abby is so fucking happy. 
“I can't wait to spend my heat with you.” Abby moans and you cum immediately, filling her up. 
This time Abby gets to feel safe and taken care of during her heat as you attend her every whim, every request, from “cum inside me” to “I really want some chocolate ice-cream”. You do everything, and Abby can't be happier. She texts Ellie as much when you're out to get her ice-cream and Ellie just sends vomiting emojis. 
Of course then she tells Abby she is happy for her and that she is going to be a best woman at your wedding. 
Abby doesn't want to admit, it scares her, but she wants to be your mate one day. 
You come back not only with chocolate ice-cream, but with some junk food as well. Abby can't help but to drop to her knees right in the hallway. 
You also help Abby recover after the heat, bringing her snacks and letting her nap every chance you can, and Abby knows she is in love with you. She doesn't even need to tell you: she constantly smells of love and lust around you now, but she decides to do it anyway.
You're balls deep in her while she pinches your nipples and nibbles at your scent glands, making you whimper in her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”
“I love you.” Abby says sweetly and you shudder on top of her, and Abby feels how your cock twitches when you cum. Abby feels your fangs scraping her scent glands and she cums too, milking you. 
“Fuck, baby, shit! I love you too, I love you so fucking much, shit-” You pant and Abby grins. 
Abby likes making a mess out of you. 
For some insane reason, Abby's excited for your rut. She didn't like spending ruts with Owen, but you're so gentle and patient, Abby is sure she'll be okay. 
Your rut comes after a month after Abby's heat. Abby likes how possessive you get in pre-rut, even though you start growling at Ellie, which doesn't end well with Ellie's explosive temper. You get along well any other time, but the constant stare down irritates Ellie to the point when she tells Abby, “go fuck the crazy out of your alpha, she is so fucking annoying. Yeah, you.” Ellie stares at you while you tug Abby closer on your lap, scenting her. “Oh my god, get a fucking room. I know Abby is like, your Jesus or whatever, but it's too much.”
Abby just giggles and enjoys how your growling changes to purring. Abby turns to you and cradles your face. “My alpha.” She murmurs and Ellie groans.
“I fucking hate you guys.”
“Not our fault you fell in love with another alpha, Ellie.” You chuckle. 
“Fuck off.” She growls and two if you laugh. 
Abby stays at your place and you get to fall asleep with her in your arms.
On the next day you wake up with a heavy head. You're already hard and Abby is right there, soft and sleeping. You think about how her wet hot pussy feels around your cock and your pheromones spike up so high Abby wakes up. 
She can tell right away that you're in rut. Your scent is suffocating. It's not soft, safe suffocating scent that Abby likes, it's the one that gets stuck in her nose and makes her cunt clench around nothing. She wants nothing more than to get on her fours and present herself for you - this is how much power you have over her. 
“My rut-”
“Yes, I-”
“If you don't want to be here, I think I can hold off for 10 minutes and let you leave.” You growl and it only turns Abby on. 
So she does what she wants - she gets on her knees, her cunt right in front of your face, and arches her back. 
“Knot me, baby.” 
All your restraints break. You're rough and you make Abby take everything: if she is not cumming on your cock, she is cumming on your fingers as you fuck your cum back into her, or she is sitting on your face. Abby struggles to keep up with you, since she is not in heat, but she can't wait to take your knot, and she tells you as much. You growl and fuck her harder, feeling your release building up. Abby is so pretty under you, covered in marks, her tits red from your mouth. She spreads her legs and you pin her thighs by her sides, watching your cock disappear in her pretty little pussy. You finally push your knot into Abby and she whimpers, tries to adjust to your size, but you rub her clit and she clamps on you.
“Mine. My omega. My girl.” You growl loudly while Abby clenches around your knot, thrashing on the bed. It's too much pleasure and she knows you're far from done.
And Abby is right. You make her cum on your knot four other times, and only after she makes you cum again - which means she cums st least three times more - you give her a break. You're still sweet, but now it's possessive sweetness. You don't let her do anything, bathing and feeding her, but she is so exhausted she doesn't even notice. 
“I wanna nap.” Abby tells you when she is snuggled against your chest. It's a small break before you would get horny again. 
“You should. You did so well.” Abby giggles and nuzzles your neck. 
“Don't wait if you get horny again. It would be a nice way to wake up.”
“I fucking love you.”
“You better. You're my alpha. It's a requirement.”
“You call me your alpha again and you're not napping, babe. Go the fuck to sleep.” You kiss her forehead and Abby laughs.
Abby doesn't know if it's luck or destiny, but this time she is sure: you are the one for her.
(and she is right.)
343 notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Shy
Aitana Bonmatí x Reader
Summary: You still get shy around your girlfriend
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The move was a long time in the making.
You bled North London, making your senior debut at just seventeen for Arsenal. You came straight up through the academy with Leah. You eat, lived and slept Arsenal and yet...
Barcelona was where you found yourself now.
They'd been chasing you for years, trying to get your pen on paper. You'd turned them down every time up until now.
It broke your heart to leave Arsenal but it was for the best.
Barcelona got what they wanted, three years of world class defence from you and you got what you wanted, to finally move in with your girlfriend.
Aitana was perfect. You'd met at a friendly years ago and really hit it off. Five years later and you both knew that the long-distance portion of your love was coming to a close.
There wasn't even a question of who was going to move. You may have bled North London but you were happy to trade rainy England for sunny Spain.
It felt a bit like the honeymoon stage again when you could barely keep your hands off of each other. Just a tiny brush of her hand against yours made you feel all tingly inside and you kept smiling at her like a loon, unable to wipe it off your face.
"You're disgusting," Lucy commented as you sat in the break room, head propped up on your fist as you stared longingly across the room," I've never met anyone more smitten before. You know you live with her, right? It's not too scary to talk to her, I hope."
You looked down bashfully, cheeks aflame.
Lucy had been leading the charge on teasing you about Aitana. You couldn't help that your girlfriend still made you feel like a blushing school girl.
"She's busy. I don't want to interrupt her," You replied, turning away to try and hide your embarrassment."
"Busy," Keira scoffed," She's talking to Mapi and Ingrid. That's hardly busy."
"They're having a conversation. People shouldn't invite themselves into conversations. It's rude."
"So you're just going to pine from afar?" Lucy laughed. She reached forward and pinched your cheek, ruffling your hair when you forcefully pulled away. "God, what are you twelve?"
You had a retort on the tip of your tongue but it died instantly when Aitana turned around.
She smiled at you and waved.
You waved back and looked down bashfully.
Lucy made gagging noises.
"Leave me alone!" You complained," Can't you go and bother someone else?"
"But you make it so easy." She flicked you away with her hand. "Go on then, lover girl. Try not to just stare and dribble down your top."
You flipped her off as you went, ignoring the way Keira was making kissy faces behind your back.
"Hi," You said softly, hyper aware of the red sheen to your cheeks.
"Hi," Aitana said back, patting the spot next to her.
You sat and moved to rest your head on her shoulder while Aitana's hand immediately gripped yours, lacing your fingers together tightly.
"You two are so gross," Mapi said," You're like little kids on their first date."
Unlike with Lucy, you didn't feel confident enough to argue with Mapi. You'd played on the national team with Lucy for years. You knew how to deal with her but, with Aitana's teammates, you felt it was probably better to just stay silent and not make eye contact.
"Just because we still have chemistry doesn't mean it's a personal attack on you," Aitana replied.
Her thumb gently stroked circles on your hand as she spoke and you melted into a pile of goo then and there.
"Me and Ingrid still have chemistry!" Mapi insisted," Just because we're not pushing our PDA on everybody doesn't mean we don't! You're like horny teenagers."
The permanent blush on your face only got deeper and you tried to hide your face in Aitana's shoulder.
"Look at her!" Mapi continued," She's like a pile of mush!"
"I'm still here," You muttered," I can hear you."
"Are you sure?" Mapi teased," I mean, can you really focus on anything apart from Aitana? God, you both make me feel sick. You're disgustingly in love."
"There's nothing wrong with that." Aitana looked proud at the comparison, puffing out her chest in a way that made your cheeks burn brighter. She dropped a kiss to one of them, nice and firm and you slouched a bit lower in your seat when you accidentally caught Mapi's eye.
"I mean, what are you doing to the poor girl?" She laughed," She looks like a tomato!"
"She's just shy," Aitana said," And that's fine! I love her like this."
You pressed a soft kiss to her neck and whispered for her ears only," I love you too."
881 notes · View notes
starsxblazing · 5 months
Note
Im so happy your requests are open. Could i request azriel x reader where they're already in a relationship and reader overhears azriel mention hed like to add a 3rd person in the bedroom. Reader just shuts down and cant believe hed even think of such a thing. Shes so hurt and distant even his touch makes her wanna vomit. Maybe she breaks up with up with him while hes thinking of marrying her. And then he finds out why shes so distant and it was just a huuge huuuge misunderstanding (idk maybe she walked in at the wrong time and overheard cassian talkin about how hes gonna get azriel in a 3 way for azriels bachelor party once he asks reader to marry him.) And now hes gotta win the girl back and grovel on behalf of his stupid brother lol. angst with a happy ending.
I just want to say just how much I appreciate all of the requests with the amazing ideas that I get. I enjoy writing each one so very much!
Misunderstandings
----
You padded silently through the river house in search of your boyfriend, being sure to use every lesson of stealth that Azriel had taught you to surprise him. It had been three days since you had seen him due to Rhysand sending you out to speak with other courts. You had been told that he was here with Cassian but the bottom floor was empty so you continued on. A smile formed on your face as it usually did when you thought of him and all of the amazing years that you had been together.
It was as perfect as you thought that a relationship could be and you were happier than you ever were in your entire existence. He was the only person that you could ever imagine spending the rest of your life with. There was no way that any other male could compare to him and how well that he treated you because not a day went by that he never failed in making you feel like a queen. 
After listening through every closed door, you still came up empty handed until you were outside of Cassian’s door. His laugh could be heard, clear delight and mischief in it. Even though it was unlike you, you lingered outside of the door to listen in on the conversation that was apparently amusing.
“A threesome,” Azriel stated.
“It will be the best time of your life,” Cassian laughed. “Y/N and another girl? Can’t tell me it doesn’t sound like a blessing from the Mother.”
“I think bringing another female into our bed is exactly-”
You darted from the home as your heart dropped at what you heard. The thought of sharing your boyfriend with anyone had your stomach turning as the betrayal hit you in full force. Returning to the home that you shared with Azriel only made you feel worse and you found yourself in front of the toilet, releasing everything that was in your stomach.
Once you could muster up just enough strength, you made your way to your bed on shaky legs. Mental images of the love of your life so much as touching another female had you feeling sick again and the tears came in full force. You couldn’t stand the thought that he was still there more than likely discussing which female he should pick to present to you.
It made you feel like you were nothing and your entire relationship had been a lie. Had he had these thoughts often? Did he lust after other females and you never noticed? Had you failed to please him in bed? Had everything been for nothing? The more that you thought, the more that you cried until you were finally taken by sleep.
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“Absolutely not.”
Azriel stared at Cassian, his arms crossed and jaw clenched. The last thing that he would ever want was someone else in his bed. The thought of touching another female much less anyone else touching you had his anger spiking along with his stomach twisting. 
“You really don’t want to accept my bachelor party gift?” Cassian asked, a hand on his heart as if he was offended.
“How would you feel if it was Nesta?”
“Sounds fun.”
He could only glare at his brother, unable to comprehend how the male could stand such a thing. Azriel’s jealous territorial streak shot through him that was followed by his own pain of seeing you broken hearted for simply suggesting such a thing. Even if it was something that he truly did want, he knew you wouldn’t want another female touching him and rightfully so.
“I haven’t even asked her to marry me yet,” Azriel scoffed. “She might not even say yes.”
“Are you kidding me!?” Cassian exclaimed, sitting up in his seat in disbelief. “She’s crazy about you just as much as you are with her! You’ve had that ring for weeks now. What’s up with that?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered but he knew full well that it was his own insecurities. “I need to get home. She should be home by now and it’s already getting late.”
“Yea, yea.” His brother waved a hand in dismissal as Azriel stood. “Even though I think you should stay and have more wine with me. It’s one of Rhys’s good bottles.”
“Of course it is.” Azriel rolled his eyes, making his way to the door before glancing at Cassian again. “You better not ever mention this conversation. To me or anyone else.”
With that, he left and rushed home. If there was nothing else that he loved, it was falling asleep beside you at night. The way that you always moved as close as you could get made it all the more special. He had finally gotten the one thing that he had always wanted most in life and he knew that he was blessed and he would never do anything to jeopardize it.
When he arrived home, there wasn’t a light on in the entire house which only made him frown. You usually waited for him to get home no matter how late it was and the fact that the sun had just gone down had him worried. The lightest scent of your tears hit him just as he made it to the bedroom floor, causing his stomach to drop.
He found you already in a deep sleep and his frown deepened on his face as his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed that your eyes were indeed swollen from crying. As he silently changed his clothes, his shadows became as restless as his thoughts, wondering what could have caused you such distress.  
He eased as gently as he could into the bed so that he didn’t wake you but when he went to pull you into him, you flinched and jerked upright. Even in the darkness, he could see your hateful glare before you moved as far away from him as you could get. He knew then that something was seriously wrong.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked gently, a hint of panic starting to rise in him.
You didn’t respond so he tried touching your arm and you simply jerked it out of his grasp. His heart dropped into his stomach and panic continued to rise to the point that he wanted to drop to his knees and beg you if it was needed to get answers. Instead of doing so, he let you sleep in hopes that you had simply had pent up frustrations from your mission that you weren’t ready to talk about.
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You awoke early the next morning since you had gone to bed so early and was relieved that Azriel was already gone. His side of the bed was cold as it was most days of the week. Your relief soon faded when your thoughts nagged at you, making you wonder if he was out scouting the city or maybe another court for another female.
All of the trust that you had in him was completely shattered as you wondered if he had been cheating on all of the late nights that he alleged that he was on missions for Rhys. If he had a secret mistress, you thought that may be an option for him if the other female could keep it a secret. Unable to handle the disgust rolling through like a storm, you packed what you could into a bag and left the one place that had been your safe haven.
It wasn’t hard to find an empty apartment in the city and even though it was unfurnished, you didn’t care. It would be just as easy to have a mattress placed in a bedroom. Paired with enough food to get you by, it would be enough. Your only intention was to hide away from the people that you had seen as your family. It wasn’t just the betrayal of your boyfriend but also with Cassian who saw you as a brother. He was wholeheartedly encouraging Azriel to basically cheat on you. You had thought that Azriel felt the same way as you did and wouldn’t want anyone else touching you but it appeared as if you were wrong. 
After two weeks of being alone in your bare apartment, the depression had completely taken over. You missed him more than you ever thought that you would but your thoughts were always on repeat of mental images of him putting his hands on another female how he had always done you now that you were no longer his problem to deal with. 
It was late in the night and since you hardly slept anymore, you instantly noticed the piece of paper and pen that landed on the floor beside your poor excuse of a bed. You blew out a sigh of relief when you instantly noticed that it was Rhysand’s handwriting but that feeling quickly disappeared as you read the message.
“You are needed at the river house tomorrow afternoon to discuss an issue that we are having with the court.”
Having to leave the safety of your apartment would mean that you would risk seeing Azriel. What was more, going to a meeting with the Inner Circle meant that you would have to see your boyfriend. Or maybe your ex boyfriend now. It was something that you weren’t ready to face. Not ready to face the possibility that there may be a new female by his side.
Sleep never did find you that night, your anxiety too high to do anything but sob as your body shook uncontrollably while your heart pounded wildly in your chest.
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Azriel came home that night to find you gone, your scent barely noticeable. It was enough to tell him that you had been gone for a while. Hoping to find some form of answers, he took two steps at the time to the bedroom only to find it vacant. Your drawers to your armoire were open and empty, the sight paired with how you had acted the night before sending his heart racing in true and utter panic. 
He instantly took to the skies, hoping to find you anywhere. Unfortunately, it was later in the night so there weren’t many people that he could inquire to about your whereabouts. He came up empty handed so before the sun could fully rise in the sky, he was at the river house in hopes that you were there. He felt as if someone would have told you if you were but there was also the chance that Rhysand could find you. 
“Please tell me you have seen her,” he begged as soon as his sleepy eyed brother opened the door.
“Who?” Rhys asked, his voice still full of sleep as he rubbed his eyes.
“Y/N!” he snapped. “I haven’t seen her since last night!”
That was enough to get the High Lord’s attention and bring him fully to the present. There was a gentle caress on his mental shield so he dropped the barrier to let the male see his memories. Rhys flinched as he pulled away but there was sympathy that he didn’t want on his friend’s face.
“Don’t panic,” the High Lord ordered in a gentle tone. “We will find her.”
“How are we going to find her when we don’t know anything!?” Azriel snapped, worry, panic, and pain lacing into every word.
“It didn’t appear as if there was a struggle and there were no unusual scents to indicate that she may have been abducted,” Rhysand mused. “Even if it was the case, she is trained well enough to handle whoever could have managed to come in.”
“But-”
“Has there been any disagreements as of late?”
“No-”
“Has she been expressing any discomfort with either of you being gone too long on missions?”
“No!” he exclaimed, frustrated because he had already come up empty handed on those thoughts as well. “Everything has been as perfect and happy as it could be!”
“We will find her,” his brother repeated gently.
Azriel’s chest began to heave at all of the horribly possible scenarios that could have happened to you. The thought of you being taken and injured hurt but what hurt him the most was the nagging suspicion that you had left him. Not only had you left him but done so when he wasn’t present and hadn’t communicated anything which was unlike you. Communication was a strong principle of a relationship for you so he must have done something irreparably wrong for you to leave him without a trace.
Unable to sit idly by and wait for Rhysand to search for you, he returned to the city. Despite the fact that he had searched all day and asked everyone he came across, it was as futile as the night before on any information about you. The pain felt as if it was eating him from the inside out while suffocating him in the process.
There were so many things that made him feel unworthy of anything but you had come along and changed that. There had been so many things that had hurt him in his life. If he lost you, it would be the one pain that he wouldn’t be capable of enduring. 
A week passed and each day was a repeat of the one before. He was sure that the citizens of Velaris were sick of him asking about you, especially when he was doing his best to be discreet. At the end of each day, he found himself curled up in the bed that he used to share with you to release the tears that he did his best to keep locked away until he was alone. His appetite had completely disappeared and he was unable to even force himself to eat. 
By the end of the second week, Rhysand had formed a plan. He watched as the High Lord wrote a note to you requesting your presence. The letter disappeared and he was reassured that if nothing else, you would come when the court needed you. His shadows had been restless the entirety of the two weeks of you being gone and tonight was no different. He was just as restless as they were with anticipated hope.
The entire day was spent pacing in different rooms to pass the time while thinking of any and every speech for whatever he had unknowingly done wrong. Feyre had done her best to calm and reassure him but nothing would soothe him until he saw you. It was what he had thought until you strode through the door of the river house.
Your scent hit him so hard that it made him stumble when he went to take a step towards you. He froze on his second step when you didn’t look at him but instead opted to watch your High Lord with anger in your eyes. It was at that time that he took a moment to do a full assessment of you only to find that you appeared to be in the same emotional state that he was in. You had lost weight and the dark circles were a harsh contrast to your unusually pale skin.
“I’m here,” you snapped, causing Rhysand to frown. “I’ve got things to be doing.”
“Care to fill us in on what ‘things’ you are busy with?” the High Lord countered.
“It’s not your business what I do with my personal time.”
“The personal time that a member of my court has used to stay hidden for two weeks.”
“I may be a part of your court, Rhysand but I do not have to report all of my movements.”
“No,” Rhys agreed. “But as a member of my Inner Circle, I would like the courtesy of knowing that you are safe when you decide to disappear without a trace. Maybe I should make you a spy as well since you do such a good job of it.”
“I don’t have time for this.” You bared your teeth at the High Lord who only smiled in return, the action causing you to huff. “Call me if there is actual business.”
“Y/N,” Azriel started when you glared at him once you began to make your way to the door. 
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you growled.
The four words had him recoiling his hand from where he tried to stop you. There was a hatefulness in your eyes that had never been laid upon him before and he could feel the burning beginning in his eyes. He loved you more than words could ever explain but yet here you were, staring at him with so much disgust. It made him feel lower than he had ever felt in his life. Lower than how he had felt as a child locked in a lightless cell.
“Please, please tell me what’s wrong,” he begged, blocking out everyone else in the room around them. “Please.”
“I really can’t believe you Azriel.” Tears filled your eyes and the pain in them had his knees buckling. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”
“Y/N, please-”
He tried once again to grasp your arm to stop you but your face paled as if the simple thought of him touching you made you sick. Every insecurity that he ever had began to resurface, every insecurity that had been healed simply because of your support. His worst fear had been confirmed but he refused to give up until he knew what had gone so horribly wrong. 
“Please tell me what I did,” he begged again once the both of you were outside. “How can I make it right?”
“You can make it right by going back to whatever bitch you wanted.” You swirled on him so quickly that he hardly had time to register that you did so, leaving nothing a handful of inches between the two of you. “I wasn’t enough so go find better!”
“Y/N, what are you talking about?” he asked in astonishment. “You are all that I’ve ever wanted. You are everything that I have been searching for my entire life.”
“I’m all you want but yet you have no problem with wanting a threesome?” His heart dropped as he realized what had happened. “Did you really think I would go along with that? Or were you planning it with someone else?”
“I wasn’t-”
Azriel took a deep breath and dropped down onto one knee while pulling the small box out of his pocket. He had kept it with him every single day and he was thankful that he did even if he was silently cursing his brother for ruining the proposal. Before opening it, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you into him before burying his face into your stomach.
“Cassian,” he mumbled with a defeated sigh. “Is a fucking idiot.”
“Oh, I know all about him encouraging such an idiotic thing!” you exclaimed while halfheartedly trying to wiggle free from him. 
“He was trying to talk me into accepting a gift from him for..”
“For what?”
He took a deep breath, savoring the contact, before he pulled away and looked up to you. A small gasp escaped your lips when he opened the box that held the blue sapphire engagement ring. 
“For a bachelor party if you said yes when I proposed.”
Hope was the only thing that he could cling to when tears formed in your eyes as they darted between him and the ring. He took note that your body began to shake just as the smallest smile formed on your face.
“You- You were..”
“This isn’t exactly the way that I had planned it out,” he chuckled, feeling relieved to see some light back in your eyes. “My life has been nothing but darkness until you came into it and lit it up as if you were the brightest sun that could ever exist. A sun that made all of the dark disappear and made me feel truly seen for the first time in my life. I have never known true love and happiness until I was able to call you mine and it would be the greatest honor that I could ever receive to be able to call you my wife.”
Tears were falling freely down your face but your eyes never left his. The love and adoration had returned and it took everything in him to stay on one knee until he received a reply of some sort.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” you exclaimed.
He was barely able to stand in time to catch you before you launched yourself onto him, throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. It bordered on pain but he didn’t dare complain now that you were back in his arms.
“Thank the Mother.”
You giggled at his words and then gave him the brightest smile when he slid the ring on your finger. He crashed his lips to yours, appreciating every single thing about you in a way that he hadn’t before. When he pulled away, there was a mischievous grin adorning your face.
“I think me and Cassian need to have a nice long chat.”
He laughed, a genuine true laugh, before following you inside and enjoying the scolding that his brother earned.  
@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain
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wordsbyrian · 5 months
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Divine - Kelley O'Hara x Reader
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Summary: Request was along the lines of Kelley x Reader where R is like divinely attractive. like the sun always hits her perfectly and everybody is in love with her. maybe she catches her teammates watching edits of her?
A/N: it was a request and then it was on the poll from ages ago and then i told @wosobullshit that i would write it so yeah. ta-da!
No one on the team is really sure how you do it.
It seemed like no matter what was going on around you, you managed to look perfect at all times, at least in your girlfriend’s opinion.
Doesn’t matter if you just finished running the beep test, or played a full 90 in a torrential downpour, or had just rolled out of bed for one reason or another. You always looked like you just stepped out of the pages of a sports magazine, even when you were forced to wear the hideous Portland jerseys.
The thing is, your girlfriend, Kelley, can’t even explain it but she’s more than willing to stand and stare and enjoy the view.
Currently, she and the rest of the team are watching as you help some of the trainers set up the cones for a drill and for some reason it seems as though no matter how you turned, you seemed to catch the light perfectly.
“Christ,” Sonny says, whistling lowly, “the fans might be right about Y/N.”
Kelley’s quick to reach out and swat at her young friend, “Hands off Sonnett.”
“I’m just looking.”
“No looking either!”
Unfortunately for Kelley (and the rest of the team) her voice travels just enough to be heard by the coaching staff, who are quick to rush them onto the field to get practice started.
Throughout practice, you do feel more eyes on you then normal but you brush it off as the training staff wanting to keep an extra close eye on you since you were still bouncing back from an injury. Of course, you noticed Kelley staring but that isn’t really anything new as you catch her staring at all hours of the day.
There’s also the cameras that feel like they're constantly on you. Which is weird to you but you push through and get on with the drills.
That afternoon when everyone has been loaded back onto the bus and you’re on your way back to the hotel, you notice the eyes on you again and you’re also pretty sure you hear someone whispering about the vein popping out on your forehead but you’re too busy arguing with Crystal to care.
“No, Y/N/N, there’s no way that you’re trying to tell me that ‘Hit Em Up’ is a better diss track than ‘No Vaseline,’” Crystal says, “‘No Vaseline’ is the diss track.”
A very important topic of conversation.
You shake your head fiercely before speaking, “Pac started the song by saying and I quote ‘that’s why i fucked your bitch you fat motherfucker’ then ended it by making fun of Prodigy for having Sickle Cell. Cube didn’t say anything that brutal.”
“Cube also didn’t need 3 of his friends to back him up in his beef,” Crys shoots back.
“He was beefing with the dudes that helped make him famous! HE DIDN'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS LEFT TO BACK HIM UP!”
The two of you have been having this argument on and off for weeks. Always over the same two songs and there is no doubt in your mind that your teammates are sick of hearing it. Especially the ones that have to put with you in POrtland and with the national team.
“Helped make him famous?!”
“Yes!”
“Seriously?!”
“Yes!”
The two of you are both leaning across the aisle, glaring at each other at this point, faces so close together that anyone else would’ve found it uncomfortable but the two of you had grown up together and as such were unfazed by it.
Out of the corner of your eye, before you or Crystal could continue, you noticed Kelley and Sonnett sitting in the back row glancing at a phone, then back at you, then back to the phone before giggling.
“I’ll get back to you in a second, Dunny, this isn’t over,” you say before getting up and heading towards your girlfriend.
It's not that hard for her to spot you coming, being in a confined space and all. The whole tall and tattooed thing you have going isn’t really beneficial to sneaking up on people either. BUt your height is currently working in your favor because it means you can easily see the way both Kelley and Emily scramble to hide the phone (and its screen) from your view.
“Hi, baby,” Kelley says when you reach them and drop into the seat across from them.
“Yeah, ‘hi baby’” Sonny mimics, earning an elbow to the gut from her fellow Georgian.
“That’s not suspicious at all,” you mumble under your breath. “Anyway, I was wondering if the two of you troublemakers made any plans for tomorrow or if I’ll actually be able to hang out with my girlfriend at some point this camp.”
“You can have her, Y/N/N, I’ve been trying to get rid of her days,” Emily jokes.
Laughing at the offended look on Kelley’s face, you press a kiss to the side of her head before heading back to argue with Crystal.
The next day, you and Kelley are basically attached at the hip, or more accurately, the hand with the way she’s been dragging you from place to place the entire time.
And now after much convincing (read: whining) from you, you’ve finally got her to agree that a nap is a good use of your afternoon.
There’s only one issue…
“Babe, the key to a successful nap is having your eyes closed.”
“My eyes are closed.”
“They aren’t,” you say.
“How do you know my eyes aren’t closed? You’d have to have your eyes open to tell.”
“I can tell,” you say, still not opening your eyes, “because I can always tell when you’re looking at me. Even in the world’s most crowded room, the feeling of your eyes on me is unlike any other. So close them so I can sleep.”
A soft kiss is placed on the underside of your chin and there’s a bit of shuffling as Kelley tries to get comfortable. You let her squirm for about 30 seconds before you tug her firmly against you.
“Yea that’s enough of that,” you say. “And for love of God, stop staring at me.”
“You say the sweetest things to me when you’re tired.”
“Mhmm, love you too. It’s time to go night-night now.”
“That’s the tone you use with Charlie,” Kelley’s voice is indignant.
“Shhh, it’s time to go night-night.”
There’s some grumbling from the older woman but you ignore her in favor of going to sleep.
When you wake up from your nap, Kelley is nowhere to be found which isn’t very surprising. Luckily you know exactly where to find her or so you thought.
The walk to Sonny and lIndsey’s room is a quick one but you get turned away at the door by LIndsey who tells you that neither Frat Daddy is inside. She tells you that they said something about the social media team but you instantly decide you want nothing to do with that.
So instead you head off to find your best friend.
Marcel.
But to find him you need to find his mother, an easy task especially when all you have to do is follow the music. Which leads you down the hallway to the room where the PTs are set up.
Walking in, you’re not surprised to see Crystal on one of the tables getting a massage, while Lynn plays with Marcel on the ground. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Uncle sitting on the other table getting her hands looked at, but you don’t pay any attention to that. Instead you walk in and pick your little homie up.
“Hey,” Lynn calls out.
“Sorry Lynnie,” you say, “Marcel and I have some very important business to discuss.”
“He’s one!”
“Gracie’s corner is incredibly serious stuff, Williams. Crys, I’ll come find you when he needs a diaper change.”
You hear small chuckles from Lyss and the trainers but you’re mostly focused on the way Crystal grumbles her breath while shoo-ing you out of the room.
As you leave you can just mak e out the voice of one of the trainers saying, "It's like she doesn't even know she's doing it."
Whatever that means.
You spend the next 30 or so minutes wandering around the hotel, alternating between letting the toddler run ahead of you and carrying him while he mushes his fingers against your face, babbling on about whatever 1 year olds like. You make sure to respond when he pauses, wow-ing or asking him simple questions to encourage him to continue.
Eventually, the two of you make your way down to the conference room that’s been converted to a common area for the team.
The amount of heads that immediately turn to face you makes you slightly nervous and the nerves only worsen when you see Kelley and Sonnett once again shoving their phones behind their backs.
Rolling your eyes, you go and ploop yourself and Marcel down next to Charlie, finding the company of the two toddlers more entertaining than that of your teammates. 
Unnoticed by you though, both of the kids' mothers as well as a member of the social media team taking photos of the three of you. There’s also a few unheard comments directed at Kelley that may or may not have something to do with baby fever.
Life at camp continues in the same manner for the next few days with you going about your business while your girlfriend, her goofball friend, and the social media team continue to act strangely.
It all comes to a head one day after training.
The media manages to corner you before you get on the bus and they ask you to react to a few tiktoks that fans have made about you.
It takes you all of 3 seconds before you realize what you’re watching.
“Are all of these thirst edits of me,” you gasp, not removing your gaze from the screen. “This one is captioned: I’d let Y/N Y/L/N tie me. NEVERMIND!”
You manage to get through the next 5 minutes.
You stutter and blush and sweat your way through all 5 but you manage to make it through.
Not all the videos are as sexual as the first one, some feature clips of you with Marcel and Charlie but it still makes you very very uncomfy.
When you get on the bus, you’re greeted by the sight of most of the team grinning at you like maniacs, clearly already knowing what just happened.
“Who’s idea was that,” you ask, still standing up front.
No one speaks, so you groan before beginning to trudge your way to your normal seat across from Crystal.
On your way you notice the way both Kelley and Sonny can’t seem to hold back their giggles, so you pass your normal seat and go and sit with them instead.
“The two of you aren’t nearly as funny as you seem to think you are,” you say, dropping into Kelley’s lap.
“But we really are,” Sonnet laughs while poking you in the back.
“Yea it’s not our fault that the entire internet thinks you’re divine. I’m not going to be the one who argues with them.” Kelley leans up to press a kiss to your cheek but pouts when you lean away then stand up. “I love you,” she tries.
“Love you too.”
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chamomiletealeaf · 19 days
Text
Birthday Gifts
Simon Riley x afab!fem! reader
a/n: In honor of Simon's birthday on the 18th, I give you this 🤭 I also wrote this to Birthday by JP Cooper.
Warnings: sub! Simon, a real sloppy blowjob, riding Simon, pet names, reader is super touchy and sweet with Simon
taglist: @thatonepupkai
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You turned the stove down as the steak in the pan sizzled. You had some music playing while you waited for Simon to come home and couldn't wait to surprise him with a nice steak dinner and some kisses. Not to mention the cute little baby blue satin slip dress lingerie you had on under his hoodie you wore.
It was Simon's birthday, and he had been on base all day since he refused to take the day off even when Price assured him it would be alright. What a stubborn man he was. The good thing is it gave you time to fix up this little surprise you had for your boyfriend and you knew the task force would take good care of your man on his special day.
Simon had a rough life, so you understood why he didn't enjoy reflecting back on it, like celebrating a birthday. You're surprised he even told you when it was. But you were determined to help change his outlook on his birthday, because without it, you wouldn't have him, and he wouldn't have you.
You set the table and lit a few candles with a smile humming along to the music, really wanting to set the mood for the special day.
You headed back to the stove to check the mashed potatoes and that's when you heard the key jiggle in the lock on the back door making you nearly jump with joy.
Simon trudges in with a sigh and you run up to him and throw yourself in his arms before he can even say hi to you.
You run up to him and throw your arms around his neck, placing little kisses all over his face while he regains his balance.
"Hi honey! Happy birthday baby!" You say between kisses.
Simon tries to hide his smile by biting the inside of his cheek but lets a light laugh out while he drops his hands to your hips.
You then grab his hand and lead him into the kitchen with you to show him what you've been cooking.
"C'mon I made you some dinner baby." You say, giddily skipping into the kitchen dragging Simon with you.
Simon looks at the stove and sees your pot of homemade mashed potatoes, pan seared steak, and seasoned green beans waiting to be eaten.
"Oh lovey, you did all this for me?" Simon says, taking note of the beautifully decorated dining table set for you and a little vase of flowers in the middle.
"Of course I did, it's your birthday." You say with a smile. while you dip a spoon into the potatoes and raise it to his lips with a hand underneath it so none of it goes to waste.
"Here try this baby, tell me if it's good." You say, and Simon leans forward to take the spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and he makes an approving grunting noise.
"Mmm, damn love that's really good." He says, licking his lips.
You beam up at him wide eyed at his praise, glad that your surprise is at a good start so far.
"Really? It's not too salty? I don't need anything else?" You ask, ready to fix whatever it is he wants.
"No they're absolutely delicious. They're perfect. Just like you." Simon says, giving a little pinch to your cheek making you giggle.
"Go on and sit down honey, I'll get this all ready for you. I made everything just the way you like it." You say, and Simon doesn't know how to respond. He's never received affection like this before you, and he's not sure how to process it.
He stands there in the kitchen for a second looking at you getting ready to plate the food, deciding on what he should do next, but you smile at him and shoo him out the kitchen.
"Go on! Go sit, I'll be right there." You giggle, excited to spoil him.
Dinner was delicious. It's been so long since Simon or you have had a real home cooked meal like this. You were always too busy to cook from scratch like this and Simon was sick of the cold and bland mess hall food.
You two had spent dinner feeding each other bites off each other's forks, giggling, and bumping your feet against his legs while looking up at him through your eyelashes. You just looked so pretty.
When dinner was over, you had a little treat for him for dessert that you hid in the fridge.
"I have something else for you. Wait right here." You whispered to him before getting up to go to the kitchen.
You giggled as you took the red velvet cupcake out from the fridge and placed a candle in it, trying to mute the sound of the lighter as much as you could to not give away your surprise.
A few seconds later, you walked back into the dining room with the tiny cake on a saucer for him, which made him laugh.
"Happy birthday honey." You say again as you place it in front of him before kissing his cheek and taking your seat next to him.
"Go on, make a wish." You smile at him, and he smiles back.
"I've already got my wish right in front of me." He says and you push his chest with a laugh.
"No c'mon, seriously, make a wish. And you can't tell me what it is or it won't come true." You say, and he rolls his eyes, finally closing them and making a wish before blowing out the candle.
"Yay!" You clap your hands together and lean in to give him a kiss on his cheek, then his lips before you take the candle out of the cupcake and bring it to his lips.
"C'mon try it. It looked so good when I saw it in the store today." You said.
"Oh so you made dinner homemade but not this?" He jokes with a smirk and you act offended.
"Ok now you don't get it at all." You tease as you tug the cake away, and he grabs your wrist.
"No ok I'm sorry baby I'll try it." He says, but as he leans in to bite the cupcake from your hands you shove it into his nose making him grunt.
You erupt into laughter while he sputters with frosting all on his nose and mouth.
"Oh you little fuckin- tease." He says with a laugh, and you lean in to lick the frosting off the tip of his nose.
You're a giggling mess looking at Simon with frosting all on his mouth trying to wipe it off.
"Here, I have a better idea to clean you up." You say quietly, laughter dying down as you kiss him.
You kiss him through the sweet frosting on his lips and he moans. You climb into his lap straddling it while you lick your tongue into his mouth, really getting a taste of the cake you just shoved in his face.
"Mm.. How's the frosting lovey." Simon teases and you giggle.
"Tastes almost as good as you." You respond, deepening the kiss.
When all the frosting is off his lips, you continue making out with Simon as you grind your hips down into his lap making him moan.
He grips your hips and bucks up into you with a whine and you move to nibble on his ear.
You bite and lick at Simon's ear making his breathing get heavier as you whisper into it.
"I have one more surprise for you baby." You whisper, Simon's grip on your hips getting stronger as you continue to grind on him in the dining room chair.
You lean back and grip the hem of his hoodie you're wearing to pull it over your head, revealing your satin baby blue slip lingerie you had bought for tonight.
The lingerie was tiny and allowed your ass to peek out from under it as well as the matching cute little excuse for panties to go with it. The satin clung perfectly to your tits, your hardened nipples poking through it showing Simon how ready you were for him and the satin panties clung to your now dripping pussy.
"Fuck dovey. You look fuckin' stunning." Simon says breathlessly, pushing you back so he can get a look.
"Lemme see these little panties yeah?" He asks, and you life up the slip just enough for him to see the wet patch forming on them.
"Fuckin' 'ell." Simon moans through gritted teeth as he goes to massage your tits next, moving his gaze from your panties to your nipples. He palms at your tits through the satin and goes to suck on your nipples through the fabric.
You both moan and you grab his hair, pushing him deeper into your chest.
"Yeah, just like that baby, it's all for you." You coo at him and continue to grind into him as he sucks your tits through the satin lingerie.
After a few moments, you gently push Simon away and he looks at you with the sweetest, honey colored puppy eyes you've ever seen.
"Aw don't worry honey, We're not done. C'mon, follow me." You climb off Simon's lap and guide him by the hand to the couch and he follows like a lost pup.
"Go on baby sit down, want you to be nice and comfortable yeah?" You say, and Simon obeys, eyes never leaving yours.
He sits down and watches as you maneuver between his legs onto your knees while you run your hands up and down his thighs.
"Wanna make my birthday boy feel good. He deserves it doesn't he?" You ask him and he just gulps in response.
"Aw c'mon sweetie, tell me you deserve it." You demand softly and he relents.
"I- I deserve it." He mumbles out, staring at you with his big, tired, honey colored doe eyes.
"Deserve what?"
"To feel good."
"Good boy." You coo, and he swallows thickly again, your praise sending shocks down his spine straight to his cock.
You unbuckle his belt and pull his throbbing cock out before giving it a few pumps.
Simon hisses and throws his head back while you jerk him off lightly.
"Oh fuck." He murmurs, and you smile.
You lean down to lick from the base of his cock all the way up to his already leaking tip.
Simon was fucking thick and about 8 inches long. He was fucking big and it always made you drool at the mere thought of his pretty cock, let alone having it stuffed in your mouth or pussy.
You finally spit on his cock and take him into your mouth. You slowly push him down as far as you could take him, gagging a little more than halfway down, the contraction making Simon buck his hips.
You then start to speed up, lewd and wet noises coming from your mouth as you suck him off like your life depended on it.
"God, fuck. Such a perfect little mouth." Simon whines as his eyes roll to the back of his head as he bites his fist.
You giggle and start to bob your head up and down, twisting and pumping your fist around the rest of him you couldn't take into your mouth.
"Yeah just like that. Fuck." Simon moans again, watching you take his cock happily down your throat as saliva starts to spill out of your mouth and down your chin, some getting onto your chest and his thighs.
You pop him out of your mouth and lean forward to rest your tits on his thighs while you jerk him off, string of saliva connecting you to his cock.
Thick, wet squelching sounds fill the room as you jerk him off.
"Yeah? you like when I blow you like this? All nice and messy hm?" You coo at him and he nods, head going dumb to where all he can do is nod and babble.
He looked so pretty with his eyebrows furrowed and mouth wide open panting for air. His cheeks were the prettiest shade of pink and you couldn't help but smile at how cute he looked like this.
You take him back in your mouth as you jerk and suck him again, your saliva continuing to drip all over the two of you and spilling over your hand wrapped around his cock. This was probably the sloppiest blowjob you've ever given him and he was in absolute heaven.
"Fuck love I- I'm gonna cum-" Simon babbles out between whimpers.
But no matter how pretty he looked like this, this wasn't how you wanted him to cum.
You stop your movements right before he cums making him whine.
"Wh- why'd you stop?" He looks down at you with the sweetest and saddest eyes like a kicked puppy, and you can't help but sympathize with him.
"Oh I know baby, I know." You coo, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs.
"But I want you to cum inside me. My birthday boy deserves to cum in a nice, tight, wet little pussy hm?" You ask and he nods his head, eyebrows still furrowed.
"That's a good boy." You say with a smile, and stand up, seductively taking off your panties before you straddle him.
Normally you would have teased him a bit, rubbing his cock against your covered pussy, but today was about him and only him. You were gonna make your man feel the best he's ever felt on his special day.
You slowly sink down onto Simon's cock making him throw his head back and let out a choked moan as his hands fly to your hips.
You slowly rock back and forth, getting used to his size before you start properly riding him.
Once you've become accustomed to his size, you lean forward into his ear, resting your hands on his chest as you ride him.
"Yeah you like that? Like when I make you go dumb hm? Must be so tired being a big strong soldier all the time huh, just need to go dumb for a bit and not think don't you baby." You say into his ear and he whimpers in response.
"Yeah that's it, my baby deserves to be well fucked and fed. Especially on his special day hm?" You coo at him as you bounce your ass on his cock, the sounds of skin slapping and your squelching pussy fill the room as you fuck Simon on the couch.
Simon is a dumb fucking mess under you, not able to form a coherent sentence other than whimpers, babbles, and an occasional "fuck" that falls from his lips.
He grips your hips so hard that it hurts, but you love it. He drags his hands up to your waist, bringing the fabric of your slip dress up with his hands so he can watch you ride him. You lean back and place your hands on his knees to really give him a show as you start to bounce on him faster, making sure he sees your pretty body and face as you make him feel good.
"Fuck dovey I- mm fuck you're- hnnn- gonna cum- gonna fucking cum." Simon grunts out and you moan at his words, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.
"Go on honey, cum for me, cum inside my little pussy, it's all yours baby." You moan.
Simon tightens his death grip on your hips and subconsciously tries to fuck up into you, but you quickly lean into him again and place your hands on his hips to keep him down and to use as leverage as you ride him so hard you're sure your thighs are gonna be sore for the next week.
You press your tits into Simon's chest and suck on his neck as you feel him twitch inside you. You grab his face and press your forehead to his as you look into his eyes, wanting to watch him as he cums.
"C'mon baby, that's it, take your birthday present honey." You coo in his ear, and that's all it takes.
Simon's eyes roll into the back of his head and his cheeks flush pink as he cums inside you with a choked whine, he bucks his hips up and you feel him throb inside of you, filling you up more than he ever has.
Feeling him throb inside you as he cums triggers your own orgasm and you pulse around his cock, milking him dry.
You moan as you slow your pace, riding him through his orgasm and you through yours.
"Fuck- I love you so much love." Simon says as he kisses you, and you kiss back.
"I love you too honey." You smile against him, hugging and kissing him all over.
"Thank you. I loved my gifts. This one was my favorite though." He says with a smirk, and you giggle.
"You're welcome baby. Glad they were a hit." You say back with a huge smile plastered across your face.
"Of course they were. Couldn't have asked for anything better." He says, big dumb smile also plastered across his flushed face.
"Now, can we finish that cupcake?" He asks, and you laugh.
"Whatever you want, it's your birthday." You say, and Simon leans in for another kiss before picking you up and bringing you back to the table to finish sharing the red velvet cupcake you had given him.
Simon never knew a love like this was possible, and every day it's proven to him through you, not just on his birthday, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
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makncheese12 · 11 months
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Woe is me
Wednesday Addams x shifter!reader
Summary: Wednesday struggles with her feelings
Warnings: i honestly don’t know, slight angst if you squint, ooc! Wednesday Addams
A/N: the reason I posted so much today is because I probably won’t post much other than a few times so I did a few things last night and finished them up today, I will infact continue to keep updating as much as I can🫶🏻
I’m not really gonna make this into a series but more like HC’s and one-shots cause I really like the whole feel to it and I will be posting a part 3, don’t worry😭 it’s mostly because this whole thing needs a back bone.
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You sat on the bench in the quad, your limbs stretched out lazily as she basked in the rare warm sunlight. This was your favorite spot in the school, and you were glad to be able to spend some time here even in your cat form.
Being a black panther was no easy feat, and you had spent many months perfecting your abilities. But sometimes, you just couldn't help but feel helpless, like you were trapped in this form with your own body betraying you.
The way your human body gave out far too quickly from sickness and had to take time to heal was not helping at all either.
You sighed, feeling a pang of frustration at it all. Your fur ruffled as you tried to shift back into your human form, but it seemed that your energy reserves were too low. The transformation process was one that required a lot of concentration, and with your body feeling so depleted, it was almost impossible.
Your eyes began to droop as you drifted off into a small nap, the rhythmic thumping of your — suddenly — tiny heart the only sound you heard. You were almost grateful for the respite, even if it was just for a few moments, as it allowed you to forget about the constant struggle to keep control of your powers.
You didn't know how long you’d been there when suddenly, you felt a loud thud rumple into the ground and your head yanks up on the ready, already being vulnerable in your position.
Noticing it was just a group of werewolves messing around and tackling each other, your small body relaxes, closing your eyes and basking in the sun.
As you continue to rest on the bench, your eyes closed and breathing steady, two gorgon girls begin to approach you, drawn to the adorable cat that appears to be taking a peaceful nap.
"Oh my god, it's so cute!" one of the girls exclaims, pointing at you as she continues to walk towards the bench.
"I know, right?" the other girl replies, her eyes glued to you as well. "Can we pet it? It looks so cuddly!"
Your ears perk up at the sound of their voices, and you open your eyes to see the girls approaching. You suddenly seem to enjoy the attention you’re suddenly getting, tail swaying back and forth as you stand and stretch your back up to prepare yourself for them.
Before you have a chance to protest, one of the girls reaches out and begins to scratch behind your ears and immediately start to purr at the feeling.
As you feels the girls start to pet you, you’re completely relaxes into their touch, loving the feeling of their hands on your fur, and can't help but enjoy the attention they're giving you.
As the first two girls continue to pet you, they're joined by other students, noticing the way the two girls are crouching down by a black fur ball they couldn’t help themselves. Before long, you’re surrounded by a group of people, all of them giving you attention and love.
If they knew you were human, they’d act differently but as of now, you were just a stray cat that occasionally wandered inside their school.
But you don’t seem to mind, in fact, you seem to be eating it up. Your eyes close again, and you can’t help but purr softly, enjoying the feeling of their hands against your fur as they pet and scratch you. You strangely feel safe and comfortable in this moment, surrounded by the warmth of these people.
As the petting zoo group continues to grow, a mixture of amazed students in awe, all drawn to the adorable black cat in the middle of the quad, you can't help but feel a sense of happiness in this moment.
As for Wednesday, she couldn’t stand what she was seeing as she stood there, feeling a strange mixture of emotions wash over her. On one hand, she was feeling a deep sense of protectiveness towards you, a feeling that she had rarely ever experienced before and only reserved for certain people — her family. On the other hand, she found herself feeling a twinge of jealousy, a feeling that she had never been comfortable with or rather no one has.
She had always tried to keep her emotions in check, to maintain a veneer of stoicism and cool detachment that had become second nature to her. But now, as she watched those around her ‘pet’ and coo over it, it was as if a dam inside her had suddenly burst, and all of the feelings that she had been trying to repress were finally starting to come to the surface.
Wednesday knew that she had to do something, to take control of the situation before it escalated out of hand. But she wasn't entirely sure what to do. She knew that she couldn't just let those people keep petting you, but she also didn't want to make a scene and draw attention to herself.
As she stood there, lost in her own thoughts, Enid appeared beside her, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Isn't that the cat that keeps coming to our dorm?" she asked, gesturing towards you, who was still purring and enjoying the attention.
Wednesday's face twisted into a scowl, but before she could respond, she was interrupted by the arrival of more students, all drawn to the adorable black cat. She watched as they continued to pet you, her eyes narrowing as she felt these feelings within her reach boiling point.
In that moment, Wednesday knew that she had to act, to take control of the situation before things got out of hand. She turned to Enid, her voice laced with a sarcasm that she couldn't mask. "Yes, that's the cat," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "And if you don't want to end up on the wrong end of her claws, I suggest you not go and pet her but rather get out of here before things get ugly.”
Enid, unphased by Wednesday's coldness, simply smiled. "Whatever you say, Willa." the blonde says as her eyes travel back to you, on a mission to get through the crowd to pet you herself.
Wednesday rolled her eyes before looking back to you, eyes narrowed as she felt the feelings within her come crashing down around her like a tsunami. She had never been so overwhelmed by her emotions before, and it was a feeling that she didn't know how to handle.
She needed to get away, to get some alone time to process everything that was going on inside her. She turned to Enid, her voice sharp. "I need to be alone right now," she said, her eyes fixed on Enid with a look that she knew would make her not question her and back off.
Without another word, Wednesday turned and stormed off towards her dorm in Ophelia Hall, her boots stomping against the tile as she went. She needed to get away from everyone, to be alone with her thoughts and her feelings.
She knew that she needed to confront the feelings that were eating her up inside, to figure out why they were there and what she was going to do about them. But she also knew that she needed some time to herself before she could even begin to tackle those questions.
As she walked out of the quad, her mind racing with thoughts and emotions, she couldn't shake the feeling that something inside her was starting to change, that the control that she had always had over her emotions was starting to slip away. And that scared her more than anything.
————
You sighed heavily, feeling the weight of Wednesday's silence pressing down on you. You knew that Wednesday was going through something, and you wanted nothing more than to help her, to be there for her. But Wednesday refused to open up to you, she seemed to get like this often so it wasn’t a surprise.
As you watched Wednesday type away on her typewriter with her characteristic focus, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and concern. You wanted to be there for Wednesday, to help her through whatever she was going through, but it was clear that Wednesday wasn't ready to share her burdens yet. And that’s was made it all the more frustrating.
So, instead, you decided to sit down next to Wednesday's chair and just be there for her and wait, in case she ever decided to reach out and talk. You let yourself be present, focusing on your breathing to not disturb her and trying to stay calm and patient. Even though you desperate wanted to know what was going on, you knew that forcing Wednesday to talk would only push her away further.
As the minutes turned into hours, Wednesday continued to type away, her nose buried in the paper she was typing as her eyes stayed on the letters and paper. You watched her closely, hoping to pick up on some subtle cue that would reveal her thoughts and feelings, but Wednesday's expression remained focused, revealing nothing of what was happening inside her head. Only fueling your concern and frustration. Wednesday always had a blank expression you couldn’t read so it didn’t exactly help.
It wasn't until late at night that Wednesday finally seemed to stop, taking a deep breath and sitting up in a straighter position. You felt a flutter of hope in your heart, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Wednesday was finally ready to share what was on her mind.
But instead of saying anything, Wednesday merely cleaned up her surroundings and put her written pages away, stretching and standing up from her chair. "I'm going to bed," she said, her voice neutral.
You felt a pang of disappointment in your chest, but you didn't want to push it. You knew that Wednesday would talk when she was ready, and you weren’t about to pressure her into opening up before she was ready.
So, instead, you simply nodded, your eyes following Wednesday as she stood up from her chair and made her way to her closet to get ready for bed. You watched as Wednesday closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the silence of the dorm.
You let out a sigh before getting up and leaving the dorm, perhaps you would be more lucky tomorrow.
————
As you lay asleep in your dorm, there was a sudden sense of unease that settled into her before something pinches your arm gently. You snapped awake with a start, startled to see Wednesday standing over you, her eyes blank as usual.
You lay there, staring up at Wednesday, trying to make sense of what was going on. "Wednesday," you say quietly, your heart racing. "What are you doing here?"
Wednesday didn't respond, just stand there, staring down at you. After what felt like really long moments, Wednesday spoke, her voice low and slightly trembling, something most wouldn’t notice but you were quick to hear it being so used to Wednesday cold and harsh tone.
"I'm confused," she said, her words come out quick as she continues to stare down at you. "I don't understand what I'm feeling."
You felt a pang of concern in your chest, seeing the frustration and confusion on Wednesday's face. "What do you mean?" You ask, keeping your voice gentle.
Wednesday struggled for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "It's you," she said finally. "It's the way you make me feel."
You felt a shock of something she couldn’t explain as she sat up, realizing that Wednesday was talking about the feelings she had for you, in a way? But Wednesday continued before you could say anything.
"I don't understand what this is," she said, her voice still low. "I don't understand these feelings. I don't know what to do with them. I don't know how to handle them."
You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to Wednesday open up to you.
You had never seen Wednesday like this before, struggling with her emotions, unsure of what to do for once. It was clear that she had been internalising these feelings for a long time, and now, they were all coming out in a rush.
"It's okay," you tell her softly, reaching out to take her hand. "It's okay to be confused. It's okay to not understand what you're feeling."
Wednesday looked at you, her expression still blank, as if she couldn't quite believe what you were saying. She didn’t understand it after all.
You felt a twinge of sadness at Wednesday's reaction, but you didn't let it show. So you continue to hold Wednesday's hand, hoping to offer her some comfort and support.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask, voice gentle.
Wednesday hesitated, and then finally, she nodded, taking a deep breath. "I don't know what's happening," she said, her voice now full on trembling. "I don't know why I feel like this."
You feel your heart ache, seeing the turmoil and confusion on Wednesday's face. You didn’t know how to explain it to her, how to tell her that these emotions were normal and why she was feeling them, this was perhaps a parents job. You didn't have all the answers, but you knew that you could be there for Wednesday, could offer her a listening ear and a supportive shoulder to lean on.
"It's okay," you say again, voice still soft. "It's okay to feel things that you don't understand. It's okay to be confused."
Wednesday let out a deep sigh, and you could see the tension leave her body just a little bit. She was still confused, still struggling to make sense of her feelings, but at least now she knew that she had someone in her corner, someone who cared about her and was willing to be there for her, no matter what.
You knew that this was a turning point in your relationship, that this was a moment that you’d both remember for a long time to come. As you sit there, holding Wednesday's hand, you couldn’t help but smile up at her. Fangs slightly bearing as you rub your thumb gently over her palm.
And then, without warning, Wednesday leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, the kiss soft and gentle. It was a moment that you always had been hoping for, but never quite expecting, as Wednesday had never initiated a kiss before, leaving you to do all the work for her.
You felt a thrill of excitement and wonder wash over you as your lips met, your lips pressed together in a moment of rare and private affection. It was a moment that you would never forget, a moment that would forever be etched in your memory.
As the kiss came to an end you broke away, your heart racing and your mind reeling with the emotions of the moment. You looked up at Wednesday, your eyes bright with gratitude and love.
Wednesday let out a small sigh as you pulled her into bed, a small hint of annoyance lingering on her face. As you laid her down, her crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from you, acting as if she didn't want to be there.
"You should really get some sleep," you say softly, putting an arm over the smaller girls stomach that sends spiders crawling all through out her stomach.
Wednesday let out another small sigh, but this time it sounded less annoyed and more resigned. She tilted her head to the side, leaning into your embrace.
"Fine," Wednesday said, her voice softer than usual. "But I'm still not happy about it."
You chuckled softly. “When are you ever?” You tease only to earn a glare that disappeared quickly as rubbing your macabre girlfriends stomach in a gentle motion. "You don't have to be happy. Just get some rest."
Wednesday closed her eyes, sinking further into your embrace. After a few moments, she took a deep her body relaxing into the bed. You knew there was more than she was letting on but that could wait until the morning, you were just glad she opened up just a little.
A/N: please tell me if you see any mistakes or things that should be worked on!
Tagslist: @raven-ss @devarajah @natashasapphic @pamoresworld @canyonyodeler @paladinncleric @2silverchain
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roseharpermaxwell · 3 months
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RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs - Part Three
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I'm back with more! Dive into some recently-read AUs with me below.
pixel perfect by rizcriz. G, 1k. Alex is looking over the directions with barely contained glee, and Henry—Henry’s looking at Alex. He’s pushed into the wall of the Photo Booth when Alex suddenly leans forward and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket.
“We are so doing this,” Alex says excitedly.
The corner of Henry’s mouth twitches. “Oh?” He asks, watching Alex pull a ten dollar bill from his wallet. “And here I thought you’d only pulled us in here to make out a bit.”
Or, Alex and Henry are in love in a photo booth.
Total Eclipse by @myheartalivewrites. T, 1.2k. Alex is not sure what the fuck is happening here.
“And if you only hold me tight…”
A man—probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen—is up on stage in this karaoke bar, absolutely murdering Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and he’s pretty sure the guy is crying and it’s one of the most horrifying things he’s ever seen and Alex cannot. Look. Away.
all we are is skin and bones by @indestructibleheart. T, 1.3k. Alex didn't plan to push Henry Fox into oncoming traffic.
it might be worth it for once by blueberriesandcream. G, 1.6k. quick little alternate scene. what if alex's protective streak had made an appearance when zahra found he and henry in their hotel room?
We've Got To Stop Meeting Like This by @everwitch-magiks. M, 1.9k. Alex books an Airbnb studio with a shared bathroom. The other studio is occupied by a man with lush pink lips and impressive personal hygiene — really, he’s super diligent about lathering and rinsing. Alex would know, seeing as the lock to the bathroom is seriously unreliable.
Or: the Airbnb romp you didn’t know you needed.
exclusive member deal by stutteringpeach. T, 2k.
Alex: "Let me take you on a date."
The date: Costco.
beyond measure by T, 2.1k. alex and henry host nora, june and pez for weekly fellow travelers watch parties.
tonight, they're watching the series finale. it comes crashing down on henry, and alex is there to catch him.
Couture of the Juicy Variety by ronans. G, 2.1k. It's Henry's birthday and his work crush has what some may call a wardrobe malfunction.
Adrift by TuppingLiberty. T, 2.2k. Alex works in the Texas Department of Justice as a research attorney. He's been low-key flirting with his downstairs neighbor Henry for the past few months. Unfortunately, he works himself sick and ends up at Henry's doorstep accidentally.
you all over me by @dumbpeachjuice. E, 2.3k. When Henry organises an evening of group sex, he never expects to meet a gorgeous man he wants to marry and have children with.
Or, a meet-cute at a sex club.
something more, something right by rizcriz. T, 2.7k. Alex blinks at him, seemingly entirely unimpressed. “So, you’re just going to pretend we’re not in love with each other?” 
Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me. by barthelme. E, 2.8k. Around them, there is the rustle of trees and the crisp whip of wind against nylon. An owl hooting. Faint whispers of campers still lingering around the dying campfire that Henry would like to block out entirely because, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I’m aware,” Alex says, but his mouth clearly says he doesn’t care.
Or, the one where Alex and Henry are camp counselors who lead overnight hikes and fuck around at night.
please report to HR by @smc-27. G, 3.2k. Alex frowns at his inbox.
The only reason he knows Henry’s name is that people keep calling him “hot HR Henry” as if there’s anyone else in this office named Henry. Alex hasn’t met the guy yet. He’s been avoiding it mostly out of pettiness.
Henry and the Charisma Vortex by ronans. NR, 3.7k. ‘How’s about I take you to a bookstore and treat you to a trashy romance novel to say sorry for interrupting your first date with the love of your life?’
‘I fear the longer I spend time with you, the longer I will be unable to live this spectacular failure down.’
He warms at the thought of spending more time with Henry. ‘Solid deduction, you are absolutely right.’ He takes a punt and grabs Henry’s free hand. ‘C’mon.’
Or, Alex is sat next to a tragic date and has the urge to intervene.
Cloudy With a Chance of Fuckery by ronans. M, 3.9k. ‘Henry’s here with us for the weather.’ He pivots in his seat and grins over to the other corner of the studio. ‘Now, is it hot in here, or is it just you?’
Without missing a beat, Henry smiles cordially and gestures to the green screen behind him. ‘We’re actually in the middle of a cold snap.’
Or, an ode to Alex fucking with Henry live on air.
A Sin Better Than Heaven by @anchoredarchangel. E, 3.9k.
“Show me,” the king says, a demand. He sets the vial back down, careless to where it lands compared to where it originated. He leans back against the table, crosses his arms over his chest; chin raised, jaw set- a picture of regality. Henry’s heart is pounding in his chest, the unstable beat of too many horse hooves overlapping, like the canter through the woods that very afternoon before he was shoved from his saddle. For the first time, he considers the possibility that perhaps he had hit his head harder than he realized- against the ground or against the tree, because certainly his hope is misplaced; certainly he is not following this conversation as well as he presumed. “Show you what, Your Majesty?” The king only deigns to move a hand, untucking it from his elbow in order to wave it vaguely. “How your body responds to men.”
Or: A criminally loose reimagining of the tent scene from Mary & George, only Alex is a sexually confused king, and Henry's the one who has been sent to seduce him.
Don’t You Dare Look Away by @emmalostinwonderland. E, 3.9k. “Jesus, Fox, if you wanna fuck me so goddamn bad, you could just say so.”
Alex fully expects to be dropped to the floor, but Henry just tightens his grip on Alex’s waist. “You… you’re not serious.”
And really, what could go wrong? “Serious as a heart attack, baby.”
// Alex and Henry are paired up for a pro dance on DWTS one week, but they just can’t seem to get along… until something clicks.
a feeling like this (could it be bliss?) by rizcriz. E, 4k. There’s a blonde woman plastered to Alex’s front. Ten minutes ago, he’d been grinding up against a brunette man half a foot shorter than him. Ten minutes before that, he’d been laughing with a red head at the bar. And ten minutes before that?
Ten minutes before that, he’d had that megawatt smile directed at Henry, laughing at something June said. And then he’d wandered off to get them more drinks, and now he’s off, giving his attention to people who are, quite frankly, not good enough for him, and Henry? Henry’s — christ, okay, Henry’s jealous.
Henry’s fucking fuming.
Or, Henry wants his boyfriend back.
Another Door Opens by @14carrotghoul. T, 4.1k. Henry takes a long drink. “If it makes you feel any better, my dad's dead. He and my mum had the type of love straight from the storybooks and it got cut tragically short, so what is the point in finding something real if it's just going to hurt you?”
Alex bites back a smile and shakes his head. “How in the fuck was that supposed to make me feel better?”
He waves his hand awkwardly. “Oh, I just thought we were both sharing the trauma that impacted our romantic relationships.”
Henry and Alex first meet when Henry reveals their partners are cheating on them with each other.
north star by sharkfins. T, 4.9k. “God, you know, I could stare at you all day,” he says finally. “I want to get this tattooed on the inside of my eyelids.”
“Ugh, gross,” Henry says while scrunching up his nose. Even still, his cheeks flush.
“Seriously, Hen, you look pretty.” Alex runs his fingers through Henry’s hair and places another kiss on his forehead.
Henry bites back a slightly embarrassing excited noise and shoves his face into Alex’s neck and smiles into his skin. Hen. Alex calls him that all the time, but for some reason now it’s making something stir inside his chest.
“I can’t believe I get to call you mine,” he adds, running his hand down the back of Henry’s head and settles his arm around his shoulders again.
Henry moves impossibly closer to him and looks up to meet his eyes. “Pretty, huh?”
“Absolutely gorgeous.”
or: Henry experiments with gender &lt;3
Best Practice in Sexual Favours by everwitch. E, 5.1k. They meet at a bar. Alex is young; fresh out of law school, sharp and charismatic and oh-so attractive. The sex is absolutely incredible, and Henry has no regrets. At least not until the morning after when he finds himself opposite Alex in a meeting — equipped with the painful knowledge that Alex’s boss thinks Alex’s only function in said meeting is to sit there and look all pretty. Somebody ought to call HR right about now.
Or: when sexual relationships mix with professional ones, Alex and Henry make the most of it.
We met in the Park by TuppingLiberty. E, 5.3k. Henry is absolutely obsessed with the runner he sees in the park every day at lunch.
cause you're classic, and i'm reckless by @firenati0n. T, 5.4k. “I've, actually, uh. I've never done this before.”
At this, Henry stops short, takes a second as his gaze moves up and to the left, trying to recall something. “I've seen your films. You most certainly have done intimate scenes.”
Alex clears his throat. He hopes his nerves aren't completely obvious, the slight waver in his voice about to give him away. “Yeah, well. Never with a man, so. Not at this scale, anyway.”
“Would it help to, er, practice?" Henry winces a little as he says it, which does not inspire confidence. But Alex is shocked nonetheless. What the fuck?
Diving In Dick-First by quill_and_ink. E, 5.5k. "So... we're doing an intimate piercing today?"
Alex promptly crawls under a rock to die.
Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) by @cha-melodius. E, 5.6k. Unfortunately for him, the only things more beautiful than Alex himself are Alex’s cakes. He’s the most in-demand cake artist in the city, and as such he books a lot of weddings. Many of the very same weddings that simply must also have Fox Florals arrangements for their centrepieces. Weddings like, apparently, this one.
(Or, Henry the florist and Alex the cake artist are forced to collaborate last minute at a wedding job, make a mess, and learn some things about each other in the process.)
A thousand dreams that would awake me by @kiwiana-writes. E, 5.9k.
“It’s not about punishment.” Alex just nods; Henry had been very clear on the form that he wasn’t looking to be dominated or put in his place, so that won’t be new information. “And it’s not the pain as such.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the mug. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like to feel it, but I’m not looking for pain for the sake of pain. It’s more about… control, I think.” There’s a long silence. “Taking it?” Alex prompts finally. “Or giving it up?” “Does it sound ridiculous if I say both?”
Or, Henry visits a sex club to get spanked the way he's craving.
Want Me by @orchidscript. E, 6.1k. Henry had always been weak for a nice smile, but his was impossible to ignore.
Blame it on summer heat and a fresh flush in his cheeks. Blame it on sunset painting the outdoor bar sweltering, romantic colors. Blame it on two healthy glasses of albariño thrumming in his bloodstream, or the good music floating on the air.
Henry could blame it on anything liked if he thought long and hard about it, but that didn’t change much at the end. The core remained the same: he had been gone from the jump.
Henry and Alex hook up on a vacation in Spain. Henry falls a bit deeper.
i think about jumping (just to see you come running) by @coffeecatsme. T, 6.1k. Henry Fox likes to think he’s led a good life.
He’s been a good son to his parents, though his grandmother would probably disagree with him being a good grandson—although, if he’s honest with himself, he’d rather take that as a compliment. He’s used the family money for good, built a life for himself. He’s saved the sweetest beagle from a shelter and paid an arm and a leg bringing him to the States from England. He doesn’t think killing a few mosquitos in his lifetime and the select words he had for the homophobic part of his family should curse him for years of torture.
Alas, that’s the only explanation as to why the public library he’s worked for for years would move him to a branch right next to a goddamn fire station.
Or, 5 times Henry embarrasses himself in front of Alex and 1 time Alex embarrasses himself in front of Henry.
Five letter word for 'unobservant' by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.9k. And podfic by @thirdeye1234. “He's so annoying,” Alex says, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them as he sits down at his desk opposite Nora. Nora – colleague, semi-sister-in-law, and unfortunately his best friend – is used to this by now, and continues eating a croissant over her keyboard in the manner of someone who has the only ergonomic, crumb-resistant keyboard in the office, and wants everyone to know it.
“Please,” she says, not even looking at him as she presumably whizzes through accounts or something, mouth full of buttery pastry. “Elucidate. I have no idea who you're talking about and there is no precedent for you interrupting my morning with those words at all.”
Alex scowls at her. “Wordle Guy.”
in this home series by riversdeep. T, 7.5k. At that, Alex looks him straight in the eye. “I'm sorry I fell in love with you years ago and never said a single thing about it.”
A self indulgent childhood best friends to lovers AU, exploring the transition from best friends to boyfriends
me and you and awkward silence by @kill8a. M, 7.5k. Alex has a bit of a predicament. The new librarian, Henry Fox, has proved to be a little too attractive to go un-noticed, and he might be harboring a bit of a crush.
make it five by @anincompletelist. M, 8k. “Fifty bucks says I can get that guy’s number.”
Popping the bubble of cinnamon-flavored gum Alex had just blown, he glances up from his phone to look at where Nora’s pointing. Just over the soles of his shoes, crossed at the ankles and propped on the flaking black wood of the shop’s front desk, there’s a man with broad shoulders lingering by the far wall. Alex hadn’t even heard the guy come in.
“Nora. He’s literally looking at one of the biggest dildos I’ve ever seen,” he deadpans quietly.
alex works at a sex toy shop. it's usually a pretty easy job — if he could just stop daydreaming about the blonde guy that keeps coming in to buy literally all of alex's favorite sex toys.
pour some sugar on me by @sunnysideprince. M, 8.2k. Alex makes not-so-safe-for-work baking videos on Instagram for a living, and Henry, unsurprisingly, goes through a crisis because of it.
An Amateur’s Guide to Professional Gift-Giving by anincompletelist (soldouthaz). T, 8.9k. Alex, a former-law-student-taking-some-time-off turned professional part-time gift giver, is tasked with finding a gift for the most high profile client he's ever worked with, both in and out of the world of law.
It turns out finding the perfect gift for the Prince of Wales might be easier than he'd anticipated.
secret admirer by rizcriz. T, 9.5k. Today, though, he’s watching in delight as a massive bouquet of roses makes its way through the office, the delivery guy carefully weaving between cubicles as he heads for Nora’s desk. Last week, Nora had revealed to the office one of his embarrassing college hook up stories that involved a thong and sitting cold and shivering in a police station while he waited to be picked up. Today—today he’s sicking Nadine and Alberta on Nora as payback.
His gaze flicks over to Nora where she’s sitting at her desk oblivious to her incoming doom, and then back to the delivery guy. Anticipation, hot and excited, bundles up in Alex’s gut as he clears the final turn of cubicles, and just as Alex is about to grin, wicked and delighted at Nora, the delivery guy makes another turns and comes to a stop at the completely wrong desk.
And then he sets the flowers down and leaves.
or, an accidental flower delivery.
my little dove by dearestalez. M, 9.8k.
“Kinda cliché,” Alex says, looking up at the mural.
“It’s Bea’s favourite piece,” Henry says.
Alex looks at him, “that makes sense.”
They travel through a plethora of shops. Henry picks up a hat, Alex holds a jumper to his chest and twirls until Henry is giggling into his fingers.
“Why do they never have my size?” Alex laments, holding a nice pair of shoes that don’t come in seven and a half. Only seven or eight. Henry doesn’t mean to laugh, he didn’t really think that was something he did. Laugh at people’s expense. But he isn’t doing that. Alex is pouting over a pair of shoes, with wide brown eyes and slumped shoulders, and Henry is laughing at the absurdity of it all.
He never thought that the man across the building cradling a beer to his chest was the type to pout and whine when a shop didn’t carry his size. He never thought he’d find that out. He never thought that stranger from that bar would turn into someone he knows.
“You’re a dick,” Alex says, but he’s grinning and Henry is weak.
i want to mark my skin (it is paper thin) by @violetbaudelaire-quagmire. M, 10k.
Subj: Tattoo Reference
Attached: 1 file (orionsketch.jpg)
Hello,
Attached you’ll find a line art drawing of the constellation Orion. The shoulder blade is the intended location.
Best,
H.J. Fox
OR: It's a Tattoo Shop AU!
i dream of our odyssey by violetbaudelairequagmire. E, 10k. Alex rests his elbows on the counter of the small cafe attached to Bankston’s Books, enjoying the quiet period in between the morning stay-at-home-mom-crying-toddler storytime crowd and the rush of college students that appear in the afternoon. It’s only a couple hours, but it’s nice to have that time with just a few black coffees in between the rush of “pumpkin spice latte and a cakepop” and “quad shot espressos and keep them coming” that dominate the busy periods at the bookstore. He’s not complaining though- he loves this job. He gets a discount on books, no one cares how much coffee he drinks in a shift, and, in the last couple of weeks, he’s had a great view of the new guy quietly shelving books.
A Tapestry of Intimacy Unfolded by hqwhna. M, 10k. It's a case of textbook serendipity when Senator Alex Claremont-Diaz and Dr. Henry Fox first meet at a fundraiser in D.C. Now, Alex just has to think of an excuse to see him again...
no drug like me by stutteringpeach. E, 10k. “I’d like to pay for your schooling,” Henry says casually. “Move you into a better apartment. You’ll get an allowance, of course, but that will be for you to do with what you will. Your expenses will be covered outside of that.”
Alex blinks. He’s drunk off expensive wine and Henry’s attention. His brain isn’t functioning. “What?”
Henry’s expression hasn’t changed. “Do you need me to repeat myself?”
XOXO Gossip Girl by alyaasca. T, 11k. Diazes love gossiping. And Henry, well, he wants to be a part of Alex's family. Thanks to his therapist, he has a number of breathing exercises up his sleeve, and also a dream. Watch him take his rightful place by learning the art of family gossip.
i don't know how not to by smc_27. M, 11k. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he tells Martha in their next meeting, which takes place two hours outside of London at her parents’ ‘cottage’. To think they talk of her family as commoners when they have this much money is fucking insane. It just goes to illustrate how out of touch the whole monarchy machine is.
“Tea?” she offers, and he nods just to be polite. A literal, honest to god butler comes over to pour for him. “Carry on.”
“You’re gonna disappear,” he tells her, and her whole face lights up. Her shoulders relax. She looks straight at him. He can hear the kids playing with their grandmother in the next room.
“Tell me more.”
Or, Alex is Martha's divorce attorney
cut by @havanasroses. E, 12k.
Holy fucking eyelashes. He’s all tan skin and bright eyes and charming smile— everything that makes Henry weak in the knees. Pretty brown eyes dart between the lineup and his clipboard, trying to put two and two together, but all Henry can focus on are those arms. Those hands. That arse. “Can I call you up, handsome?” Henry almost blacks out.
or, the five times alex and henry shoot a video together as (not so) strangers, and the one time they do as a couple.
into temptation by stutteringpeach. E, 13k. When Henry wakes, there’s an ache in his arse and a wet patch on the sheets.
He tries to imagine how it happened. Whether he was on his side or his front already, whether he had to be rolled over. Whether they took their time or couldn’t wait, so turned on by the sight of him lying there.
It shouldn’t turn him on this much—the not knowing. But that was the point.
You've Been My Muse for a Long Time by @affectionatelyrs. E, 13k. There aren’t many instances in which Henry would claim he exhibits a colorful vocabulary. In fact, he could likely list them on one hand: when wretched people say the most bigoted things, when the local grocer has run out of their Jaffa Cake stock in the minuscule international aisle, when he gets bored and resorts to writing homoerotic poetry in his moleskin journal with a fountain pen like some lovelorn literary scholar from the eighteenth century.
And now, when he’s assigned to a gig he doesn’t want to be at. As in, he would rather publish said poetry to the unrelenting, merciless masses of the internet than be at this gig.
“You must be bloody fucking kidding me.”
Or, When Rolling Stone names Alex Claremont-Diaz as the number one rising star to look out for, Henry is tasked with the sole responsibility of photographing him for their cover shot. Which, truly, wouldn’t be an issue—it’s an incredible opportunity—except Henry doesn’t trust that miscreant to be within ten feet of him ever since The Incident™
Star-Crossed by schmulte. T, 17k. Alex is a principal ballerino with a hatred for Henry Fox. What happens when they're paired up and forced to dance together as star-crossed lovers? Will their partnership crash and burn, or will they cross uncharted territory and make ballet history?
Not An Act by quill_and_ink. E, 20k. It was bound to happen at some point. Alex and Henry had both started modeling within three months of each other and they'd both become known for dramatic, high fashion shoots, editorials, and runways, so it had just been a matter of time before they would be hired to work together. He could have handled it if they'd just been on the same set at the same time without actually having to shoot together, but no - the premise of the campaign is sensuality, intimacy. He has to pretend to be in love with Henry.
getting good now by Standinginmoonlight. M, 20k. Alex sighs and balls his hands up into fists, digging them into his eye sockets until he sees stars, and then he’s speaking without his brain giving his mouth permission.
“I can’t believe I’m going to marry someone British.”
Or: the Love is Blind AU that no-one asked for.
we should get married by smc_27. E, 25k. He’d spent most of the week sitting on the floor with his laptop open on the table, typing away about absolute nonsense in between sessions and phone calls with immigration and a lawyer trying to see if it’s possible there’s any way in the world he can stay in America while this gets sorted. The good news is this doesn’t bar him from trying again and just returning when it all gets sorted. Not that that will be easy, but still. It’s a possibility.
He makes the absolutely foolish mistake, after pouring his second drink, of googling ‘marriage visa’ as if that will be the answer to any or all of his problems. Allows himself a brief, excruciating moment to imagine he has someone to marry and make that a reality.
But then…he does, does he not?
OR, a greencard marriage AU
Clean Slate by smc_27. E, 25k. “Henry.” Pez comes over, puts both hands on Henry’s cheeks and looks him dead in the eye. “You are not a sad man who’s gotten dumped. You’re in the prime of your life, and I quite desperately need you to act like it.”
“The prime of my life,” Henry scoffs, more incredulous than questioning. “I’ve just gotten out of a 15 year relationship, endured a divorce, am suffering an almost impressive case of writer’s block, and your hands are like bloody icicles.” Pez grins, doesn’t take his hands away. “Explain to me how this is my prime. Please.”
Pez tilts his head, and sounds entirely serious when he says, “Literally anything can happen from here.”
In Accord by @absoluteaudacitywrites. E, 27k. Pursuant to the establishment of an ongoing relationship between The Crown and the Office of the President of the United States, the representatives of the The Queen and Her interests are authorised to establish a contract of marriage between His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales and Alexander Claremont-Diaz.
Claremont 2008 by @happinessofthepursuit. M, 28k. What if Ellen Claremont had gotten elected in 2008 instead of Obama? An alternate timeline story of FirstPrince.
2009 at Buckingham Palace for tea. A sleepover after a quinceañera in 2010. The 2012 London Olympics. A 2014 Model UN Conference. A funeral in 2015. College and another campaign trail.
And the texts, facetimes, and chain emails in between.
By All Means, Rome by @iboatedhere. T, 29k. During a goodwill tour of Europe, Prince Henry rebels against his tedious schedule and disappears into the heart of Rome, seeking reprieve from a life of relentless royal obligations...
Alex Claremont-Diaz, an American journalist living in Rome with a British Monarchy-sized chip on his shoulder, stumbles upon a young man…
Each man keeps a secret to benefit themselves, not thinking how it would affect the other until love gets in the way.
seven fallen angels in atonemеnt by riversdeep. E, 31k. Bea takes the diary from him and snaps it shut. "Well, love, that's because I'm meeting Alex. We'll be at the studio in an hour, so if you're coming with, you should probably wear some nicer trousers."
Henry looks down at his shorts. He thinks they belonged to Pez at one point since they have the words juicy written over the arse in fancy script. "That," He says, "Is completely beside the point."
She shrugs, "Alright. If you want to see the man you've crushed on for two years in those shorts, be my guest."
Well. That only covers part of the problem. The part where Alex infuriates him, that he has to put in an unreasonable amount of effort not to drop things around him because of how beautiful he is. That he is, admittedly, a little bit in love with him.
Or, Alex is a singer collaborating with Bea and Henry is dragged along for the ride, much to his reluctant delight.
would you be my love, my love? (would you be mine?) by ohprongs. M, 32k. When Henry Fox’s fourth series as a professional dancer on BBC’s Strictly Come Dancing rolls around, he’s got a good feeling. He knows what he’s doing — he’s a two-time semi-finalist — and this year he wants to win. That is, until he’s knocked off-kilter by two revelations: they’re allowing same gender contestant/pro pairings for the first time in the show’s history, and Alex Claremont-Díaz is joining as the newest pro dancer.
He is, to put it mildly, absolutely screwed.
(aka, the pro dancers rivals-to-friends-to-lovers au that no one asked for)
Baby (Let Me Put On a Show) by SatinBirds. E, 37k. It’s been five months, and still Alex is never completely prepared for Henry’s performances. Private or otherwise.
Or,
Henry is a night dancer, and he’s everything Alex wants.
Platinum Record series by @cricketnationrise. E, 39k. Email: [email protected]
Channel Name: AustinBoy
Age Restricted?: 18+
Chat enabled?: Yes
Subscriptions: Monthly
Tiers: 2
Tier 1:
> Name: Standard
> Description: Access to chat room, 1 weekly video
Tier 2:
> Name: Bonus
> Description: Access to chat room, 1 weekly video, 1 weekly livestream
Or, a Camboy!Alex AU 
A Cloud on Fire Makes its Own Rain by foux_dogue. M, 40k. Henry ends his relationship with Alex in Texas at twenty-one years old.
At forty, Alex's heartbreak is just another relic from the past that he left behind. He's made a name for himself, steadily dismantling the system that never truly welcomed him from the foxhole of a critically-acclaimed late night news show. He's not living his happily-ever-after, maybe, but he's doing work that matters, and he's content with what he's got.
At forty-one, Henry finally decides to abdicate. There's only one person who he trusts to break the story.
February, I'm In Love by IBoatedHere. E, 40k. February themed FirstPrince Prompts
(you got me) cursing the daylight by @waterloolovers. E, 40k.
But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms
And if you like having secret little rendezvous
If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do
Then baby, I'm perfect
Baby, I'm perfect for you
“ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ TAKES ON EUROPE!
America’s darling, ACD, is setting off on his first international tour of Europe and The UK next month. His first stop is in London at the sold out O2 arena.”
Alex is a singer. Henry is a podcast host. They should know that secret relationships don’t usually pan out, but they’re willing to give it a try.
What could possibly go wrong?
(Strangers to friends to besties to lovers)
It's Nice to Have a Friend by mainstreamelectricalparade. T, 59k. Two boys meet on a beach, build a sand castle, write letters, and fall in love.
Someday We'll Know If Love Can Move a Mountain by @three-drink-amy. E, 60k. The emails were never leaked, but the Queen has forced Alex and Henry apart. Alex believes they're biding their time until they can be together for real. One day at work, he's forced to confront how wrong he is when Henry's engagement is announced. With both of them miserable and neither wanting the wedding to happen, they grapple with how or if they could even stop it. Or even if they should.
False Dichotomy by chamel. E, 61k. One of the world’s largest retailers is opening a store on his street. A bookstore. He looks down at the article in his hand again and catches sight of a phrase: “We hope that people will see this as more than a bookstore, and hope to foster a sense of community.” As if Henry Fox-Mountchristen has any concept of what community means.
Alex very narrowly does not break something.
(When global mega-retailer Mountchristen opens a new location—led by the infuriatingly attractive and insufferable Henry Fox-Mountchristen—near his LGBTQ-focused bookshop in Soho, Alex's comfortable life is turned upsided down. Luckily, he has one of his best friends to turn to: a guy he met online and knows only as H. Meanwhile, Henry is battling against his family to make a positive difference in the world and falling further in love with a man he's never met. But... what if they changed that?
(make me) misbehave by @onward--upward. E, 65k. Alex Claremont-Diaz has done it again. The Texas-born singer-songwriter released his fourth studio album second skin Thursday at midnight. Full of Claremont-Diaz’s signature lyricism, critics are praising the album for the cohesive image it paints. second skin is the result of a young writer at the top of his game, and every lyric depicts for the listener a picture of a sun-drenched secret romance. Fans are clamoring to be the first to uncover the mystery girl at the center of it all, although Claremont-Diaz remains tight-lipped on the subject…
Or: Alex Claremont-Diaz is a singer-songwriter rising up in the music industry. Henry Fox is the shining star of an acting empire.
This is a love story.
All our Sweetest Hours Fly Fastest by @ahistoricdistraction. T, 69k. It has been three years since they were outted and Henry and Alex have finally settled into a groove that works well for them, except for the fact that it feels like they're always having to steal time together. Queen Mary constantly coming up with excuses to get Henry out of public events with Alex isn't helping, and Alex is done with it. After a long conference in Tokyo that Henry couldn't attend, Alex's flight home being delayed is the last straw and he calls Henry to say they need to figure out a better way to do this, to which Henry agrees. But fate has other ideas. Alex's flight goes missing somewhere over the Pacific, no trace of it to be found, leaving Henry and Alex's family struggling to not lose hope while unable to do anything.
Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by allmylovesatonce. E, 76k. Alex Claremont-Diaz is relocating back to Austin to join his dad's firehouse. His days as a firefighter in Washington D.C. ended badly, but no one knows that, or knows why. And he plans to keep that close to his chest. He has to shove it back down if he wants to seem like a normal person, if he wants to do the job, if he wants to get along with his new crew, and most of all, if he wants to get to know the hot British firefighter on the squad.
No one can know what really happened.
It takes a lot to know a man by dazedandconfused. E, 86k. Alex is doing good. Life is good. Work is good. There's just one tiny problem. He can't get out of his head enough to enjoy sex. Nora has a solution in the form of a not-quite-sex-club called Sweet Encounters where he meets Henry, an attentive dom who shows him the joys of BDSM and sex with a man.
Alex gets a new problem when he starts falling for the man, and it turns out Henry might know more about the case Alex is working on than he lets on.
And then it all stacks up from there.
Heavy Weighs the Crown series by @dwell-the-brave. M, 88k. “I’ll be back by Thursday,” Philip promises, giving Martha a hand up the jet’s steps. She gives them a brief wave from the top of the stairs before disappearing.
“Make sure you don’t ski off a cliff!” Bea calls after him as he follows his wife into the jet. He waves a hand dismissively at her and then withdraws into the darkness of the cabin.
That’s the last thing any of them say to him.
Philip dies, and Henry becomes heir.
Something Borrowed, Something Blue by anincompletelist. E, 116k. When June gets engaged, Alex, her brother, and Henry, her best friend, are asked to be the official Guys Of Honor. There’s a month to plan the whole thing, which would be near impossible anyway, only made worse by the fact that being around each other the last several years has only ever led to petty fights and useless competition. Unfortunately, as the two most important men in her life - aside from her fiancé - they don’t really have much of a choice.
Alex has a lot of feelings about this. As it turns out, Henry does too.
Trust Your Heart If The Seas Catch Fire by Light_of_Bane. E, 171k.
Alex had a plan.
And then his life got thrown upside down after finding out President Claremont is his mother.
Now his plan is shot to hell and he's stuck navigating a world he never expected to be in - one of privilege and the spotlight and a family that's far cry from the abusive one he had grown up with. How's he supposed to do this?
And why is Prince Henry so much prettier in person?
This was not the plan.
I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!
RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs Part One
RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs Part Two
Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs
Master List of Recommendations
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darkbluekies · 1 year
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Family life with the yandere OC's
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A/N: a few of you have asked about having kids with the yanderes or already having kids when meeting them etc, so I figured I'll give my view on how they'd handle a family with you :)
Warnings: drugging, neglect, isolation, guns, threatening of beating up fifth graders,
Silas:
Things will change once you have kids. Oh, they’ll really change. For the better? Of course not. He’ll grow even more protective and possessive over you and your children. I can see him with three daughters of different ages. He’ll move from his two story house to a bigger one out in the countryside so you and your child can grow up far away from the city’s polluting atmosphere. He wants to be able to ‘taint’ his children himself, no one else. After all … if your kids start to talk about your home life at school … maybe someone will try to take them and you away from him.
As a father, Silas will be the ultimate deal. He'll be loving, playful and protective. He will give your daughters whatever they desire. All he wants is to see them happy. They will go to school under fake names to make sure that none of his enemies can find them. You better get ready for hell if someone (even from school) dares to hurt your daughters because Silas will do everything in his power to get rid of the ones that have the nerve.
"Daddy's home! Hi, my beautiful girls, i've missed you so, so much! Have you been good girls while daddy's been gone? Wonderful. Where's Y/N? Upstairs? Thank you. I have to go hug them too."
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Dr Kry:
Once you find out that you'll have twin girls, Dr Kry is quick to turn off the poisoned air purifier. He can't risk that anything happens to you or your kids. He'll move you from the hospital to his house in the woods. He wants his kids to grow up near nature, to care about the earth and its inhabitants. It's a perfect place too, there's no one around.
As a father, Dr Kry is strict and a bit harsh. He wants both his daughters to succeed and not be compared to one another. He will read for the family in front of your fireplace in the evenings and teach your kids things about the world. As much as he'd like to homeschool your twins, he can't do everything at the same time. He'll let them go to a private school that shares his beliefs and tutor them a bit on the side. He will support your kids in any way they need to affirm that they'll succeed in life.
He won't keep them sick, like he does with you … unless they figure out what he's done to you. He's done his best to indoctrinate your twins, but if his smart genes have passed on to them … then he'll have no other choice.
"Sweetpea, don't look at me like that. I have to do that! They know about what happened at the hospital. They know everything. They're smarter than I thought. Of course I love them! That's why I'm doing this! They're safe this way. If I can't create a world for them, then they'll have to stay home. They have each other, Y/N, they're okay. I will do anything to protect my family."
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King Edmund:
He’ll be joyful. Maybe not too much about having a kid … but because that part is over now. He won’t have to worry about not getting an heir. The castle will get more guards now that there’s a baby coming. Every corner will be baby proofed and every staircase will be watched. Every window will be locked and every door blocked off. You’ll have maids surrounding you everytime Edmund’s not close. He won’t risk a. single. damn. thing.
As a father, Edmund’s absent and strict. He expects his son to be a worthy heir and continue his legacy. If he doesn't, he'll be more than disappointed. He'll watch you play with him from afar with a smile on his face. Deep inside he really loves the child, but there's so much more on his shoulders than just raising a kid. He has to teach him so, so much. He can't be a failure.
He'll teach his son to protect you when he's gone. And your son will do everything to impress his father. If you thought that Edmund was suffocating, you haven't seen his offspring.
"Why that look, my dear? Our son wasn't letting you leave the room? He threatened a guard? Oh my … sounds like it's my kid afterall. I'm proud of him. Now I know you'll be in good hands when I'm gone."
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Jerry:
To be honest, Jerry doesn't want kids, but if she had one, it'd be a daughter. She knows she'll mess them up, she won't be a good mother. She's terrified of giving birth and hates toddlers. It'd be better if you already had a daughter / sister before Jerry laid her eyes on you. Wherever the child comes from, Jerry will take care of it her way. She'll teach her to protect herself and to fight. You'll notice that Jerry will be softer with her and do whatever the little girl wants. Bake a cake? Go shopping? Beat up some fifth graders? Jerry will bring her baseball bat.
Jerry will be more of a big sister / aunt, then a mother. She will move with you and the little girl to a new house to give all of you some more space. She will have her men watching the house at all times. You want to leave her, knowing that she's not good for the little girl, but the little girl seems so happy. She really thinks that Jerry is cool. Jerry will never let the two of you leave, she's never been this happy.
"Hi, baby boy/girl, how's it going? You're mad because you can't leave the house? Well, duh, it's for your safety. By the way, I brought our little girl to the shooting range. She needs to learn how to use a gun. What? No, I'm not making her into a mini-me! I'm creating a strong woman, like me. There's a difference. Now come over here with your cute, little body."
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Hedwig:
Hedwig will live a traditional rich home life. Two kids, a boy and a girl, nannies, maids, chefs, everything. The four of you will have moved to another house that her family owns. The kids will go to expensive private schools and get taught by the best of the best. Hedwig will spoil them, just like she was. You'll not get to have a job and will stay home with Hedwig. She wants you to 'go full on out on your hobbies'. The only time you're allowed outside is when Hedwig’s with you. Never alone, especially never alone with the kids. You could run away with them.
As a mother, Hedwig will be present and understanding. She will stay home for the most time and will always be available. She has assistants for a reason. She'll listen to all of your kids' problems and stand up for them, even if they're at fault. Her kids can't do anything wrong. If they act spoiled and ungrateful, however … she will cut off all allowance until they understand how lucky they are. You'll do a lot of trips and go on a lot of vacations. Your kids will have a lot of freedom, but you will be wrapped around Hedwig’s expensive finger.
"Ah, they got in trouble in school again. I have to go get them. Some kid accused our son of throwing a ball in their face. I don't think our little boy could ever do that. No, sweetheart, please stay at home. I will take care of this. You shouldn't lift a finger. I love you, stay here. When i come home we can watch a movie, okay? Perfect!"
964 notes · View notes
atsumwah · 2 years
Text
about time
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featuring : iwaizumi hajime
includes : you being oikawa's sister, brothers best friend trope, a teeny tiny mention of drinking, and you and makki being besties
notes : i legit put iwa and bo in the wheel name spinning thing bcs i was too indecisive to pick and iwa won three in a row....the universe apparently sided with this hunk 2day ! ignore the mistakes if you find any, i’ll fix em laterzzz :)))
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being oikawa's sister had its perks.
you're instantly popular, you have boys queuing up to get your number, every girl in the school was nice to you ( though they only wanted to get closer to your brother but you didn't care honestly) so really there wasn't anything you can complain about.
except that you have the biggest crush on your brother's best friend.
it's not that he's just hot, like insanely godly hot, he's also really nice. all the years you've known iwaizumi, there wasn't a moment where he wasn't a gentleman to you, despite being together for so long people might mistake you three as siblings.
like when you were five and fell on your knees, he was the one who ran to get the first aid kit (damn your brother he did nothing but laugh, the audacity)
or when you were thirteen when you were scared to walk alone after school without oikawa because he was sick and iwaizumi offered himself up despite having his classes end way earlier than you (and continues to do so when your brother couldn't accompany you)
or when you were 21, drunk off your ass at a bar and having him pick you up, knowing that his campus was literally halfway across town but still came when he heard you sobbing at the other end of the phone.
the little things he does makes your heart flutter, toes curl and mind only filled with thoughts of him. he's the reason why your standards in men are so high and you aren't going to settle less than any of that. you weren't going to settle if it wasn't him.
even so, you're pretty sure he doesn't see you in the same light. again, you've known each other for years, you basically grew up together, so you're pretty sure he only sees you as his best friend annoying little sister (even worse, he's own little sister)
"why does he have to be like that, makki?" you whine, your head lulling to the right to rest on your best friend's shoulder.
"that being?" he teased, taking a sip from his drink as he eyed you from the side.
"you know, irresistibly hot." you gestured to iwaizumi who was working at the counter, "how am i supposed to move on if i see him everyday?"
"that's your own fault. you know he works here."
you did but that's not the point.
"still," you grumbled out, "thought i was being obvious enough. can't he just, i don't know,reject me?"
"honey, you and i both know he's oblivious as hell. i think you need to spell it out for him to get it."
you groaned, hitting your head against the table again.
"hey, what if i set you up with a guy? maybe you'll learn to move on." makki suggested.
it wasn't like the idea of meeting someone new hasn't crossed your mind before. it's just that, well, they're not him.
"did you miss the part where haji's literally perfect and most men aren't?"
"ahem."
"most men besides haji and you aren't."
"better." he said smugly before continuing. "what if i made sure he checks all your boxes, hmm? i know a lot of people."
"i don't know," you bit your lip, "i guess i trust you…"
"that's a dangerous thing to do, you know?"
your head whipped to the sound of his voice coming from behind you.
"i'm literally your best friend, dude."
"not by choice."
a chuckle escaped your lips at his bluntness.
"hey!"
"what are you talking about and why are you trusting makki with it?"
before you could even answer, makki did for you.
"we were talking about setting her up on a date," he said proudly.
"a date, huh?" he eyed you from the side, "thought you had all the boys lining up your feet, princess."
you're so unfair, hajime. 
"they're not that interesting, i guess." you said instead.
"good. keep your standards high. you can't trust men these days."
"you're literally a man."
"i'm different."
"ahem." makki not so subtly coughed again.
"like I said, i'm different—ow— i will literally kick you, makki."
you only smiled, never agreeing more with a statement. he was different, or maybe there was something different about the way you felt for him compared to anyone else. and as much as you wanted something more with him, you're smart enough to realize that that dream was way out of reach.
maybe going on a blind date wouldn't be the worst idea.
***
"i'm so gonna kill you!"
"what'd he do?" makki said on the other line.
"not only did he criticize what i ordered, he even took some of my food and didn't even ask for it! he said and i quote 'a pretty thing like you can't finish this, right?' you know i don't share food!"
"i’m sorry bout that honey. he seemed pretty cool when i talked to him before. he did looked excited when he saw a picture of you."
"ugh men. that's it, i'm just gonna wait for my prince charming to come."
"so no more blind dates?"
"nope." you clicked your tongue as you opened the door to your apartment. "thanks hiro, i did appreciate the thought. i'm gonna call it a night."
"alright, sleep tight honey."
you removed the phone lodged between your shoulder and ear before dropping through keys in the bowl next to the door.
"you're home early."
you let out a gasp at the sudden intruder, your heart calming down when you realize who it was. "my god, how did you come in?"
"you gave me the keys, dumbass." iwaizumi shook the spare keys in front of you, then settled himself on the countertop. "so how was your date?"
"how'd you know it was today?" you took off your coat and immediately went to the refrigerator, taking out a can of—well two cans— of something that would probably make you forget your date.
"makki's not one to keep quiet, you know."
"right. well, it's a lost cause you could say."
"that bad?"
"yup," you downed it down immediately, wincing at the aftertaste. "what're you doing here anyways? it's late."
"had to make sure you got back safe." he said nonchalantly, "your brother would've nagged me if something happened to you."
"i'm a big girl, hajime. i can take care of myself." you said, annoyed, though your beating heart says otherwise. "pretty sure he's dying for me to get someone. he's always saying how i'm repulsing men."
"we both know that's not true, princess," he says.
ugh there it is again. that stupid nickname that makes you weak in the knees for the man in front of you.
"yeah well…" you started, avoiding his eyes as you spoke, "i appreciate you coming to check up on me but i don't need another brother breathing down my back, alright?"
you expect him to shrug it off or to roll his eyes like oikawa would but instead you're confused at his next words.
"do i really give off that impression to you?"
you turned your head towards him. it almost sounded like he was hurt. "what do you mean?"
"nothing." he says almost instantly after that. "nothing, i just— forget i said anything." and with that he goes off to grab his coat hanging by the rack.
but you were curious. because the way he said it seemed like it was out of surprise. like it's the first time he realized that.
"wait," you grabbed his arm before he could go. "tell me what you mean by that?"
was it the booze that made you act this way too? yeah probably.
" 's doesn't matter. forget it, alright?" he makes a move to leave but tug his arm out. you hold on tighter.
"tell me." you say, persistently. "i’m not letting you go until you tell me. i'll jump on your back right now even."
"let go."
"for someone bigger than my brother you sure are a wimp."
"are you trying to provoke me?"
"is it working?" you said before adding, "wimp."
"it's not working."
you pouted. "it always works with tooru."
"that's because he has a huge ego." he let out a yelp when you actually fulfilled your threat by jumping on his back. "hey, get off!"
"not until you tell me!" you locked your legs around him with your arms around his neck to stay determined. "this usually works on tooru too. only it involves a lot more hair pulling." you said triumphantly, before realizing how close your face has gotten to his. apparently he noticed it too judging by how wide his eyes are and how red he looks up close.
"if i tell you, you might hate me." he whispers, words only for you to hear.
"i could never hate you." that's ridiculous. you were literally in love with him, hello?
he looked uncertain, but eventually gave in when you were still stubborn to let him go.
“...i like you, y/n."
pardon?
"if you're messing with me, i will pull your hair out." you managed to say.
"please don't. mine doesn't grow as fast as your shitty brother."
"you're…for real then?"
"yes."
"then why would you think i hate you?"
iwaizumi winced, like the next few words were gonna be painful. "you said you think of me as a brother."
"because i thought you only saw me as a sister!" you blurted out.
"what?" his big saucer eyes matching your own. "what're you saying?"
"i'm in love with you." you bit your lip and continued on. "i've been in love with you ever since i can remember."
there. it was finally out, no takesies backsies. honestly it felt good to have that in the open. it was like ripping off a bandaid, painful but at the same time, relieving.
but then panic set in when he didn't say anything for a solid minute.
you watched as his face slowly turned red till the tip of his ears and his mouth opening, closing, as if still figuring out what to say. his hands moved first, slowly taking you off of his back and turning your body so you were now hugging him from the front, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
"so… we like each other?" he says, lips unbelievably close to your own.
"apparently."
"so if i wanted to kiss you, your would say…" he trails off, eyes solely focusing on your lips.
"i'd say it's about damn time, haji." you mimicked his movements.
"about damn time," he mutters before claiming your lips with his.
about damn time indeed.
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drdemonprince · 3 months
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Is "safe sex" even real? Never done it so idk but you mentioned risk profiles once. I feel like demographically I've got a higher risk profile and the anxiety about that really prevents me from going and trying anything. Do you think that's overly anxious in a negative way?
"safe sex" is a really misleading and binary term. There is never any guarantee of safety in anything we do. Every choice we make comes with risks. Hell, choosing not to connect with other people sexually (if you have any desire to) does ITSELF come with its own risks and costs over time.
The chase after perfect, guranteed safety will only lead to us feeling powerless and afraid, because it is an impossibility. All that we can do is inform ourselves of the risks, mitigate the risks we are the most concerned about and that affect others, and then knowingly accept what risks we still face as the cost of leading a full, enjoyable life.
When we inform ourselves about risk mitigation, we learn there are certain steps that we should probably take to protect ourselves and others if we are engaging in behavior that carries risk. If you're having sex with a complete stranger, it's probably smart to use a condom. If you have sex regularly you might want an HPV vaccine or to be on PreP to prevent HIV transmission. When you meet up with people you should get tested for COVID. You should get vaccinated against COVID. If you want to get suspended in rope from the ceiling don't use a hardware store $3 carabeener, get the good shit from the rock-climbing supply store. Things like that.
But even if you use a condom, you might get herpes or HPV or crabs or a yeast infection. Even if you never have sex, you might already have herpes or HPV or crabs or a yeast infection. I've had several of those things, including some of the "scarier" sounding ones, and they're really not that big a deal. They're just a thing that happens in life. Most people have them. You pop a Valtrex when you have symptoms, you shove a suppostiory up your vulva when it itches, you sleep without underwear on, you communicate with partners, you move on with your life.
Sure, I do what I can to avoid the risks I am most concerned about. I take PreP right now because not getting HIV would be preferable to me. But I could still live if I got it. I am informed about the realities of living with HIV today, which makes that fear more manageable. It is easier for me to make carefully considered and yet realistic decisions surrounding my risk profile because I can confront the realities that scare me and learn more about them.
The body is not separable form its environment. We are connected to our surroundings and the people around us, and our bodies get sick, catch viruses, grow old, get messy, and die inevitably and return to the earth. With our one life, we each have to choose what is most important to us and what potential costs we can stand. But with each year that passes, a cost to our bodies is already incurred, and there's nothing we can do to prevent aging and death from coming our way.
So what would you like to do while you are around? Would you like to have sex with condoms? Go on PreP? Get the HPV vaccine? Take random loads in a glory hole? Make out and dry hump with a cutie at a party and catch her cold sore? Cross the street in the dark after looking both ways? Go out dancing so late that your sleep is disrupted for the whole week? Get your heart broken? Have a great all-consuming love? Have children? Endure a torn labia while giving birth? Try psychedelics? Go on a swinger's cruise? Get a UTI from spermicide? Roleplay online instead of meeting in person? Fuck people with a strap-on?
The choice is yours. And no choice you make will be perfect or come without risk. No life is safe. Accepting loss is one of the necessary tasks of leading a life. But you can educate yourself, reflect on what you most want out of life and what you fear, and then take steps to demystefy your worst fears and mitigate the risks that loom largest to you and the people you care about.
Whatever you decide, I hope you have some fun.
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