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#and also when they do move in they have separate bedrooms
golden1u5t · 13 hours
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back home | e.p x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ summary: you and emily have just gotten back home after a long case, one where you stayed in different hotel rooms and never had the chance to enjoy each other's company aside from the case. luckily you're back home and can enjoy each other as much as you like.
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as you and emily finally stepped through the door of your shared apartment, all the exhaustion melted away, instead replaced by a rush of relief to finally be back in the comfort of your home. you made quick work of putting your hardware away safely before you dragged yourself into your bedroom and collapsed onto the bed with an aspirated sigh. emily followed close behind you and leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms as she watched you bury your face into your blankets. 
the feeling of the bed dipping caused you to turn your head, she had laid down on her side beside you and propped herself up on her elbow. the sight of her never failed to make you giddy inside, not being able to really see her all week definitely had a lot to do with that feeling also. really the only times you were able to actually sit down with her was when you were taking a break to eat, all the other times you were purely working. 
also, having separate hotel rooms meant that by the time you were finished with the day you were both too tired to even think about going to the others room, only wanting nothing more than to take a shower and pass out on the crappy beds. 
“you know, i really don’t appreciate how amazing our apartment is until we have to stay in those hotels.” you groaned, dropping your head back onto the bed. emily let out a soft scoff and lightly shoved your arm before getting off the bed. you turned around and sat up, watching her walk over to the dresser. “what are you doing?”
“i’m gonna go wash up…in our amazing shower.” she looked at you through the mirror that was on the dresser as she picked out her clothes, you immediately perked up when she said that. showering with emily had always been your favorite thing to do since the first time you did it, even if you literally didn’t do anything other than clean yourselves. you stood up and walked up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning your head on her shoulder. 
“mind if i join you?”
“not at all.”
+++ 
the shower had started off fairly normal, you both took turns under the water, kept your hands to yourself(mostly), and so on. it was fine until she went to wet her hair, her body had arched back just enough that she could get all of her hair and it gave you a perfect view of her chest. you tried to keep your hands to yourself but the longer you watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took, the harder it was for you to keep your hands off her. 
you contemplated on whether you should have just let her finish washing her hair or if you should give into what you really wanted to do. it only took you a few seconds to decide, honestly. you reached up and placed your hands on her waist, tugging her from under the water and pressing her back against the shower wall. emily hardly had the chance to react before you were crashing your lips into hers. 
her breath hitched for a second before she melted into you and wrapped her arms around your neck, pressing herself into your body as your hands roamed over her skin. you couldn’t find a place on her to settle your hands, they moved from her ass to the back of her head, from her chest to her hips, from her hips to back around to her ass. you loved every part of her body and sometimes you wished you had extra arms and hands so you could touch every part of her. 
“we can never take a normal shower.” emily breathed out as you tucked your head in the crook of her neck and started to litter kisses across the soft skin of her throat. you only hummed in response to her because to you normal had a vast definition; for some people showering without their partner was normal and for others showering with their partners but never touching each other was normal, but for you and emily, having sex every time you showered together was perfectly normal. 
“i know but- fuck, em. i’ve been thinking about this all day.” you huffed out, pulling away from her to look her in her eyes. “you can’t tell me you haven’t been waiting for this very moment either.” 
emily ran her fingers through your hair as she tugged you back into a kiss. she couldn’t deny that she had been thinking about doing this all day, honestly, she’d been thinking about it since the first night at the hotel but she had been too tired to do anything about it. finally, you used your knee to push her legs apart and reached down between her thighs. you swiped your fingertips through her soaked folds, groaning at how wet she was, all the way up to her swollen clit. 
you pulled away from her and carefully lowered yourself onto your knees, you hooked your hand under her leg and pulled it over your shoulder. emily’s hand went into your hair to hold it back as you looked up at her for permission, to which she simply nodded her head. 
she watched you intensely as you leaned forward and closed your mouth around her clit, your fingers gently prodding at her entrance. when you finally slipped a finger inside she let out a soft whimper and tighter her hold on your hair. your thrust were slow for now since you were only trying to get her ready for another finger and when you did add another one, her head tipped back against the shower wall and a drawn out moan slipped from her lips. 
as you found yourself falling into a good rhythm, your fingers and tongue working together to push emily over the edge, her hips started to grind down into your. they bucked wildly against your face as you curled your fingers in her pussy and the sound of the water hitting the shower floor was slowly being drowned out by the sound of her moans. 
the water from the shower had started to go cold and with it hitting your skin, it had you letting out a small moan. the noise was completely unintentional but the vibrations against emily’s clit was just what she needed, her fingers tightened in your hair as she tugged one last time and her back arching from the shower wall. 
you helped her ride out her high before gently pulling your fingers out and standing up, you pushed her hair from her face and placed a quick kiss to her lips. you would’ve stayed in the shower longer just to kiss her but goosebumps were starting to form on your skin from the coolness of the water. 
“come on, em, it’s freezing in here.” 
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afreakingdork · 2 days
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Weak Spot - Chapter 66
RotTMNT Donatello x Reader
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The last thing you see before you lose a hand or as I like to say, this week's chapter art by @aimike17
Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay
Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?
SCREECHING AFTER THE FACT SHOUT-OUT TO @tmntxthings for helping me out with this chapter too! She's a freaking saint when it comes to helping me cook!!!
Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut
Also available on Ao3
First 💜 Previous
LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!
Fem!Reader References/Warnings: gun, robbery, threats of murder, blood, broken bones, bra removal, clit suck, folds, and the typical pregnancy mention
“Tarp.”
“Check.” You patted down the many plastic sheets.
“Mirrors.”
“Big and small.” You tiptoed around a floor length one and over to the table where a handheld one lay.
“Paint.”
“Check.” In a little swivel, you held out a hand in demonstration to the litany of choices.
“Brushes.”
“Check!” You turned your outstretched hand into a pointed finger to the cup sporting many.
“Spot testing for allergic reactions, check. Scheduled time is blocked so we have the entire day. This leaves mess where tarps have been laid out in accordance to my mapping.” Donnie lifted his head from a screen to stare down where plastic sheets disappeared into the bathroom. “Bedroom otherwise prepared, which leaves clean up…”
You nodded in time, itching to get ready.
“Clean up.”
His repeated line brought your attention.
He was in motion toward the bathroom before you could even ask.
There you heard the clatter of the shower curtain as you followed.
“No, no!”
You reached the door frame and looked in where he was holding a bottle of his soap. “What?”
“Colloquially I may say body wash, but this is technically a cleanser!”
“Okay…?”
“Cleanser retains skin’s natural oil!”
Your fingers squeezed the jamb as you waited for him to elaborate.
“It won’t properly clear paint! Water-based or otherwise!”
“Oh…”
He shook the container. “We would need excess which I have not planned for! The new formulation isn’t due for another week!” 
You grimaced sheepishly. 
Donnie sighed and then turned to gripe at you. “While I may have increased my order to account for your utilization, it will not be enough. If you recall, we had the addition of your soap for grimier circumstances. With my wash it would take multiple lathers to scrub away all residue. This would leave us without cleanser before more arrived, id est, we were meant to have purchased a separate and appropriate soap.” 
He hadn’t been shy about his complaints. When you had first moved in, you had your own body wash, but after a while it seemed easier to just use his. While the formula was supposedly made for him alone, it also made your skin feel comfortably supple.  “Uh huh...”
“Y/N, this is a problem!” He brought the bottle over to you.
You took the offering, found it light as described, and turned your head toward the sink. “Okay… We have other soaps… How about the hand soap right here?”
He made a noise of revulsion.
“Or dish soap?” Your head lolled as you looked at him.
His features curled into twisted horror. “You are describing a replacement worse than simply letting the paint dry!”
“If it dries, it just flakes off, doesn't it?”
“I won’t even dignify that with a response.” He spoke caustically.
“Donnie, the dish soap is good enough for ducks and oil spills. It’s their whole branding, it can’t be that bad-”
“These are neither oil based paints nor are either of us waterfowl!”
“That’s not what the marketing scheme is trying to-!”
“I refuse!”
You made an annoyed sound and were just shy of stomping your foot. “Donnie, it took forever to get the tarps down according to your plan!”
He folded his arm.
“Donatello!”
His beak rose with a haughty turn of his head.
“So, that’s it!? No body painting because you forgot soap!?”
“Me?” He came down with a fiery gaze. “We made the list together!”
“And you’re Santa Claus checking it twice! You ordered everything!”
“Blame goes both ways. You wound me and therefore I’m even less inclined to continue our activity!” In a flap of his hands, he shooed you.
Irritated, you stepped away only for him to begin to kick up the tarp behind you. “What are you doing!?”
“As you so kindly put it, there will be no body painting today! I am cleaning up!”
“Don, come on!” You blocked him from messing up the ground cover further.
He towered over you.
“We spent all that time testing brushes to make sure they felt right against you! Hell, we spent forever trying to figure out the best way to write on each other. Markers grossed you out and there was so much trial and error for smell and texture and everything! Then, getting the stuff and the time and setup! Please…!”
“We have a process for a reason. This is an undertaking, not to be done on a whim.” His eyes were down, ready to calculate moving you out of the way.
You stepped around his toes to cage him in. “Do you still want to?”
He reared with an annoyed shake. “Have you not been listening!?”
You whacked your hands against his plastron. “Obviously I have! I’m asking if you’re just trying to find an excuse out.”
“Of course not!” He was further offended. “I put forth the effort because I wanted this! We both did!”
“Then why are you giving up so easily!?”
“I’m not! I’m rescheduling. We can attempt another after we have the proper wash.” He found that to be his last word on the situation and moved to get around you.
“I can go to the closest store. There’s a shop two blocks from here and I know they have body wash!”
Donnie stalled, but didn’t look.
“It’s not going to be a great brand, but all soap strips right? As long as it’s for the body, that’s good enough?”
He was clearly processing.
“Please…?”
“Not all.” He glanced. “I have stipulations.”
“Shoot.”
“The product must be free of sulfates, parabens, phthalates, mineral oil, retinyl palmitate, coal tar, hydroquinone, triclosan, triclocarban, formaldehyde and its derivative releasing agents, and even the slightest form of fragrance.”
Your lips parted as you weren’t prepared for such a long list. “You need to send that to me.”
“I will go with you.”
“Yeah!?”
“Calm, this is still your task. I would only rather waste a portion of my time.”
You frowned.
“I don’t care if I ruin the mood.”
You gave one tepid sigh before looking at him with a withered expression. “Your skin care is important.”
“As how it feels and what goes on it.”
“Yes. I’m not making light, I’m just…” You gestured out to how your bedroom was coated in plastic wrap. “We worked so hard. I… no, we were really looking forward to this…” 
“I acknowledge the frustrations.” He dipped in to press his beak to your head.
You lingered only for a moment. “Now?”
“Now.” He agreed and you both moved to leave.
Getting shoes on, you were both out the door and heading to the store. Right where you said it was, the micro grocer was a dingy, but serviceable place. Donnie made his stand outside and only helped you by writing out his request list in an app. With your phone in hand, you entered and only glanced at the shopkeeper. A young guy scrolling on his phone, he ignored you while you headed to where the toiletries were. Several options, you picked up the first to start reading ingredients when the door opened again.
Background noise of another customer, you sneered at one of the banned ingredients and moved for the next bottle. Scanning through that one’s tiny print, you squinted to examine it closer when you heard a huffy voice.
“Hurry up…”
Your head lifting with an odd weight, you leaned just enough to look past the shelf you were at.
At the register, whoever had walked in was clearly robbing the place with a gun shaped figure lifted up through his jacket.
Staring, you saw the man at the counter struggle with the machine. “It won’t open unless you make a purchase. I don’t really know-!”
“Fake one, stupid!” The gunman hissed, jerking his coat.
You looked toward the front window, but couldn’t see Donnie.
“Trying to be a hero!?” You weren’t sure how, but the gunman must have caught a glimpse of you because he spun around.
Donnie had been right next to the front door. 
He would have seen the guy enter. 
He would have heard the commotion, no matter how quiet. 
“Hey, you listening?!”
You didn’t move your pupils, but the guy at the register chanced a shaky hand toward the phone.
“Dipshit!!” The gunman stalked toward you. “You hear what the fuck I’m saying or not!?”
Without moving your head, you looked the man up and down. 
He appeared small.
He was technically taller than you, but you couldn’t help but shrink him in your mind.
He appeared pathetic with his spindly form and terrible stance.
He looked like he’d jumped into this store on a whim to steal a quick buck in the middle of a slow weekend day.
One thing out of place was sending him into a rage. 
You arched a brow. “I’m kind of busy.”
“You’re…?” The flared anger was snuffed out in a confused instant.
“Yeah, my boyfriend is really particular about his body wash.” You shook the bottle in your hands so he could see it better.
“I’m… What the FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?” Doubling down, he yanked the gun out of his jacket pocket to properly point it.
In a way, you were surprised he actually had one. 
You expected someone like him to have just faked it with his hand. 
Your heart rate barely blipped at the matte black object.
In contrast to your steady blood pressure, you saw a very familiar rush of black behind the gunman. 
It was a move imperceptible to anyone else.
When had your senses become so honed?
You guessed it was somewhere along the pipeline of generally dating a mutant and having almost died.
You had seen things the average person couldn’t dream of. 
Guns seemed so archaic in comparison. 
That explained why you weren’t scared.
You’d dealt with enough.
This pathetic trash wasn’t worth your adrenaline.
You had full faith in your mate and yourself. 
“He’s very particular, ya know?” You shrugged.
“Wha…?” The gunman wilted again at your second rebuttal.
“About this…” You looked at the shelf. “About me…” You turned your attention toward the barrel. “He’s waiting for me.”
“If you think your stupid ass sob story is going to-? You know what, fuck you! Empty your pockets, NOW!” The pistol shook and rotated.
“No.”
He blinked.
“I don’t think you understand.” Your head tipped and you could feel the unhinged quality your features took on. “I’m warning you. Put that gun down and walk out or else.”
If the man’s initial anger level was at a one and he doubled it on your first refusal, then his current boiling point broke mercury. “STUPID, FUCKING-!”
Metal crunched so loud it caused the racks of goods to reverberate.
Standing beside you was Donnie.
Extending out from his body were two of his mechanical arms.
One of which was clasped not only around the gun it had just devoured, but the gunman’s hand.
“I tried to tell him.” You gave Donnie a sugar coated look.
Your partner tipped his head toward you in acknowledgement.
Pain delayed, the gunman screeched and the first drops of blood began to trickle out from where his firearm was now part of him.
“You.” The other mech arm blurred as it caught the man by the chest and slammed him into the ground so hard that the floor depressed around him.
You tucked into Donnie’s side and overlooked the crater. “I have an idea.”
“Yes, my love?” Donnie turned to you with faint interest.
The gunman gurgled.
“We’re busy. Let’s have him take himself to the police. He can confess and we won’t have to deal with cover ups or statements.” You touched Donnie’s arm.
Donnie hummed, unconvinced.
The gunman pawed at the mech arm crushing him with his only available hand.
“What do you think?” You looked down at him. “You go or you die?”
“M-my h-hand!” He squawked.
“You point a gun at my mate.” Donnie leaned back with you moving in tandem and the mechanical arm hoisted the gunman up into the air. “Now you ignore their generous offer?”
Reality struck the gunman and he twitched. “I-I-I-I’ll g-go!”
“I’ll know if you take a single step otherwise.” Donnie’s grin split excitement. “I do hope you will.”
“N-no! I-I’ll g-go r-right t-there!!! P-please!!”
Donnie glanced at you with a smoothed out expression.
“Sounds like he gets it.” You rested your chin against him.
Donnie’s lids lowered with affection and the mechanical arms released.
The man hit the floor with another squeak of pain before he scrambled. He smeared blood from his broken hand out in a wet streak before he stumbled on a twisted angle straight towards the door. As if in a movie panning shot, you and Donnie both watched after him and caught sight of the young man at the register. 
His hands were up in surrender.
A phone hung from one of his palms.
“He called the police.” You told Donnie. “ETA?” 
Your boyfriend checked his gauntlet for a tiny screen projection. “Ten minutes.”
“Hey, we really just wanted to buy some soap. Is it cool if we keep looking?” You raised your voice a little to address the shop attendant.
The guy gawked.
Donnie seemed to realize something and in a slow withdrawal, the mechanical arms retreated and morphed back into his battle shell.
As if on cue, the attendant’s hands similarly lowered. “Seriously?!”
“Yeah.” You held up the body wash bottle still in your hand.
“… Whatever, sure!” The attendant slumped in a stool and mumbled about his day.
“Okay, I was almost done with this one.” You walked back to the selection with your eyes glued to the tiny print.
Donnie came with and curled around your back, pressing impatient kisses to your neck.
“Sweet, I gotta focus.”
“Love you.” He husked in your ear.
“Me too.” You spoke distantly. “Ugh dangit, not this one either.”
The moment you reached to put it back on the shelf, Donnie took advantage of the real estate and groped under your lifted arm.
You held back a moan. “D-Don…!”
“Want you.”
“I know, but the paint…” You fumbled the last bottle, but kept it from falling off the shelf.
He churred honey into your ear.
You shuddered as you turned the bottle over to read. “I saw you run up behind the asshole. I’m surprised you waited.”
He released a hot breath from where he was nibbling your ear lobe. “You were stunning. I wouldn’t dare interrupt. That control, incredible.”
“I didn’t do anything…” Your eyes drifted and you leaned to give him better access.
He latched to give you a hickey close to your hairline.
You released a shaky breath.
He gave a final hard suck before moving his lips away only long enough to mumble. “I see sodium palmitate, which falls in a similar group. Try the bar.”
“I-is that on there? Damn…” You put the bottle back and he moved with you as you grabbed said rectangle.
A churr rumbled in your ears as you found the ingredients list scant and to the point.
“This one’s perfect, fuck, this one.”
“Very good.” He pressed a wet kiss below his mark and removed himself from you.
You stumbled a few steps before making it to the register to pay.
“Uh, thank… you…?” The young man mumbled unsure as he rang you up.
“Sure.” You shrugged and caught the soap bar to leave after the transaction.
“You’ll receive payment for the floor.” Donnie tossed casually as he followed you out.
You heard the attendant give another confused thanks.
Your legs pumped with power walking purpose back towards your apartment. Donnie’s longer legs kept him easily in tow and he had a light hearted air as you walked. Reaching your apartment in record time, you both jockeyed at the front door and in doing so a question popped out of you. 
“You going soft?”
He slowed and turned to you with a curious shift of his pupil.
“Hot or not, there was a gun pointed at me. I doubt there’s much what if, but it just feels like usually you would have killed or maimed anyone the second they tried a stunt like that.”
Donnie sugared his gaze before he bent in, nice and slow, to put his face on level with yours. With a lethally cute tip of his head, his gaze simmered. “So what if I am?”
Your stomach somersaulted.
“So what if I am going soft?” He repeated and the tip of his beak took the faintest whiff of the air.  “Maybe I prefer domestication…? Doesn’t smell like a problem.”
You murmured his name and the door felt especially heavy where you were stuck holding it.
“Being kept…” He flicked a low lidded gaze over you. “I was not aware of the advantages. It seemed a noose, but a docile predator has the same bite while no longer having to fight to be fed.”
“It’s about how they use it…” You whispered and ghosted your lips over his before charging inside.
He followed close after and, as you tried to deviate toward the elevator, he hooked your waist. You were launched up several flights of stairs in a way that reminded you of a tender version of your first night together and this time there was no need to fumble at the door. You slipped in first and took a few dancing steps with your purchase obvious in hand.
Donnie leered behind and you deposited the soap bar in the bathroom before meeting him in the bedroom. The kiss there seared intensity, but starkly contrasted the slow way he worked up the bottom of your top. You mewled against his lips, struggling with quick urges and he scolded you with promises of more. You relented and broke apart long enough for him to disrobe you.
Bra as a last hold, you took your turn to steal his sweater away and did so with far less grace. You dragged him with his long arms on a tug and he chuckled his way to wrapping them around you. Both for a hug and then for the greater purpose of unfastening your bottoms, you peppered him with kisses. He lounged in them, slowing as he shimmied fabric down your hips. By the time your bottom hit the floor, he was drunkenly shoving his tongue into your mouth.
Winding and sipping on heat, you melded together. Your bra was soon popped and you tipped your body to let it fall from your shoulders as he did his own fly. Coordination had you both naked and clothes were kicked away toward the living room before you pulled him to the paint selection.
“Mark me as yours.” His voice ghosted your ears.
You both exhaled and sighed dreamy as you picked black for its sharp pigmentation. Selecting one of the soft brushes that he’d designated for his skin, you dunked bristles to pigment before bringing up a darkened tip. He eyed it and then you with trust so full that it threatened to drip the same as your implement. Moving forward with a flexible wrist, you swiped black over his neck. A reclamation of his brand, he handed himself over and the loll back of his head said the sensation felt good. Stroking to enhance and taking care in making a bold collar, streaks dripped and rolled along his musculature. It adorned his painted choker with black pearls that beckoned you to swipe over the plump tips of. 
Donnie surfaced enough to try to watch you as you finger painted from the pool and wrote your name amongst the drip just under his blackened throat.
“If found, please return to…” You teased and kissed his cheek.
He churred lightly. “May I?”
“Of course.” You held the brush out for him and he politely declined.
You followed him to the table. He took a long time selecting his own instruments and in the meantime you cleaned your brush. Capping off the black paint, you set the brush off to dry in a little section of the table that was set up for that. Donnie then approached you, ready, with a carefully turned paint canister in one hand and a medium sized precision brush in the other.
“Stand over here.” He gestured and walked himself toward the middle of the bedroom.
You trailed after and strained to see what color he had.
“Don’t look.” He grinned knowingly. “Eyes on mine. I want to surprise you.”
You adjusted your posture to look at him comfortably. “Won’t I be able to tell from the strokes?”
He hummed with little interest. “Maybe.”
You watched the way his lids fell as he uncapped his paint. His little lashes moved as a brush of their own, protecting the dimensionality of his eyes. You watched every little dip and dart of his pupil as he acquired paint. His focus shifted, all engrossed, as the brush dabbed wet to your arm. First with a blot so he could test the thickness and viscosity of the paint, he swiped and adjusted his brush’s load before he committed to a full stroke.
A swift line that he focused on cleanly finishing off, there was a curl of movement. In an attractive turn of his head, he must have looked at the paint pot to get more on his brush. You were enamored to watch your mate work with this new point of view. So often when you were on the receiving end, he was doing his best to distract you. Now you only had clear attention and with it you could commit all of him to memory. From another swipe to your current arm and then moving to the other, you tracked him the whole way. With his eyes focused on the task, you got to see every emotion pass over them.
You understood the phrase windows to the soul, but the phrase took new meaning when you watched him like this. His dedication flowed out in acts of service and he was a machine ever taking information in. If you were to agree with his domestication comment, you’d only do so because he’d allowed it. He was a wild animal that had judged you in a lengthy trial period before he ever chanced bowing his head to your worth.
It was an honor bestowed as great as knighthood and, as such, Donnie knelt before you. You wished you still had your paints to both lay your decree and also because you could now see you had missed a spot on his collar. With his head down you could see the missing connection clearly and wanted to belt off the green. It would match his villainous color scheme nicely where he’d left his mask on and you hardly noticed him painting your legs until he lifted up with a satisfied smile.
“Done already?”
Donnie grinned and went to put his brushes up. “One moment for the reveal.”
“Yessir.” You tried to parse out the damp skin and what it marked off.
It was clearly each of your limbs, but hadn’t seemed to be a complicated design.
Before you could ponder further, Donnie appeared behind you to lead you over to the mirror. “Eyes.”
You let him move you and followed only his gaze in the reflection.
In a quick shuffling to get you full framed, he then nodded for you to look at yourself.
You did and found the slightest purple on your arms. You turned first to the right, finding two connected blocks on your upper arm, but also revealed two disconnected ones on your legs. Your smile grew as you turned the other way and found more purple pixels, all identical replicas of Donnie’s markings. “Interesting brand.”
“I do appreciate a theme.” He kissed your cheek over your shoulder. “You look ravishing.”
“If it’s a theme, you forgot the green.” You chewed your lip and leaned into him. “I love it. Understated, but you.”
Donnie chuffed. “Skin needs to breathe. A full-body paint job would cover your pores and chance a disruption of the sweating and cooling mechanisms in your body. if we were to test something like that, might as well have a cloaking broach.”
You turned toward him. “What is that? You’ve said it before and I think Shelly has like… alluded to it?”
“It’s a stone that allows one to cloak their appearance.”
“Got that much.” You teased and made it obvious you were returning for the paints.
He followed you to clean his brush. “A mystic item then.”
“Do you have one?” You picked the same pair you had before and gestured him to the bed.
He sat on the crinkling tarp covering and waited for you. “No. I liken my visage.”
Half sitting on the edge, you leaned around him to close the painted collar and then drifted brushstrokes down his front. “I do too.”
He churred affection.
You tried to paint his plastron and frowned at how the different texture streaked the paint. “How does the stone figure out what you should look like? Do you think of an image in your head and it makes it happen?”
“Some thought, but as with most mysticism, it trends illogical. Let’s imagine if you were to don it and you chose to cloak as a turtle mutant.”
You nodded both to him and how you tested various brushing techniques to get the black to lacquer.
“You may not be a softshell.”
That caught your attention and you sent surprise toward him. 
He had latent irritation creasing his features. “Unfortunately there’s a certain luck of the draw. There’s a high chance you may be, considering my DNA…” He reached out and pressed a targeted digit into your pelvis. “… is soaked into yours, but I digress. It isn’t assured.”
You stalled a stroke and kissed him hard.
He held you a metered amount away to protect your paint work.
You tapered off for a few needy presses before reluctantly continuing. “Is that why you chose to disguise yourself with make-up instead? Didn’t like the way the broach changed you?”
He gave a faint chirp of approval at your memory.
You stole another kiss. 
“I feel compelled to clarify: I’ve never used one.” 
“Don’t like the chance of how it’ll change you.” You corrected. 
You chuckled and felt his approving air follow you down onto your knees so you could have better access to painting further down his plastron. 
“Share?”
“I was just thinking this would totally turn into washboard abs.” You gestured to him and layered on extra coats to thicken the lines you’d drawn.
“You’re curious?”
“Not really.” You tried to make a circle, but it wasn’t clean. “You don’t like it, so I’m not really interested.”
“You wouldn’t prefer me human.”
It was a statement and, though he hadn’t asked, you knew he needed reassurance. You sent it up to him by fully stopping and giving him your full attention. “Never.”
He had a wickedness to his gaze. “Monster fucker.”
You splatted your brush right into his beak and he chuffed droplets to clear his nose.
Still, he laughed and you continued your work with a pout.
Criss-crossing lines, you did a few touch ups, before you sat back to look at your work as a whole.
“I could acquire two.”
You moved your attention to his face.
“For science. I appreciate that sort of intrigue.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
“It’s not a physiological change. Only cosmetic.”
“And mystic.” You gave a lazy grin.
He sneered.
“Anything with you.” You stood.
He took a deep breath before doing the same. “Shall I see your masterpiece?”
“Please.” You swept your hand in a gesture to the full length mirror.
He moved to his reflection and recognition hit him immediately. “A harness.”
“Yes, my pet.” You pressed to his carapace and kissed his arm. “That’s kept.”
“I never considered…” He tilted his head.
“Wearing one? I doubt that.” You came around to look him over again.
He shook his head. “You didn’t connect the collar.” He pointed at this throat and then down. “I never thought to wear a harness without.”
“Oh…”
“Oh.” He mimicked your interest. “I’ll whip something up.”
“Use the link rings.” You leaned into him.
“Of course.” He kissed your forehead and took your chin. “Make-up gave me an idea.”
“What do you need?” You held up your brush and paint.
“Same purple paint, thin square brush.”
“Got it.” You moved to trade off your equipment and brought his requested materials back.
“Eyes closed.”
Your lids drifted and you tipped your chin up for him.
He startled you by catching your lips first then he moved to paint. Careful around your eyes, you felt him make more rectangles skirting down your cheeks. He then was careful over your lids and brows. He blew lightly to seal his art and then moved you gently over to the mirror. You held firm with closed eyes until he gave the signal and opened them to find he’d done an inspired extension of his markings on your face.
“I look cool…” You admired his work around blinks.
“Very…” He breathed warmth into your ear.
You tipped your head for him and he pressed kisses down the side of your neck.
A distraction, a cool brush dabbed your lower back and you arched with a small gasp.
“You k-know…” You managed as he painted what was clearly another rectangular shape. “I’d figured you go womb tattoo before a tramp stamp.”
He slowed only for a moment before he ducked his head to ensure his design. “Dangerous.”
“How so?”
“I would only need the correctly imbued ink.” He skirted your ass and you twitched with sensitivity.
“What…?” You drunkenly slurred as he exchanged his brush for a hand to squeeze the thick of a cheek.
“With such and the correct branching symbol, my birth control would be rendered useless.”
“Ah!” One of his fingers skirted between your legs.
“Best not to give me that power as of yet.” A finger ghosted your sex before another came around and pressed a thick stroke to your upper mons.
Your voice pitched and your head fell to see he’d smeared red paint across your lower belly. “Wha…?”
“Bed.” He nudged you in the direction, but kept himself out of sight. “I need to mark your inner thighs.”
You nodded and the moment you took a step, he slipped a finger into your folds. Knees weakening, you stumbled towards the bed riding his digit. It tested and teased your entrance and you were left to catch the edge of the mattress. He manipulated you only enough so you were sturdy before he disappeared. It took a moment to catch your breath, but you rotated and sat. He appeared, already on his knees with a brush in hand. With him before you, you spread for him and hiked your legs up against the tarp on the mattress. Your feet slid a few times as you tried to find a foothold and he lost his patience to bury his face into your core with a churr.
You cried out his name as he tasted you. His hands occupied with his brush, he rooted deeper with only his snout and lapped at your essence. Your appendages free in contrast, you fisted his mask and pulled. He clearly resisted and you saw through your delirium to how he was specifically keeping his snout from bumping that red blotch he’d made. An odd adornment hanging above your crotch, he licked up a fat stripe to suckle your clit and you bucked against his face once before he retreated. “Damned I can’t do both!”
You slumped a metered amount. “Can’t both cum in me and eat me out?”
“Yes.” He growled lightly before lifting an arm with a brush. His other appendage dipped to support the first and his perfected posture reminded you of a calligraphy master. You meant to ask if that was a skill of his, but the moment the moistened brush tip touched your thigh, you felt a current rip through your flesh. In expert strokes, the feather light tip wafted over you leaving blocks in its wake. You couldn’t help but compare it to the saliva and slick dripping from you. In contrast, it clung to you thick and wrote out a binding contract.
Property of Donatello down one inner thigh.
A prepared table that was ready to house marks of his ownership was left blank on the other.
You were leaned forward to look them over when he rose up enough to reveal his throbbing erection.
“Oh fuck…” You gasped.
“Shall we begin? See just how much of me you can hold?” He carved out a promise in scalding breath as he lined himself up with your weeping sex.
“D-Donnie, we have time. It’s not a race…”
“It’s not?” He smiled and was slow in bending forward to claim your lips. “I believe it is. Did you honestly think I wasn’t still competing with that inane heat-brained bastard?”
“That’s you-u-u-u!” Your word warbled as he pressed his glans in.
“Me.” He spat and shifted his angle with his hips alone to sink into you.
You moaned and moved to hold him.
He caught your limbs before he gave his body over to you. 
You felt something wet smear higher than anything between your legs.
For a moment, his weight dropped onto you and he gave a needy wriggle as if his cock wasn’t fully stuffed to its usual depths. 
You groaned at the pleasurable weight and felt how his entire body retreated as he pulled a calculated amount out. 
Look down. 
You looked. 
Where there had once been red, there was now purple. 
Looking up, you saw the same purple blotch on the bottom of Donnie’s plastron. 
Only his was rimmed with blue where yours had red. 
He had mixed the colors to create his own on your body right on the spot where you’d balloon with his kid. “Fuck me.”
“My pleasure.”
You wished you could say you lost track, but it was patently untrue as. Donnie, without fail, stopped each time he filled you up to make a tally mark on your inner thigh. He’d then wait, regardless of how far along you were, to ensure the dash would not smear. It was only then he’d return to you with a vigor that seemed to only grow with each symbol. 
By five you were delirious and he broke from sex to spill paint. Moving to abstract, he brought you back through slick digits that slid smoothly over your skin. He forewent brushes and dotted off designs until you were present and returned the favor. Together you tumbled and Donnie marked off zones with reminders of the memories they carried. It was a list of his downfall and you told him so. He churred warmth and between affectionate kisses, you drew lazy lines that covered his scars. The constant slick turned the many paints a neutral brain tone and with it an idea struck you.
Instructing him to get on his belly, you straddled his thighs with several bottles. You mixed outside the canvas of his body before you descended on his carapace with purpose. He was initially unnerved as you filled in the scarred gaps to his shell, but he settled at the firm pressure and reassurances that this is what you did in exchange. For each piece of him that he’d offered over, you patched them carefully to where they were meant to be. You’d never allow him to regret his decision to love you and it was when gnarled skin was filled in did you press your full palm down to the center of his spine.
“Donatello, you have my heart, my word, my everything. Whatever you choose, soft or domestic or otherwise, I’m going to make sure you can do it to your heart’s content.”
You stilled thinking he’d give a mating call or something of the like, but he sat silent.
You stared down at your hand that blended in with the color of his rough shell. 
“Y/N.”
His voice sounded watery and you tried to quell concerns. “Yeah?”
“Let go so I can gather you.”
You hadn’t considered you were holding him back. The moment your hand lifted, he flipped you over and made a thousand vows in return.
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kraviolis · 10 months
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on paper gustholomule is basically just mountain dew but in my head its a sweet sparkling red wine with notes of cherries and oak
#krav talks#toh#gustholomule#theyre both trans + gay but gus is aromantic and matt is maybe gray-ace??? not set on that tho#and theyre just friends until theyre like 16-17#and then they have this whole courting phase for like 6 months#where theyre both like. toeing the line between romantic and platonic#sort of a will-they-wont-they type of deal that agonizes their friend groups#but theyre both surprisingly chill about the whole thing#even matt is just like “if it happens it happens idk i dont wanna rush it”#and gus is sorta exploring his feelings towards romance and like. wondering if he even wants a romantic relationship with anyone#(amity & willow tell him to talk to lilith and he does and shes pretty great at helping him figure that out bcus shes romance-repulsed)#luz has been waiting for the two of them to get together since she first found out that they were actually friends#so shes the most agonized and impatient of them all#especially because shes also been waiting for hunter & willow to get together for YEARS as well and they still arent a Thing#everyone teases her for it bcus she and amity only knew each other for like. 3 months before getting together#anyways gus and matt always have a relationship that seems strange from the outside but feels perfect to them#such as them not moving in together for YEARS#despite how often they visit each other & stay overnight#and also when they do move in they have separate bedrooms#and they dont ever really have dates. they dont do any like. romantic gestures for the most part.#but they'll kiss and matt will sit on gus's lap even in public but they also wont hold hands or use pet names#their petnames are “bro” and “dude”
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contact-guy · 3 months
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lol THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG but it's such a cute story opening that I had to draw Watson roasting Holmes's messiness for the newspaper and Holmes skillfully maneuvering his way out of having to do chores. It's all canon, even the indoor sharpshooting, except for the bit about the cold bath.
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canon text under the cut:
An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least conventional in that respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan, coming on the top of a natural Bohemianism of disposition, has made me rather more lax than befits a medical man. But with me there is a limit, and when I find a man who keeps his cigars in the coal-scuttle, his tobacco in the toe end of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence transfixed by a jack-knife into the very centre of his wooden mantelpiece, then I begin to give myself virtuous airs. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humors, would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges, and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V. R. done in bullet-pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it.
Our chambers were always full of chemicals and of criminal relics which had a way of wandering into unlikely positions, and of turning up in the butter-dish or in even less desirable places. But his papers were my great crux. He had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected with his past cases, and yet it was only once in every year or two that he would muster energy to docket and arrange them; for, as I have mentioned somewhere in these incoherent memoirs, the outbursts of passionate energy when he performed the remarkable feats with which his name is associated were followed by reactions of lethargy during which he would lie about with his violin and his books, hardly moving save from the sofa to the table. Thus month after month his papers accumulated, until every corner of the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put away save by their owner. One winter’s night, as we sat together by the fire, I ventured to suggest to him that, as he had finished pasting extracts into his common-place book, he might employ the next two hours in making our room a little more habitable. He could not deny the justice of my request, so with a rather rueful face he went off to his bedroom, from which he returned presently pulling a large tin box behind him. This he placed in the middle of the floor and, squatting down upon a stool in front of it, he threw back the lid. I could see that it was already a third full of bundles of paper tied up with red tape into separate packages.
“There are cases enough here, Watson,” said he, looking at me with mischievous eyes. “I think that if you knew all that I had in this box you would ask me to pull some out instead of putting others in.”
“These are the records of your early work, then?” I asked. “I have often wished that I had notes of those cases.”
“Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before my biographer had come to glorify me.” He lifted bundle after bundle in a tender, caressing sort of way. “They are not all successes, Watson,” said he. “But there are some pretty little problems among them. Here’s the record of the Tarleton murders, and the case of Vamberry, the wine merchant, and the adventure of the old Russian woman, and the singular affair of the aluminium crutch, as well as a full account of Ricoletti of the club-foot, and his abominable wife. And here—ah, now, this really is something a little recherchè.”
He dived his arm down to the bottom of the chest, and brought up a small wooden box with a sliding lid, such as children’s toys are kept in. From within he produced a crumpled piece of paper, and old-fashioned brass key, a peg of wood with a ball of string attached to it, and three rusty old disks of metal.
“Well, my boy, what do you make of this lot?” he asked, smiling at my expression.
“It is a curious collection.”
“Very curious, and the story that hangs round it will strike you as being more curious still.”
“These relics have a history then?”
“So much so that they are history.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Sherlock Holmes picked them up one by one, and laid them along the edge of the table. Then he reseated himself in his chair and looked them over with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.
“These,” said he, “are all that I have left to remind me of the adventure of the Musgrave Ritual.”
I had heard him mention the case more than once, though I had never been able to gather the details. “I should be so glad,” said I, “if you would give me an account of it.”
“And leave the litter as it is?” he cried, mischievously. “Your tidiness won’t bear much strain after all, Watson. But I should be glad that you should add this case to your annals, for there are points in it which make it quite unique in the criminal records of this or, I believe, of any other country. A collection of my trifling achievements would certainly be incomplete which contained no account of this very singular business.
-The Memories of Sherlock Holmes: The Musgrave Ritual
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lqveharrington · 13 days
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Lucky King? | L.M.
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summary: Lucifer takes pride in everything he has, especially his wife.
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x wife!reader
includes: fluff, lucifer being a sweet and attentive husband and father, suggestiveness, possessiveness, that’s pretty much it (let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: okay but like, i am on serious hazbin brain rot, i have written more for HH than any other fandom so far.
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Being the embodiment of pride meant that Lucifer constantly flaunted everything to his fellow sins and his people. And being the King of Hell meant he had a lot to brag about. Especially his family. God, Lucifer loved his family and would do anything to talk about them in every conversation.
An overlord meeting about movie productions on VoxFlix? Add romantic comedies, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite. Speaking with Beelzebub about her different alcoholic beverages? Make sure to make mojitos, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite.
He took pride in who he married and who his daughter was. After all, they were the royal family of Hell.
“Mom, I think it’s as tight as it can go— MOM!” Charlie’s eyes flashed red as she squealed, grabbing your arm.
“Sorry!” You tilt your head back as you let a laugh fall from your lips. “I thought you said—“
“No no no no noooo!” She turned around, eyes wide. “I think I’m good.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her crown.
Charlie beamed at you and traded places with you. “My turn!”
You hum as she tightens the corset around you, eyes flickering up toward the mirror when you hear the door creak open. “Hey, handsome.”
“Hi, my love.” He pressed a kiss to your hand and then one to Charlie’s forehead. “Hi, apple pie.” He watched his daughter tug on the strings attached to the corset, moving forward when it seemed like you were going to fall from the platform. “Charlie, what are you doing to your mother?”
“Pulling her corset tight—“ She grunted as she held the string in place, tying the back. “There.” You gave her a thumbs up as she finished, watching her glow at your silent praise.
“Gorgeous as always.” Lucifer stole you from your platform, the devil’s tail wrapping around your waist.
“You know? Vaggie is probably looking for me! I should leave…” Charlie let out an awkward laugh and fled for the door. “Text me when you need me for the entrance!”
Lucifer dipped you down, chuckling when you let out a noise of surprise. “You look breathtaking, my love. Maybe we should just skip the gala and do better activities right here—“
“Lucifer!” You lightly smack his chest, face flushed from his words. “You horny devil!”
“Says the queen of Hell.” He captured you in a quick kiss, red lipstick staining his lips. “Come on, Charlie can handle it on her own.” He squeezed your hips as you walked over to the vanity with his head resting on your bare shoulder.
You glance at your beloved with a soft look, “Luce, we didn’t coordinate a whole gala just to have our daughter host it herself.” You clip on a pair of earrings, the golden snake and apple shining through the light. “We also didn’t have these outfits made for us just for them to be wasted away on our bedroom floor.”
“I mean…” He nipped on your exposed shoulder, earning a gasp and glare. “They made you a maroon dress with a slit exposing your legs, my love.”
“Because it matches your maroon and black suit.” You turn in his arms and tug at his lapels. “Which I have to admit, kinda does it for me.”
He smirked as he slowly pushed you up against the vanity, “Yeah? Maybe we should ditch.”
“Nope.” Your hands clasped behind his neck, eyes widening when you feel one of his hands trail down to your exposed leg. “Luce…”
“You started this.” He slotted himself between your legs and continuously peppered kisses to your collarbone and neck, softly sucking. “You’re a tease.”
“Lucifer—“ Your protests were cut off with a quiet moan, but you quickly covered your mouth when hearing him chuckle. “Nope, we’re leaving now.”
Lucifer separated from you, a wide grin adorning his face as he scanned you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Let’s go then, my love.”
You raised a brow but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arm around your waist to guide you toward the ballroom. You both were quickly accompanied by your daughter as you made your way to the landing of the grand stairway.
The lights flashed off and the spotlight projected on the Morningstar family, the crowd’s voice hushed when spotting the monarchy. Lucifer gave a welcoming speech to the sinners, overlords, and sins who attended, making sure to mention his family and how they helped make the gala entirely possible. Final rounds of applause echoed through the ballroom as Lucifer finished off, letting everyone go back to their socialization and dancing.
“Mom,” Charlie caught you before you could follow Lucifer to greet his fellow sins. “Did you… Do you know why… You have bruises on your neck.” She finally mumbled out, eyes not meeting yours.
You felt yourself warm from embarrassment. Not only did your daughter tell you that you have hickeys on your neck, but you stood in the blinding lights with an audience staring at the three of you. No doubt photographers caught this and snapped photos for the internet. “Thank you for telling me, baby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to murder your father.”
“Mom—“
You scanned the room before your gaze zeroed on Lucifer. He was laughing with Asmodeus before meeting your gaze and gave you a wink. Oh, he was going to pay.
“Lucifer.” You appear by his side. You give his fellow sin a quick smile but turn back to the little devil with a scowl. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course.” He wrapped an arm around your waist. “It was nice catching up with you, Oz.”
You guided Lucifer back to a secluded hallway, eyes flashing bright red when you were alone. Within a blink of an eye, you had Lucifer pinned against the wall with your forearm.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to know that I went out there with bruises all over my neck? Or, better yet, that our daughter was the one who told me what was on my neck?” You seethed. You were beyond embarrassed and pissed, you’re surprised you haven’t become a full demon yet.
“To be fair, it was more than just your neck—“
“LUCIFER!” You use your free hand to reach up your collarbone. The room felt ten times warmer, and it didn’t help that you felt Lucifer’s devil tail decided to wrap around your calf.
He remained pinned on the wall, giving you a cheeky grin. “This is really hot.”
“Oh, my god!” You release him with a glare. “There’s going to be photos everywhere! What will the public think about—“
“Lucky king?” He shrugged as he let his fingers trail up your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Listen, we’ll get rid of the photos. But is it really a crime to show off what’s mine?”
You grumble a small response, propping your head on his shoulder. “You’re crazy, Luce.”
“I love you too, beautiful.” He chuckled.
The photos never made it outside of Pride Manor, but the teasing you received from the other sins made you flush every time. Lucifer listened to each jeer, a smirk present on his face from the constant reminder that you were in fact his.
Especially when the bruises scattered around you spelled out his initials.
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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changetyre · 1 month
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Lando is secretly dating a girl he knew from high school, and she meets Daniel Ricciardo at one point, Lando brings y/n to a race very discreetly and there is some jealousy with Daniel and it ends up with a quickie in his motor room, and lastly their relationship is exposed in some way
Please☺️
You're mine and it's time to let them know II Lando Norris x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ
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SUMMARY: Lando has loved nothing more than to have you all to himself for so long but it only takes Daniel Ricciardo to make sure the world hears you scream you're his.
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: I switched the request a little I hope you don't mind It just sort of worked better in my mind like this ;)
"You ready darling?" Lando walked into your shared bedroom after the last-minute business call he had to take. "Woah." He bit his lip eying you up and down.
"No baby...I know that look we're already running late." You couldn't hold back the smirk at the way you saw your boyfriend looking at you knowing that look would only lead to another and you'd both end up wrapped up in the sheets soon after.
"What? I don't know what you're talking about." Lando feigned innocence although he walked towards you wrapping his hands around your waist loving the way you felt in his arms especially when you looked like this.
"Lando." You said his name in a warning tone as you finished putting your earrings in.
"It's times like this I hate that we're a secret...how am I supposed to keep my hands off you tonight?" Lando pouted, his usual child-like behavior showing.
"Well you've done for 6 years I'm sure you'll manage another night." You smiled grabbing your boyfriend's hand before guiding him out.
"At least let me kiss you." Lando stopped and pulled you back you as you were about to open the front door.
"I just put lip gloss on." You pouted this time.
Lando obviously didn't find a problem with this as he happily took your pout as an invitation to close the space between you both and kiss you a little more intensely than you'd thought he meant.
By the time he pulled away, Lando knew he had left you in a daze. "Lan-" your breath skipped as you saw the lip gloss around your boyfriend's lips.
"That should do for a few hours," Lando smirked as he took his fingers wiping the gloss that had spread around your lips and proceeded to use the back of his sleeve to wipe the excess around his own lips before exciting through the front door.
________
You arrived on separate cars not being new to the hundreds of cameras that would be waiting at the entrance to the gala. After so many years of hiding their relationship, everything was rehearsed when they were in public.
It was fun, you thought almost like your own Hannah Montana movie. People knew who you were, completely aware to your ties with Lando from being classmates in high school to working together in the same industry now.
That's at least as much as the public knew. They weren't familiar with the longer version of the story where Lando and you had actually been more than classmates in high school and were in fact in a long relationship and had mutually decided to work in the same industry to stay together.
Lando of course had always dreamt of being a driver and wanting to stay close to him but also sharing a passion for communication you'd been offered a job as communication manager for McLaren allowing you to stay close, but not close enough for people to suspect there was more.
So thankfully it also wasn't odd for you to appear at the F1 gala as you had been invited ever since you'd started working with McLaren.
What was unexpected though was the fact that a certain someone would take the opportunity to make a move now that he wasn't going to be in the team anymore.
"You look beautiful." Daniel walked to you a drink in hand before he took another one from a passing waiter handing out glasses of champagne.
"Thank you, Dani, you clean up well too." Daniel handed you the new drink as you chose to reply kindly not a stranger to men trying to hit on you but another driver was certainly new territory.
"You know when we were working I was certain you had to be seeing someone but coming to the gala with a dress as gorgeous as this without someone by your side...that is a surprise." Daniel was a lot more intense than you'd expected making you choke on your drink.
"Uhmm...actually-" You were interrupted before you could come up with something.
"y/n come dance with me." Lando walked up to you placing his hand low on your back which took you completely by surprise.
"I was actually hoping to dance with her myself-" Daniel laughed with Lando except Lando didn't seem to find the humor.
"Hmm was always faster wasn't I?" You gasped at the insinuation and watched Dani's smile drop but before you could say anything else Lando had taken your hand and was taking you somewhere.
"Lando!" You shouted after your boyfriend who didn't seem like would stop until he got to his destination.
Lando didn't stop until you were both in a secluded hallway.
"Lando what the fuck wa-" But before you could say anything else Lando had pulled you in holding your waist tightly into him and kissing you passionately.
"You're mine okay? I'm tired of hiding it." He whispered and you could feel his breath tickle your lips as you tried to process what was happening.
"Lan where did this come from?" You weren't exactly opposed to the idea of finally going public but you certainly didn't think today would be the day.
"I just...I'm having a hard time keeping my hands off you in this dress." Lando smirked repeating his words from a few hours earlier before he took your hand once more pulling you into the men's bathroom and locking the door after him.
"Lando what has gotten into you!" Your smile deceived you as Lando picked you up and sat you on the bathroom counter.
"Can't a man just show his girlfriend how much he fucking loves her?" Lando smirked as he kneeled in front of you and wasted no time in attacking the space between your legs.
"Ahh-" You were breathless in seconds as Lando licked at your clothed clit for a few seconds before shoving your panties aside and sucking you directly.
"Let me see you baby-" Lando seperated his lips from you for a few seconds and you knew exactly what he meant.
You shimmied the straps of your dress off your shoulders letting Lando see your bare chest as his hand came up to cup your left boob.
"Lando please fuck me-" you begged your boyfriend as you felt yourself getting close.
"Only because we need to be quick pretty girl." Lando obliged coming up to kiss you and letting you taste yourself on his lips as he aligned himself with you.
"Mhm-" you moaned into your boyfriends lips as he pushed into you starting to set a pace immediately.
"How does that feel baby?" Lando asked.
"Mm so- so ahh-so good Lando-" You were struggling to formulate words with how good he could make you feel.
"That's it darling, let everyone hear who you're screaming for." Lando grunted.
"AHH LAN!" You weren't able to contain your volume as Lando quickened his pace without previous warning but something told you he intended for this to happen.
"Who's making you cum baby?" Lando asked as he could feel you start to clench around him.
"Ah-Ah- you- you Lan-only you-" You moaned not even sure how loud you were being but quite frankly you didn't care.
"Fuck...that's it." Lando was satisfied enough as he slowed his pace after fucking you through your orgasm and finishing himself. "That's it, darling." He kissed you softly, a clear contrast to the way he'd just fucked you seconds before.
"Everyone's gonna know now Lan-" you commented as you pulled the straps back over your shoulder and Lan cleaned you up gently.
"That was the idea yes-" Lando smirked proudly planting a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling your dress down and patting it down for you.
"Was the idea everyone or Dani?" You asked laughing to yourself knowing how childish your boyfriend could be.
"Hmm let's say one of those was an added bonus" He winked as he watched you fix your hair and tried to clean yourself up a bit.
"You're insane." You turned to face your boyfriend.
"And you still said yes." He smiled before kissing you once more, proudly wrapping his arm around your waist and enjoying the rest of the night unashamedly with you by his side.
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A/N: This is the first time I do a twitter au on Tumblr but don't expect them frequently cause I hate doing them I just thought it went well with this story ;)
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yeonzzzn · 2 months
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consequences: sim jaeyun
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 4.4k
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synopsis: folding your boyfriends laundry is a normal for you, mostly when his schedule is busy. so being the good girlfriend you are, you fold his laundry and stumble upon his soccer jersey, deciding to tease him with it and ultimately dealing with the consequences of your actions once he returns home.
genre: established relationship, non-idol!au, soccer player!jake, smut
warnings: swearing, sending nudes, bratty reader, masturbation, degrading, unprotected sex, dom!jake, jake rips readers panties, he is rough with reader, hair pulling, sex on the counter top, finger sucking, edging, MINORS DNI, lmk if I missed anything ♡
this is specially dedicated to @alvojake for helping me create this masterpiece ♡
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You let yourself into your boyfriend's apartment, finding the hidden spare key inside the fake potted plant by the door, and strolling on inside. You knew he didn’t mind, you practically lived here anyway, preferring his bed over the shitty one you had back at the dorms. You might as well just move in with him at this point, most of your clothes and belongings are here as well. 
Again, it was perfectly normal for you to randomly show up at his apartment even when he wasn’t home. Sending him a quick text letting him know you’re waiting for him to come home from work and soccer practice, to which he responds back with three heart-eye emojis. 
Jake is always working so hard, not just at his job and college, but also at his sport, and on top of being a great boyfriend and always making time for you within his busy schedule. Taking the “if they want to they will!!” to a whole other level. Jake spoils you, cooks for you, always makes sure you feel loved and cared and most of all, he communicates. 
And because he is always giving everything his one hundred percent in all areas, the least you could do is help keep his apartment clean, fridge and pantry stocked with food, and keep up with his laundry. 
Which is the first thing your eyes are laid upon when you walk into the apartment, seeing all his clothes tossed onto the couch with his clean clothes laundry basket sitting beside the coffee table. 
The apartment smelt of his laundry detergent and soap, the sweet smell of lavender and honey filling your senses as you stepped closer to the couch, on instinct sitting down in the middle of the couch and picking at the clothing one by one to fold them. Separating them into categories as you folded: jeans and sweatpants, boxers and socks, shirts, tanks, and sweatshirts, his hoodies, his dressier clothing, and last but not least, his soccer jerseys. 
Not only did Jake have a couple extra jerseys from the team he plays on for the college you both attended, but professional jerseys from his favorite teams. 
One by one, you took the now folded laundry to his bedroom, placing them neatly in his dresser. But once it was time for the jerseys to be played neatly in, you accidentally dropped one onto the floor. 
With a sigh, you gently pressed the other jerseys into the drawer, then picked up the now unfolded one. You stared at his last name printed in big bolded “SIM” lettering, your eyes roaming at the blue and white stripes of your college's colors, then wandering up to the full-length mirror that rested against his bedroom wall, seeing your reflection. 
You rubbed your thighs together at the thoughts that came into your mind, tucking your lip between your teeth. 
You didn’t think twice about removing your clothing, leaving you completely naked until you pulled his jersey over your head, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. 
Sitting yourself on the floor in front of the mirror, you snapped a few photos, spreading your legs wide enough to expose your cunt and sitting straight enough that your nipples could obviously be seen. You turned yourself around, sitting pretty on your legs, lifting his jersey up enough to get a perfect view of your ass, and snapped a couple more photos. 
You grinned at yourself as you double-checked each photo, being satisfied with the outcomes. All you had to do now was send them on their way to your boyfriend. 
Jake sat at his computer desk, picking the lint out of the pockets of his jeans while watching Heeseung and Jay play rock paper scissors out of pure boredom. Usually, on a normal day, there’d be something to do. Whether that was paperwork, speaking to clients, scheduling meetings, or placing orders. But today? Not. A. Damn. Fucking. Thing. It took everything in Jake to not purposely sit back into his chair far enough that it tipped over and caused a panic just to help give everyone something to do. 
He checked the clock at the far end of the office, still two hours left before he could dip out and head to soccer practice then return home and be in your arms. Which was the only thing keeping him from jumping out the second-story window from this boredom, by the way. 
As if the thoughts of you were enough to manifest your text, he couldn’t hold back the smile at seeing your name on his phone. 
you: I folded your laundry jakey <3 jake: tysm baby <3 what would I do without you fr fr? 
The love Jake felt for you in this moment made him feel all warm and content, you were so good to him and for him. He literally couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend. 
you: I did more than just your laundry.  jake: oh? you: [6 image attachments]
Jake nearly dropped his phone to the floor, his pants growing tighter the minute those sexy photos popped up in his texts. Quickly locked his phone and with a swift motion glanced over his shoulder making sure none of his co-workers were behind him when he received those photos. 
You smirked at seeing he read the message, already knowing he was probably panicking while being as hard as a rock. Leaning back on your ass to spread your legs further apart, you slide your fingers down your folds, spreading your lips apart. The very thought of Jake squirming at his desk to hide his raging boner had you completely soaked. 
Jake tried to clear his thoughts, to take deep breaths to keep calm and soften his cock but not having any luck. The images of bending you over this desk in front of him and railing the fuck out of you in his jersey wouldn’t leave his brain. His pants grew ever more tighter against him. 
He knew he had to take care of this boner and fast before anyone noticed and he became the laughing joke for the next month. 
With anger now fueling him, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and held it close to his lower stomach as he stood from his chair, “Gonna take a quick break, be right back,” he said to Heeseung and Jay, they giving him a quick nod before returning to their rock paper scissors game. 
Jake slammed the bathroom door shut and locked, tossing his jacket to the counter. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down feeling the relief of his throbbing cock not being restricted, slamming his back against the door. 
Jake fumbled with his phone in his hands, fingers shaking as he texted you back after saving each photo one by one. 
jake: that was risky sending nudes like that while I am working.  you: but you loved it, didn’t you? ;) jake: what if someone saw them? i’m the only one who gets to see you like that.  you: oops you: [2 image attachments] 
He clicked the two new photos, seeing the way your fingers spread your folds apart, your cunt glistening against the sunlight that beamed into the room from your slick. 
Jake gritted his teeth, immediately dialing your number and pressing the phone to his ear, the call instantly going to voice mail, “ugh fucking whore,” he grumbled, redialing your number again. You knew better than to ignore his call a second time and answer. 
With a shaky voice, you said, “Hey baby,” 
“Hmm don’t hey baby me,” he growled, his free hand palming himself through his boxers at your voice, “you’re being so risky right now sending me those nudes, YN.” 
You could tell by his voice how hard and turned-on he was. You could hear it in his voice that he was touching himself. It made you circle your fingers on your clit and cunt clench around nothing, “Hmm but you’re enjoying it, aren’t you Jakey?” 
He slid his boxers and jeans down to his thighs, seeing how red and angry his cock was, how the precum slowly dripped down the side of the tip. He took himself in his hand and slowly pumped himself, “You’re being so naughty right now, being so slutty.” 
You softly moan at him degrading you, rubbing your fingers against your fuck hole, the lewd sounds making their way into Jake’s ear. 
“You better not be touching yourself,” he snapped, pumping his cock faster, tightening his fingers. He was so angry and so horny that the lines were getting blurred. He wanted nothing more than for his fingers to be the ones rubbing your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of you. 
“And what if I am?” you cooed, hovering your fingers over your hole. 
“Stop,” he demanded, “Stop pleasuring yourself without me there as punishment for sending me nudes while I am working.” 
Jake had to admit this was so fucking hot. Even if your bratty behavior was driving him up a wall in more than just one way. 
“And if I don’t?” you cooed again, licking your bottom lip. 
“Keep being a brat and find out.” 
You pushed your fingers into your cunt, releasing a soft gasp. 
“You better not be fucking touching yourself,” he said again. 
You giggled, then ended the call. 
Oh, now he was pissed. 
Jake dropped his cock against his abdomen, both thumbs moving at the speed of light in anger, texting out a message about your bratty behavior, but stopping midway through to see a photo and video coming up. 
The photo made his jaw clench. His jersey was now pulled up over your breasts, your perky nipples on full display as your legs are spread even wider than in the last couple of photos, with two of your fingers pushed knuckles deep into your pussy. 
What a fucking brat.
The video was worse. You moaned loudly as you circled your fingers around your clit, then slowly slipped them between your legs, gathering your juices from your seeping hole, rubbing it up and spreading it around your lips. A small amount of it leaked from your cunt, slowly dripping down to the hardwood floor of his bedroom and then the video ended. 
WHAT. A. FUCKING. BRAT. 
He spit in his hand and took his cock back into his palm, stroking himself faster than before, head tilting back onto the door, biting his lip to keep his moans at a minimal level as his thumb worked to text you back. 
jake: it’s all over for you  you: oh yeah? jake: yeah jake: i’m going to fucking ruin you
You smirked, locking your phone and tossing it onto his bed, and pulled your pretty dark blue panties back onto your body. 
While you were smitten at what you’ve created, Jake is drawing blood from his lip at how hard his teeth bit down. His hand pumping him in a pit of anger. How dare you disobey him? Even if it made him even more horny, how dare you? It was one thing to be bratty while with him, but to be so brave to do it while he’s away from you? Did you think you were safe? Nah. It’s over for you the minute he steps foot into that apartment. You wouldn’t know peace. Getting everything but being gentle with you. 
Jake flipped through the photos and video you sent him, watching again and again how your slick drips from your cunt and onto his floor until his cum shoots out, coating his stomach. He loved seeing you wearing his clothes, mostly his jersey. Loving seeing his last name printed on the back with your gorgeous fat ass out sitting so perfectly on your perfect legs. Jake didn’t hesitate to make that his new home wallpaper. It was so fucking hot even with how mad he was. 
Jerking off might have taken care of his boner problem, but the main issue here is the fact he still has a little over an hour before getting off work and still had soccer practice to attend. The only thing Jake knew was you definitely made his workday entertaining. 
You were banking on that by the time Jake gets off work and attends practice, he would be way too tired to even punish you. So you pranced around his apartment in his jersey and your dark blue panties with a big ole smile on your face. 
Your stomach growled and decided to push your bratty, naughty girlfriend persona off to the back burner and go back to your sweet, caring, loving, and cute girlfriend persona who takes care of her boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away. 
You cooked dinner, which you don’t often do but still will on days Jake has longer schedules like tonight—putting together the perfect recipe for spaghetti and meatballs. 
Once the food was done, you checked the time, seeing Jake was probably off work now and heading to practice. You felt good knowing that once he returns home he’ll have a warm meal to eat. 
Except, you weren’t expecting what was about to happen. 
Jake skipped practice. 
Being way too damn horny and couldn’t wait a second longer. Jake was lucky he was able to keep a perfect boner (that unfortunately resurfaced) during the last hour of work. Made a phone call the minute he was out of his company building to his coach about how something urgent came up and he’d be missing practice tonight. 
Urgent as in him fucking you until you could no longer stand or walk. For a whole fucking week. 
Jake was sneaky as he carefully pushed his key into the doorknob and tip-toed his way in. Slowly and quietly closing the door behind him and slipping out of his shoes. 
The smell of dinner filled his nose as he turned the corner, seeing you stand at the counter with your back facing him. 
Jake carefully made his way across the living room, removing his shirt from his body, stopping at the couch to quietly yank down his jeans and boxers and slide them over the back of the couch. 
You hummed to yourself as you finished up your dinner, wiggling your hips to whatever song you had stuck in your head. 
Jake adored you, he really did. The feeling of endearment filled his heart at seeing how happy and cute you looked right now. Jake almost—almost—forgave your behavior from earlier at the sight before him and the smell of dinner waiting for him. But his raging hard cock and the flash of your dark blue panties pulled him back. He’ll give you his forgiveness another time.
You barely pushed the empty plate away from you when you felt a pair of hands touch you. One at the back of your neck and the other on your back, shoving you forward onto the counter. Your face is now pressed against the cool marble. 
Your breath hitched at feeling your boyfriend’s long, hard length connecting to your ass. You don’t even need to look at him to know the hands and cock touching you’re his. You could be blind and you’d know your boyfriend's hands without a second thought. 
You finally saw him in your peripheral vision as his chest connected to your back, hot breath hitting your ear, “You think making dinner would put you in good graces?” 
“Jae,” you whined, “You’re home so early.” 
He chuckled into your ear, “Skipped practice, had more important matters to take care of.” 
Important matters being to punish you for your behavior. You could already feel your slick pooling in your panties even as your heart raced, mind wondering what he had in store for you. You could also tell he was already naked, meaning Jake meant business and no amount of apologizing would save you. Not that you wanted to be saved anyway. 
The hand that was at your back slid down, aggressively squeezing your ass before slipping his hand around your thigh and between your legs, feeling your wetness pool onto his fingers. Jake hissed at the feeling. You were soaked. He didn’t even need to prep you. And that drove him insane. 
“I told you to not fucking touch yourself,” he growled, his tongue licking up your ear, “But you had to go be a slut and disobey me.” 
You backed your ass against him, both hands shooting to your hips and gripping them tightly, “Don’t,” he warned, “Don’t fucking move.” 
You obeyed, keeping as still as possible. Trying so hard to not rub your thighs together in anticipation of what is to come. 
Jake lifted himself off of you, eyes drifting down to your dark blue panties, seeing the wet spot from your cunt on full display, all for him. 
Jake didn’t want to wait those few couple seconds to slide your pretty panties down your legs and throw them across the room. No, no. That wouldn’t be fun. He looped his index fingers into the fabric and the sound of them ripping filled the kitchen. 
“Jake!” you snapped, starting to lift yourself off the counter, only to feel his hand right back on your neck and face meeting the marble once again, “Those were my favorite panties!” 
“Womp womp,” he cooed, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your neck, as his fingers slid down to your clit, “Shouldn't have been acting like a fucking brat today. I also told you to not fucking move.” 
Jake violently, and fastly, circled his fingers on your clit. It took everything in you to not moan out in such pleasure. Not wanting to give your boyfriend the satisfaction of hearing you. He wanted to call you a brat? You’ll act like a brat. 
Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you were purposely holding back those sweet moans he desperately wanted to hear all in a way to get back at him. Unfortunately for you, Jake knows your body inside and out. Know what gets you going. Knows how to get you cumming with just his words alone. Knows how to work his cock in your pussy that will have you scream chanting his name at the top of your lungs for the whole apartment complex to hear. 
He released his hand from your neck and wrapped it in your hair in a makeshift ponytail, yanking harshly to pull you up, your back now pressed to his chest.
“Wanna act like a fucking brat with me, hmm? What will be happening next is the consequences of your actions.” 
Your bratty behavior was short-lived as his fingers worked faster against your clit, his breath whispering how much of a slut you were, his little whore, how bad of a girl you were acting today. 
Your body tensed, and Jake removed his fingers, “Jae,” you whined at the loss of his fingers, feeling the climax you so badly wanted fade away, taking it upon yourself to slide your own fingers to your heat to finish yourself off, only for Jake to slap your hand away, and you were back to being bent over the countertop, your arms being pinned above you. 
“Nah,” he groaned, his free hand gripping your thigh to bend it up and onto the counter, “Bad girls don’t get to cum, not when they disobey their boyfriend.” 
You groaned against the marble, feeling your hot breath push back up at you, “Jae, I’m sorry,” 
Jake smirked, he finally broke you. 
“Oh, yeah?” he whispered, taking his cock between his fingers and lining the tip up to your fuck hole, “You’re sorry?” 
You nodded, fingers gripping the hand that held yours. You wanted his cock so far up inside you so bad you were willing to beg, to apologize if it got you what you wanted. 
Jake slowly pushed the tip in, “Use your words, baby,” 
“Yes,” you pant, “I am sorry for being a brat.” 
“Hmmm,” Jake hummed, “You’re still going to be punished.” 
Jake aggressively pushed himself into you, completely bottoming out. 
You chant out a string of “yes yes yes,” at him filling you up. But to your dismay, he didn’t move. 
His fingers found your clit again, going just as fast as they did before his palm pushed down on your tummy, putting more pressure on his dick wrapped in your walls. 
You let out wet moans, drool sliding out your mouth and onto the countertop. 
“Louder, baby,” he groaned, “let me hear those sounds,” 
You moaned louder, cunt clenching around him, and his fingers were once again gone. 
You hissed at him and he just chuckled, “I told you bad girls don’t get to cum,” 
He continued to edge you, dick still not moving inside of you, reminding you over and over again that this was your punishment, this was the consequences of your actions. Being denied the release you so desperately wanted. 
Tears filled your eyes, head softly tilting up to make eye contact with him. 
His pupils were blown out, full of lust, want, and need. You could tell by his facial expression he was losing his fucking mind. But Jake was strong-willed, and all it took was you locking eyes with him, batting those pretty eyes at him with those little tears for his grin to grow wider and decide to finally let you release. 
Jake loved edging you, loved being so dominant and in control over you. Most importantly, he loved seeing how he’s ruined you. 
“Cum,” he whispered into your ear, “Cum for me my love, make a sweet mess on my cock.” 
You clenched around him, his fingers continued making their circles and showing no sign of slowing down until he felt your release on his cock. 
“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, slowing his fingers. 
Jake could feel your cum seeping out of your hole and down his thigh. He lifted your leg on the countertop even higher, spreading you so wide for him.
Then he started moving. 
You yelped, your back arching, hands scrambling to get out of his hold to grip the counter. He fucked into you at a primal rate. The hand on your thigh squeezing the plush so hard his nails dug into the skin sure to leave bruises. 
His hand released your hands and found their way back into your hair, pulling you back up against his chest. 
“Scream my name,” he moaned into your ear, breathing unevenly from the pure pleasure his cock was feeling as he railed you against this counter, “Scream my name.” 
And you did, using every ounce of air in your lungs to scream his name, his cock hitting your g-spot as your climax built up again. You already knew you’d have bruises on your hips from hitting the counter by his fucking, that your voice would be nonexistent in the morning, your legs would be jelly, and barely be able to move. 
But you loved it. Loved every bit of it. These were the consequences of your choices, after all. 
You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, mouth gaping open as you continued to moan out his name in pleasure. Jake couldn’t help himself, your mouth looked so pretty all open for him and shoved his fingers into your mouth, the middle pushing down onto your tongue. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, tongue swirling around his digits the best you could with the pressure he had on it. 
Jake was losing his mind as he looked down at you, seeing the way your breasts bounce as his dick fucked up into you, seeing the way your nipples graze against his jersey. 
Fuck he was so in love with you. 
His thrusts became sloppy and not as aggressive. He was reaching his climax. 
“Ughh m’gunna cum,” he moaned, your lips wrapping around his fingers and slightly biting down onto them, making him hiss in response. 
Jake wanted to cum so fucking bad, wanted to feel you tightly around him as he came. 
He shoved your leg off the counter, groaning as he forced your thighs to touch, making you so much tighter around him. You came right then and there from that pressure, sending Jake’s head spinning. 
He bent you back over the countertop, removing his fingers from your mouth and gripping the other side of the counter, his hand that was in your mouth slipping from your saliva and accidentally shoving the plate that once held your dinner off the counter and onto the hard floor with a crash. 
He pressed his chest to your back, using all his leg and hip strength to fuck harder into you in a way of begging for his release. His knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the counter, teeth biting down into your shoulder. 
The last moan you let out in sync with his final thrust sent him over the edge, his cum painting your walls. Jake thrust a couple more times to chase his high, milking his cock with your cunt of every last drop until it was leaking down your leg. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he pants, releasing the counter and running his hands down to your waist, softly squeezing as he plants soft kisses on your back, “I fucking love you.”
With a shaky breath, you told him you loved him too. 
He pulled out of you, and lifted you from the counter, already seeing how wobbly your legs were, it boosted his ego. 
Jake embraced you, kissing all over your face before landing on your lips in a soft, passionate kiss. 
Just when you think you’ve paid your dues, Jake’s cock hardened against your stomach, and his eyes went dark again, his index finger pointing at the broken plate on the floor while his other hand gripped your chin, “Clean it up please for me baby while I eat the delicious dinner you made for me, can’t let it go to waste.” 
You nodded, watching as Jake removed himself from you and walked to the stove, grabbing a plate. You studied his back muscles, lip tucking between your teeth at how sexy he was shirtless, how sexy his back was. 
“Oh, YN?” you hummed in response, watching as he slowly turned to face you, “Drink some water to soothe that throat of yours will ya? You’re going to suck me off after I eat.” 
You rubbed your thighs together in excitement. Hands playing with the ends of his jersey. 
Maybe you’ll be a brat when he’s away more often.
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yikesmary · 11 months
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DRUNK GIANT — kim mingyu x reader
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summary: in which you have to figure out how to transfer your drunk boyfriend to the bedroom without causing major bodily harm. and he’s not making it easy for you.
notes: this was really fun for me to write so i hope you guys like it!
join my taglist!
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Your cell phone blared loudly, waking you up from your slumber. Your first instinct was to ignore it until whoever was calling you gave up, but when you looked at the digital clock that was on the nightstand and saw it was 1:03AM, you figured it was important.
You picked up your phone and the contact name “Mingyu’s Boyfriend” was display across the screen. “Hello? Wonwoo?” you greeted, your voice groggily and your eyes still adjusting.
“Hey, I’m in front of the house and me and Cheol can barely get him through the front door,” Wonwoo said.
“I thought Gyu was supposed to sleepover at yours so you didn’t have to drop him off?” You asked.
“Well, he refused to get in the car unless we said we’re going to you. And we might as well do it since— Mingyu’s in the bushes,” Wonwoo said, cutting himself off and you could hear the rustle of the bushes in the background.
“I’ll be there in a second,” you said, standing up.
“This isn’t meant to rush you or anything, but we have to drop off Hoshi and I don’t know if Seokmin will be able to dodge his kisses the drunker he gets. And we’ve had to separate Dino and Seungkwan from fighting more times than necessary,”
You opened the front door to see quite a sight; Seungcheol was trying to get Mingyu up and away from the bushes that were in front of your house and Wonwoo was a moment away from running away. "I thought you guys took three cars?" You asked, hanging up on the phone.
"Yeah, well, Jeonghan and Joshua were the drivers of the two other cars. And you probably know how that went when they saw how drunk the others were," Seungcheol sighed.
You laughed, knowing how sneaky both guys were. "How did Gyu get this drunk anyways?" you questioned, seeing both Wonwoo and Seungcheol exchange a look.
"That. What was that?" You asked, pointing at the both of them.
"Mingyu may have challenged me to a drinking game..." Seungcheol told you, and you groaned since Seungcheol had the best tolerance for alcohol.
"So you're telling me you're the reason why my boyfriend can barely stand up? And why didn't you stop him?" You directed your first question to Seungcheol and then the second to Wonwoo.
"I couldn't find them in the club! I was too busy trying to stop Seungkwan and Seokmin from dancing on top of the tables," Wonwoo defended himself.
The three of you looked at Mingyu, who had finally noticed that you were there. "Baby!" He slurred, standing up on his own. But that didn't last long as he had stumbled into your arms once he was close enough.
"Gyu, why'd you have to challenge Cheol on drinking?" you asked, trying your best to adjust him, but considering he towered over you, it was difficult to.
"Could you put him on the couch in the living room? I'll take care of the rest," you asked the only two men who were sober.
They nodded, and each men took Mingyu's arm and when you opened the door for them, they put him on the couch. They weren't delicate with it either; they just plopped him onto the couch and he nearly slipped off if it wasn't for Wonwoo pushing him back.
Wonwoo and Seungcheol said goodbye to you and once they left, you were left with a drunk Mingyu, with the mission to get him to your shared bedroom.
"Baby, c'mon, you have to help me out here," you asked, but all he did was mumble and move his head.
"Kim Mingyu, if you don't help me right now... Something will happen!"
You were tempted to leave him on the couch and leave him there, but you would've felt guilty if you did. Also, there were countless times where he took care of you when you were sick or drunk, so you felt you should do the same.
"Gyu, I'm not above bribing you, so if you stand up and walk to our room, I'll give you kisses," you negotiated.
Once you finished your sentence, Mingyu's head snapped up so fast that you swore he nearly broke his neck. "Kisses?" he whispered, but it sounded more like 'kith' with how drunk he was and how his lisp came out.
"All the kisses you want, you just have to go to our room and lay in our bed,"
In an instant, like Mingyu gained a boost, he was able to stand himself up and dart to your room, the fastest you've seen him.
You shook your head and followed him, shocked at how easy that was.
"I wonder if Wonwoo were to offer kisses, if Mingyu would've done it,"
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3K notes · View notes
zayneslady · 3 months
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hey!! loved that angst fic you wrote xx can i request the boys reaction to when the reader/mc and them are in an argument, and they accidentally said something extremely hurtful and it made reader cry. make the boys regret it so much pls hehe😼 thank you 💗
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warnings: angst, open ending again hehe and again, reader is not MC
characters: Zayn, Xavier, Rafayel x reader (separately)
a/n: my first request *-* thank you so much! This exact trope is one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it! Get your tissues ready! Also thank you to everyone's support in my first post! I'm so happy! ❤️
Classification: scenarios
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ZAYNE ❄️
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You didn't want to admit it, but you were sick. During the day you felt a little sore in your throat and your nose was stuffy. Arriving at Zayne's house after work, it was more than obvious that you had a fever. Your face was red and the chills running through your body made you shiver. 
There was nothing else to do, you would miss work tomorrow to fully recover. Furthermore, with the care of your loving doctor, you knew you'd be fine in no time. So you quickly took a shower and after drying your hair, you grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch with a cold patch on your forehead, waiting for Zayne patiently. 
To your surprise, he arrived at a normal time and your heart vibrated with joy when you saw him enter. He had his head low as he stepped out of his shoes and closed the door behind him. 
"Zayne! Welcome back! How was your day?” You greeted him as he shrugged his coat off. “Guess what," you said, giggling softly because it was quite obvious by your funny voice that you were sick. "I got a little sick after yesterday's ra- 
You jumped a little when Zayne suddenly groaned, whipping his head up to look at you. “Oh my Lord,” he said, annoyed. “Can't you see I'm fucking tired? You do not know when you shut your damned mouth? I can't stand you! Why are you so clingy?” 
Your eyes widened and your face turned bright red. Your mind went blank and you didn't notice the tears streaming down your face until Zayne's face changed from complete anger to guilt. He looked at you from the door as if he didn't know what had happened just now. He didn't recognize himself. How did he dare to talk to you like that when you-
He gasped softly, “you're sick.”
You tried to clean your tears with your hands as you got up from the couch. Zayne made an attempt to come close to you, but you quickly ran to the bedroom only to come back after a couple of minutes with your shoes and coat on. 
“Excuse me,” you said, as you approached the door. 
“What? Where are you going like this? You need to rest.”
You nodded, trying to keep some distance from him. “I know. I'll rest back home. So please move.”
“Stay here. I'll take care of you,” he grabbed your hand and more tears fell down. How could he talk so sweetly right now after what he said. 
You shook your head, pulling your hand away and pushing him aside so you could open the door. “I don't need you, Zayne. Not when you can't stand me.”
“I was wrong, please.”
“I was wrong too. Goodbye, Zayne.”
XAVIER ⭐
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“My poor Xavier,” you mumbled, gently cleaning a wound in Xavier's side. You winced when he did and your heart broke. You knew perfectly well that this could happen because of his line of work, but you felt terrible every time he came home hurt. “Oh, Xav, is it too painful?” You asked as you started to bandage him. 
He shook his head, breathing heavily and resting his head against the pillow on his bed. “It could be worse. Thank you for helping out.” 
“No need to thank me,” you said, smiling at him as you placed a tender and loving hand over his now bandaged wound. “I wish you didn't have to do this. It's so dangerous.” 
Your words had no poison. You clearly didn't want Xavier to suffer in any way. Why couldn't he have a regular, safe job? Maybe he's just strong because he has to protect everyone. You said those words from the bottom of your warm heart, so you were more than surprised to hear Xavier's response:
“What? Are you saying I'm weak?” He spat and you blinked. 
“N-No! I'm just saying that I wish you had another job because- 
“Is that so? So you rather have a bunch of wanderers attacking innocent people? Just because you don't want me to get hurt?” 
“It's- It's not like that! I never said that. I just get worried sick for you and-
“Maybe I should really stop, huh? Just turn a blind eye to everything that's happening like egoist people like you di.”
He just kept vomiting out words, one harsher than the last. Every time you tried to speak and fix this misunderstanding, his irrational words drowned out your voice and it made something heavy and nauseating settle in your stomach. This was not going to end well in any way. 
“Xavier, my love, please listen to me. I do not- 
“Maybe one day a wanderer will actually kill you. And believe me, I won't even bat an eye at you,” he said, crossing his arms and turning his head away from you. 
Your eyes had never filled with tears as quickly as that moment. Your body began to shake with suppressed sobs as you felt heat and disappointment throughout your body. Did Xavier just... wish for your death? And in the hands of a creature as horrible as a wanderer? 
“Oh no,” he suddenly said and you flinched when you felt his touch against your cheek. “I am so, so sorry.” You cried a little harder before getting up from his bed. “W-Wait, my star. Please, I'm sorry.”
No words came out. You simply grabbed your bag and left the room.
He called your name and then groaned in pain as he tried to move. “Pl-please, come back! Where-
You couldn't hear more of his words as you closed the door of his apartment. Did this mean the end? You truly thought so. 
Rafayel 🐠
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"Ah, welcome back, Rafayel!" The amount of excitement that rushed through your body whenever your eyes landed on him was almost overwhelming. It wasn't that you hadn't seen him in a long time, but a second without him felt like a century. 
His eyes, usually warm and sparkling, looked cold and even angry at seeing you in his house. "Hello," he said dryly as he closed the door behind him. You frowned slightly. "What are you doing here?" 
"Hmm, nothing much. I just wanted to visit you. Is that alright?" 
He sighed, placing a paper bag on the table. "Yeah, sure. I gave you a key after all."
You cleared your throat, nodding awkwardly. "Did... you have a good day?" 
He sighed again and shook his head as he stepped out of his shoes. "I didn't. It was terrible for the very first moment I opened my eyes. You see," he started and you nodded, listening carefully. "I overslept so I lost precious time for my painting. Then I didn't have time to eat so I didn't eat anything but a piece of bread."
You immediately got up to make dinner for him, maybe after eating he'd feel better? 
"And the worst thing was," he said, collapsing onto his couch. "I couldn't find my emerald green paint so I had to go all the way to the art store and get a new one! Ugh!" 
You blinked, frowning a little. "Your emerald green?" 
"That's what I said."
"Hmm, I'm very sure I put it in all of your greens?" You left the ingredients aside as you walked to the paints. "Here it is." 
He got up and looked at you with an astonished expression. Confusion quickly turned into anger and he was yelling at you in a second. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"You saw me last night!" You explained, carefully leaving the paint back in place. "You said you wanted your paints to be more organized and I asked you if I could help you out! You even told me you liked how I organized it by colors!" 
Rafayel let out a frustrated sigh as a hand carded through his hair. "I can't believe I just lost all of that precious time because of your stupid mistake!"
"Excuse me?"
"Every time you try to help, you just mess things up! Can't you keep your little hands to yourself for once? I was just stupid for letting you help me out! You are way too much, I can't stand you sometimes.”
You were stunned. He had never said anything like that about you, you couldn't even remember other times when you wanted to help him and you ruined it. Besides, it wasn't your fault. The green paint was there all along and he just hadn't taken the time to look for it properly.
You knew it wasn't your fault, but his harsh words and the anger and hatred in his eyes were too much. Tears quickly filled your eyes and began to fall down your reddened cheeks. 
Rafayel realized his mistake a bit too late. Letting out a gasp as he watched the first tear fall, he hurriedly approached you, but you backed away, putting space between the two of you. He couldn't say anything, too surprised by his own words.
What was just a moment seemed like minutes, endless hours with deafening silence. Only your sobs echoed around the entire house, until your voice, small and trembling, made him jump. 
“I won't touch your stuff again, Rafayel,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. 
“N-No, I didn't mean-
You nod, “if you don't mind, I'll sleep in your guest room. Goodnight, Rafayel.”
Deep inside you so desperately wanted him to stop you, but he watched you disappear into the hall and never called you back.
You knew it was going to be a very cold night.
991 notes · View notes
alexias-putellas · 2 months
Text
between us // a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso
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a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso
-
you’d had a crush on alexia from the moment you’d laid eyes on her the day you signed your barcelona contract. she was pretty and kind. and unfortunately, taken.
the barcelona girls took you in as one of their own almost immediately and within a week, you felt like you’d known them forever. of course, your feelings for alexia grew and grew but your friendship with jenni had also blossomed so you decided that it was better to have alexia in your life as a friend then not at all. same with jenni. the last thing you wanted was for either of them to hate you.
since lucy and keira had pre-warned you about how affectionate the spanish could be, you never questioned how close you became with the couple as the months flew by. your teammates never said anything either so you assumed it was normal.
you never thought twice about being invited to dinners, or about the way jenni would pull you into her side during movie nights with the team. and you only lived a few doors down from alexia so her constant presence in your apartment was normal for you.
and that night was no different. music played softly in your bedroom as you held two pairs of earrings up, nudging alexia to get her attention. she quickly pointed to your go to statement earrings and you beamed, swiping your favourite necklace before heading into the en-suite. you figured it was easier to use the bathroom mirror instead of kicking alexia out of the way to use your vanity mirror.
you held your necklace out to jenni once she’d looked up from her phone, pushing herself off the sink and gently taking it from your hand. you turned around, feeling a shiver run down your spine as her fingers ran along the back of your neck, brushing your hair to the side.
jenni fastened the necklace and you thanked her softly, ignoring the way her hands slid down your arms. your eyes flickered towards your room as you put your earrings in, noticing alexia moving around.
she sat down on your bed and you swallowed thickly, eyes trained on her legs that looked even longer in the dress she was wearing.
“isn’t she pretty?” jenni’s question was a whisper in your ear and you felt yourself nodding.
“yes. ale is very pretty.” you hummed in agreement but then froze, realising what you’d said and who you’d said it to.
hearing jenni’s soft laughter didn’t make you feel any better, neither did the kiss she pressed to your burning cheek. “you should tell her.”
“what?” you laughed nervously, stepping forward and out of her grip. “why would i do that?”
she reached out for you again, grabbing your waist and pulling you back. a small huff left your lips as you hit her chest, the blush on your cheeks deepening. “i think ale should know what you think of her.”
“i–i think you are very pretty too, jenni,” you breathed, thinking jenni’s actions were due to a sense of jealousy. “not just ale. you’re both very pretty.”
your flustered state only worsened when she turned you around, hands tight on your waist. when her eyes flickered to your lips, you knew you were a goner. “puedo besarte?”
“yes. god, yes.”
jenni’s lips were on yours in an instant and you threw your arms around her neck, pulling her closer.
guilt hit you like a ton of bricks when you separated. you rubbed at your swollen lips, backing away from the spaniard silently.
you avoided alexia’s gaze as you made your way over to your wardrobe, swinging it open to reach for your favourite pair of heels. your stomach twisted. were you really going to act normal and have dinner with alexia after kissing jenni mere feet away from her?
after slipping on the shoes, you turned around, ready to beg for alexia’s forgiveness. but she was already stood there. you studied her face. she wasn’t angry. maybe she didn’t know.
“can i kiss you now?” she asked quietly and your legs felt like jelly as she reached out to rub her thumb along your bottom lip. “or does jenni get you all to herself?”
if it was any other day, you would’ve asked questions first. but jenni’s kiss still had you reeling and you didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to kiss alexia again.
so you leaned in without a second thought.
the guilt you were feeling faded but was soon replaced with confusion. with hesitation, you gently pushed alexia back. her eyebrows furrowed and you placed your hand on her chest to keep her there. doing the same with jenni when she approached.
“what is happening? what is this? a one time thing?” you asked, looking between them quickly.
you regretted asking that last question almost immediately. you were not ready to hear the answer. your heart wouldn’t be able to take a one time thing but you didn’t know if you’d have the strength to reject them if they’d said yes.
“what do you want it to be?” alexia asked, voice soft and soothing. you swallowed thickly, the anxiety swirling in your stomach.
you had no idea what to say. you wanted them, in every way possible. but if they rejected you, where would that leave you? or the team? you didn’t want to be the reason the whole thing fell apart.
“cariño?” alexia’s voice pulled you out from your head and you inhaled sharply.
“what–what if i want something more then a one time thing? something serious?” your voice trembled slightly as did your hands.
jenni reached out and gently brushed her fingers along your cheek. “we want that too.”
“really?”
“you sound surprised,” alexia smiled and you realised that the mood had shifted. “we have been flirting with you for months, did you not notice?”
jenni grinned as your blush deepened. you rolled your eyes and swatted her hand away after she pinched at your cheek.
“you two are mean,” you murmured, shouldering passed them both. alexia wrapped her arms around you and pulled you back, nuzzling your neck as you giggled quietly. “are we still going for food?”
“i am not sure, hermosa,” alexia said, resting her chin on your shoulder. “if jenni and i are so mean, why should we take you?”
you looked over at jenni but she just shrugged. you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “is this how it’s going to be? you two ganging up on me all the time?”
jenni moved to stand in front of you, gently cradling your face and rubbing her thumbs along your jaw. you noticed her glance at alexia.
“vamos, ale. i think we need to show our girl just how nice we can be.”
ᡣ𐭩
a year into the relationship, jenni and alexia were very much used to hearing you rage at your international teammates over the phone. normally, you showed your girlfriends decency and tried to keep the noise down but when your competitiveness flared, it wasn’t always doable.
“georgia, stop cheating!” you shouted, glaring at the tv screen in front of you.
“it’s mario kart mate! how can i cheat?”
“i don’t know but you are! oh my–tooney! fuck off!” you clenched your jaw as the cheers sounded over the phone, both georgia and ella managing to beat you, the self-proclaimed mario kart champion of the lioness camp. “you know what? i hate you all.”
“what did i do?” leah asked and you could hear the frown in her voice.
“guilty by association.” you told her.
“doesn’t seem fair.”
“not my problem. i demand a rematch!”
“no.” georgia and ella said simultaneously.
“uh, yes.”
“oh, please don’t start this back and forth again.” you heard niamh plead.
“not our fault she’s a sore loser.” georgia muttered and you gasped.
“i am not!” you protested, getting radio silence in response. with a scoff, you shut down the tv and the xbox before snatching your phone. “i am ignoring this phone the next time sarina calls, do you people hear me?”
“loud and clear!” ella chirped. “don’t answer it!”
in that moment you decided that, for once, you’d be the bigger person. so you ignored the jeers of your friends and hung up, muttering angrily under your breath as you made your through your apartment.
you headed into the bedroom to see alexia leaning against the headboard, looking over at you with an amused smile. “they beat you?”
“they did not beat me, they cheated.” you huffed.
“maybe you are not as good as you think you are.” jenni’s voice echoed from the en-suite and you turned around.
“if you cannot even pretend to support me, jennifer, what are we even doing here?”
jenni laughed and you huffed again, crawling next to alexia and nestling into her side. when the brunette finally joined you, you kicked at her, letting out a yelp when alexia gently pinched your thigh. “be nice, amor.”
“be nice,” you mocked her quietly under your breath. after a few seconds, you attempted to crawl out but was immediately pulled back by the blonde. “hey!”
“where are you going?” she asked, tightening her arms as you wriggled in her grip.
“i am owed a rematch.” you told her, prying at her hands.
“no.”
“no? uh, yes,” you tried to leave again but alexia quickly flipped you onto your back, laying on top of you so you couldn’t move. “aw, ale, get off!”
“no.”
“stop saying no to me,” you groaned, wrenching your arm free and reaching out for jenni. “help!”
“no!” alexia lifted her head and glared at you, grabbing your hand and pinning it to the bed. “it will not kill you to have an early night for once.”
“it might.” you muttered, earning yourself another pinch.
with how genuinely annoyed she sounded, you half expected alexia to shove you over to jenni but she didn’t. instead, her arms snaked around your body and she nuzzled further into you.
you pouted over at jenni and she kissed it from your lips, leaning over and flicking off the lamp. you glared into the darkness, feeling jenni press another kiss to your head.
after what felt like forever and you were sure that both jenni and alexia were asleep, you wriggled from your space between them and swiped your phone, quietly slipping out of the room.
you jumped onto the sofa and opened the lioness groupchat, typing only two words with determination flowing through your veins.
REMATCH NOW
-
…another series anyone??
815 notes · View notes
juniperskye · 23 days
Text
Why are you in my head?
Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue
Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)
Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)
Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Word count: 1364
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!
That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.
You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.
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Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.
Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.
The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.
“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.
“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.
“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.
Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.
You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.
“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.
There we go.
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*Eddie’s POV*
Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!
The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?
She better let me make the basement my room!
Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.
YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?
He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.
*End Eddie’s POV*
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You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.
“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.
“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.
Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!
Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.
“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.
“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.
“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.
You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him.  They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.
“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.
“How loud?” Your mom asked.
“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”
“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.
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Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.
Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.
Finally! My own car!
The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.
Then Vecna will make a surprise return.
What the hell?
This campaign is going to be epic!
His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.
The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?
You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.
Here we fucking go.
“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”
God he’s hot.
“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”
Assholes.
Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.
“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”
He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
You both let out a quiet chuckle.
All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.
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659 notes · View notes
celaenaeiln · 9 months
Text
Something fanon gets wrong
Dick Grayson is genuinely one of the greatest fighters in all of DC.
I know people have trouble believing this for some reason but a man who has defeated every single one of his enemies, other people’s enemies, and has consistently come out on top should have his abilities talked about a bit more because they’re amazing.
Let's start small to big. Firstly Donna talks about Nightwing's abilities.
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When I read this I was confused by what she meant. Prowess means skill or expertise and that makes sense but Dick has a lot of power behind him though...
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And then I realized she meant metaphysical power.
Dick isn't a magician. He can't run at supersonic speeds, throw buildings, speak to animals, communicate with the dark, fly above the clouds, bounce bullets off his chest (Oh, wait. He can do it off his ass instead never mind), turn into animals, or other amazing abilities. But his skill is so high that he is easily able to keep up with people who can.
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M'gann, the white martian with extraordinary capabilities, tells Dick, "You are just a human, with no superpowers, yet you have consistently excelled throughout your career, despite being surrounded by godlike beings."
This is incredible.
We see Dick leading teams of superheroes and metas all the time and we take it for granted but we never acknowledge the immense power and skill he must have for him to be able to do this.
Repeatedly. Time after time. He outsmarts both his human allies and outfights his meta ones.
One of Dick’s greatest OP moments is when he takes down the entire Titans team -Gar, Raven, Donna, and Jason too when he hung around with them- single handedly. And when Jason put a gun to the back of his head in supposed victory, Dick opened his hand to let the golden bullets fall, gleaming in the light with the coldest line, “with these bullets?”
We all know how amazing Bruce is, but Dick is on Bruce's level.
No?
Okay, here's the evidence.
Dick has fought Azael in a sword fight to a standstill when Azael has beaten Bruce separately and Tim and Jason combined.
He has defeated Ra's in a sword fight and Ra's is one of the greatest swordsmen.
Sometimes he doesn't even need a sword to defeat a skilled swordsman.
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He's a League of Assassins member and we all know that anyone from the League of Assassins is never just good. They're excellent. The entire fight Dick is looking for Blockbuster and he's so capable and good at fighting the entire scene was like watching Thanos flick Captain America away vibes. He's not even looking at him when he smashes his foot into Shrike's face!
Most importantly, he has defeated Deathstroke
The greatest thing about Dick is he is able to defeat Slade at the peak of Slade's abilities. Slade doesn't need to be weakened for Dick to win.
Here's where people has some hesitance accepting Dick's abilities.
"Bruce has defeated Slade but Dick has never been able to!"
He literally has in Dark Crisis but I'll give you the lead up.
Dick can easily disarm Slade.
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He can predict Slade's moves ahead of time and properly counteract them.
He can go toe to toe with him and in one comic, they dance down a hallway, fighting, neither able to get the upper hand. The mercenary meta, considered by the US Government to be 1 of 2 greatest assassins (the other being Katana) isn't able to pin down and defeat a 20 year old despite his enhancements.
I left out the scene where Dick twisting Deathstroke's arm and smashing his face into a bedroom mirror despite being complete weaponless and in his civilian identity. No protection and no support. But it's another example of how Dick's poweress is much greater than people expect of him.
Of course there are panels where Dick has been defeated by Slade but Dick isn't 17/18 anymore. He isn't learning to fight without Batman hovering over his side.
Also there is a panel everyone references to when talking about Nigthwing losing to Deathstroke. This one.
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sure. okay. whatever. BUT WHY WON'T YOU SHOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT COWARDS?!?
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THEY DANCE-FIGHT LIKE THEY'RE ENEMIES IN A BALLROOM ON OPPOSING SIDES BUT CAN'T AFFORD TO LET ANYONE FIND OUT.
THIS IS SOME HIGH LEVEL JAMES BOND-RED NOTICE-MISSION IMPOSSIBLE- TYPE SHIT.
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"Close the hold, you morons! Close the--Guuk!"
That's Slade talking by the way. To his allies. Who do you think made him "GUUK!"?
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And here they were evenly matched.
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But Slade had to pull out bombs he had been saving for when other people came in order to defeat dICK AND HE STILL LOST BECAUSE DICK BESTED HIM.
Yup. Dick is just that good.
Nightwing defeated Bane
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Before you go into saying something like "it was a holographic construction." What the fuck difference does that make? Does a holographic construction alter the strength used by the enemy, change their fighting style, phase through when fighting, act dumber than the real deal? No, right? The fact is Dick broke Bane's back the exact same manner that Bane broke Batman's. All those scenes of Bane punching Nightwing around? Let me remind you that the guy snuck up on Dick. The second time Dick underestimated Bane's powers before getting ready to put in real effort before Batman interfered to take Bane for himself.
All those amazing scenes of him defeating enemies that we've scoffed at recently? They're just a continuation of what already is written. It's not new or unbelievable, it's expected.
Here's my final point. Dick has defeated all of the Justice League's enemies in one go.
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This is Batman/Superman comic where Kara gets infected so Dick as Batman sends her to the medbay while he tears down the Watchtower to save her. As in every single defense mechanism the Watchtower has, he demolishes it with his pure skill and abilities. Furthermore, the Watchtower defenses were enhanced by cyborg Superman to be lethal. To kill on sight.
Just. Phenomenal.
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He did it! He defeated all of them and made it to the electronic controls he was aiming for.
Another thing I want to point is Dick's strength is greater than what people assume it to be.
He's the world's greatest acrobrat and has a build fitting of that but the strength he packs in his body is equal to that of a meta. Maybe it's because of how he only fights with metas and has teammates that are all metas but he has raised his striking power to equal that.
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He shatters cyborg superman in one blow.
He can handle blows from meta humans in a way most others can't which suggests to me that he must've done some kind of training or have maybe increased pain tolerance or have the ability to backseat the pain so it won't affect his fighting. How many can take a hit and rise up the next second?
He's not metahuman. Batman must've done several tests because he also was amazed by robin Dick's poweress lol but really Dick is just extraordinary. Give him any enemy and he will garaunteed defeat them without using cheap tricks or surprise moves which is why he is one of the greatest. The only time people have gotten an upperhand on him is when he has been emotionally weakened. Emotionally. Imagine the absolute monster he would be if he controlled his emotions like Batman.
But I would never want him to though because his emotions are the reason why he's the light of DC.
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Text
It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 21] || [Chapter 22.5] || [Chapter 23]
Pairing: Ghost x Price || Price x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K cw: drunk kissing, cheating (mentioned) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we find out what happened in cardiff. i love vulnerable john.
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Chapter 22: What is it about you?
“C’mon, Boss, up you go.” Simon told him as he hoisted the man up to his feet by wrapping an arm around the small of his back, and tossing the other over his own shoulders.
“I don’t know how she could do that to me, Simooooon,” John’s words and feet dragged a bit and tripped over each other, uncoordinated due to the excess alcohol.
John was constantly self-sabotaging back then, feeling sorry for himself, mourning his relationship and the wife who took advantage of his common absences to justify her need to step out on him.
When John was sober and busy with work, he was still the same as always: deadly efficient, a good communicator, a great strategist…
But when they went on leave…
It left Simon having to be the one picking up the pieces. Simon’s moved to Cardiff from Manchester many years ago, not quite enjoying Hereford enough to want an off-base flat in the same city as the base, and, now that he’s separated, John’s also moved to Cardiff to stay on Simon’s couch.
Or it would be his couch if he didn’t get pissed every night and leave Simon fearing for his life and the fact he might vomit and suffocate in it in the night, so he carries him to bed every time. The bed might as well have been John’s at that point.
Somehow he was able to wrangle John back to his flat.
He helped the man get into his bedroom and lowered him into bed before he pulled off the beanie from his head, then his boots, tossing his legs onto the bed a bit aggressively while the captain sobbed while lying back on the pillows…
“You’ll be alright, Captain.” Simon always tried to say some kind words to ease the drunk, heartbroken man, though he knew it did little.
Simon was strangely thankful Price was a sad drunk instead of an angry or violent one like his own father.
Simon bent over him to unzip his jacket and then was able to curl the man up against his shoulder in order to shimmy his jacket down his arms, like a toddler.
But something about that touch, almost akin to a hug, awoke something in John.
Just as he lowered the older man’s torso down to the bed and his head onto the pillows, he suddenly found himself unable to move, his shoulders being hugged tight by one of John’s arms.
His face was inches from John’s, their noses almost touching, their eyes locked. John’s blue irises were glassy from the alcohol and the tears.
The look in John’s eyes was freaking him out. He was still crying, but he was eerily quiet, not murmuring utter nonsense or pure vitriol for his wife and her lover…
The Mancunian tried to slip John’s arms off him. “C’mon.” He grumbled as he craned his neck back to try and wrangle off the embrace.
“Stay…” John pleaded, his eyes softening, his brows lowered pitifully.
“I’m right here, Boss.” Simon assured him as he once again tried to take Price’s arm off his vise-like grip around him.
It didn’t work. The grip just got tighter, his body trembling beneath Simon’s. “Please, stay...” He implored.
Before Simon could realize what was happening, his lips had been captured by John’s, a slow, tender thing, almost like John himself wasn’t 100% sure of what he was doing (and he really wasn’t) but wanted to do it nonetheless.
There was no tongue action, just a rubbing of lips and an exchanging of breathy sighs before Simon was smart enough to pull away, eyes a bit widened for what they had just done. 
But Price seemed like he was still on the verge of crying, teetering the edge of his fear of being rejected again. He just needed affection....
Simon’s own eyes softened as he saw the state Price was in. He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. Giving up on getting out of the embrace, he simply nodded. “Fine. I’m stayin’.”
Carefully, Simon toed off his own shoes and took off his fleece jacket. He tossed everything on the floor haphazardly, before he shifted around the bed in John’s embrace and vaulted over him, coming to lay on the other side of the bed.
John cuddled up to Simon’s body and, tentatively, the blond wrapped his arms around Price’s shoulders and neck as the brunet sunk in the embrace and hid his mustachioed face in Simon’s neck, big burly arms wrapped around the narrower part of his waist.
Price resumed his sobbing, hidden in Simon’s arms, hugging him uncomfortably tight, like a lifeguard buoy in open water. 
Simon ran his fingers over John’s hair, caressing his scalp with his fingertips. “Not going anywhere, John, I promise.” Simon assured him.
-
It’s 10 P.M. and you’re just turning off your TV to move your lounging to the bedroom when the doorbell rings.
Once again, you’re not expecting anyone… But the lads have gotten much better at warning you in advance when they’re dropping by… So it puts you on edge again.
Tip-toeing to the intercom, you murmur into the receiver. “What?”
“It’s John, darling.” The voice of the older man comes through, causing your eyes to widen. What’s he doing here? 
You buzz him in all the same. Only once you hear his knuckles rapping the door, do you open it, finding him standing on the other side.
He’s wearing an army green fleece jacket, a black hoodie, tan cargo pants, and black boots. And he doesn’t look particularly happy.
You let him inside and he has the decency to take off his boots, jacket and beanie, before he gestures you both onto the couch.
The memory of the way he kissed you and tossed you both down onto it last time he was here comes flowing back and you look away and take a breath to suppress it.
“The lads told me about the four of you” He tells you as he looks at you, sitting by your side, your knees just barely brushing, his hands clasped together and hanging between his thighs.
“They did?” You ask him, earning a nod in reply. “You didn’t know this whole time?” You ask again.
“No.” He says simply. “And they didn’t tell you I tore ‘em a new one for what they’re doing?” He returns. 
You shake your head, which makes him sigh. “Figured as much.”
“You need to know that-”
“I promise I don’t-”
You both cut each other off and blink away the confusion before you do that weird shimmy of trying to let the other talk.
He ends up taking the initiative. “You need to know that it’s puttin’ ‘em all at risk to be seein’ you and each other, especially each other. Simon’s my second-in-command… and it’s against the code of conduct for ‘em to be with their ‘boss’.” He explains.
His explanation makes your eyes soften and you look away with a sigh, mirroring his pose and letting your hands hang between your legs. “I didn’t know it’d get ‘em in trouble…” You explain.
Taking another deep breath, you shift around in your seat. “I was about to say I promise I don’t want to get them in trouble or steal them from work or making you have to call like… dozens of times again to get them to come in, because I know that was bad, even if it was an accident but-” You rant a bit.
John’s watching you closely as you justify yourself and them and promise you have the best of intentions, how you like them all so much and you could never dream of getting them in trouble and…
“What is it about you?” He interrupts you, causing you to face him suddenly and stare at him.
“Pardon?” You ask him, blinking slowly before raising your brows.
“Why… Why them? All of them?” He asks.
Your face scrunches a bit, your brow setting over your eyes. “Are you trying to insult me? That feels insulting.” You grumble.
He sighs and shakes his head, before rubbing his eyes with his middle finger. “No. I- I’m sorry.” He says as earnestly as he can. “Just trying to understand.”
“Some people have a thing for men in uniform but that means they date multiple of ‘em across a number of years… They don’t usually form a… harem with ‘em all at once.” He explains.
The idea of a harem makes your face flush warm and look away. “I don’t know.” You reply directly. “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.” You say directly. 
John keeps staring at you as you speak. “I went from a very unfulfilling relationship, I don’t know if I ever mentioned that to you-”
“You did, at the pub.”
“Right, well…” You trail off. “I went from that to… being alone… and then to having a one-night stand with you and then… it was like I woke up one day and had three boyfriends.” You remark and scratch your arm awkwardly.
John’s face scrunches, his mouth disappearing beneath his mustache as he keeps looking at you closely, noticing how awkward you seem. 
“I really don’t want to get them in trouble…” You tell him as you glance up at him, the corners of your eyebrows lowering as you look at him.
He goes quiet for a moment, simply making eye contact with you, as if trying to read your intentions through your pupils.
Then, his hand reaches across the space between you and he gently cups both your hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You really like ‘em all, don’t you?”
“Mhm.” You reply and nod.
Sighing, he nods. “Just try to keep from kissing in public to a minimum, will ya? Don’t need the brass knowing and having my arse too.” He tells you.
Smiling and chuckling again. “Wouldn’t you, in that case, be in more trouble because you started this whole thing?” You joke.
He nudges your thigh with his knee and rolls his eyes playfully. “Don’t you start, too… I already had to deal with Soap, Gaz and Ghost making comments.” He complains.
“Oh, please… Ghost told me all about how peppy you seemed after that night you spent with me.” You retort and he rolls his eyes again before he taps his thighs with his palms and stands up off the couch.
“I needed it. Did me good.” He replies as he moves back to the door and puts his shoes on.
You follow after him, watching him closely as he puts his outdoor clothes back on. “Did me good too.” You reply.
He chuckles a bit. “Oh, trust me, darlin’, I remember fully well how ‘good’ I did you.” He jokes and winks at you.
“Oh, shut it…” You grumble as you watch him open your door and stand just outside of it, looking at you closely.
“Shame it’ll never happen again. I could’ve used a repeat.” John quips casually. “Have a goodnight.” He kisses your temple and starts walking down the hall.
“Wait, hold on!” You interrupt him, causing him to stop a few feet away, looking at you in the brightly lit hall. Clearing your throat, you swallow dryly before you lock eyes with him and speak again: “What’s stopping it from happening again?”
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FLASHBACK FULLY INSPIRED BY:
taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
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sonarspace · 23 days
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recharge, suguru geto
a/n: based off a request from a friend. hope you like this bae <3. (not proofread!) content: suguru x reader. suguru’s clingy. fluff. wc: 1.1k
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. suguru comes home late at night. stress evident on his face as you try to greet him like you usually do but he’s dismissive. not even a proper peck and he’s pulling away from you and going straight to the bedroom.
it hurts him more than it hurts you when he behaves like this. he wishes he could talk to you but he’d just end up breaking down and he’s tired of having you see him like this. he should be strong for you, shouldn’t he? you’re not in this relationship to take care of him constantly and get nothing in return. so he pushes you away.
he hopes you understand why he’s being so distant. and you guess he wants his space so you give it to him. but you also can’t just leave him alone so you tread carefully. you know he think he’s being selfish but you don’t mind it. he doesn’t realize it but he’s been there for you countless times taking care of you and being patient with you when all you want to do was rot in your apartment. so you try to do the same.
you give him his space. let him sleep alone in your shared bedroom. he lays in bed waiting for you to join him but he doesn’t know how to ask for it after he was so dismissive with you earlier. he huffs annoyed at himself and falls asleep yearning for your warmth.
the sun shining brightly through the opened curtains wake him up. absentmindedly he reaches out to hide his face in your neck but you’re not there. your side of the bed untouched and cold. eyebrows furrowed he walks out of the bedroom but you’re nowhere to be found. a throw blanket laid across the couch confirming his suspicions that you let him sleep alone. i mean he kinda asked for it, didn’t he? shit. did he really hurt you?
just as he’s about to grab his phone to call you he hears the jingle of keys unlocking the door. a shiver of relief runs over his body and he lays back in bed before you can see him. you set the groceries on the countertop and go into your bedroom to check if suguru’s woken up yet.
“suguru,” you softly call out his name. his heart clenches. he wishes you’d come over and touch him so he could use his sleepy state as an excuse to pull you closer. “hmm,” he groans. and when you finally lean down and lightly brush his bangs off his face he nuzzles his cheek into your palms.
you soft callouses kissing his cheeks. your fingers rub over his skin softly. and he’s so happy to feel your touch. “wake up, sleepyhead. let’s eat something.” you whisper planting a kiss near his ear.
you feel his arms around as you flip dora cakes. “feeling better?” you ask him. instead of replying he just nuzzles his nose into your neck causing you to slip out a sweet giggle. he covers the skin of your shoulder in kisses. his hands slip under your tank, scratching lightly at your abdomen.
he stays attached to your back as you try to move around the kitchen to plate your breakfast. you wonder what changed overnight to have him this clingy but frankly you don’t mind it. it’s better than him shutting you out.
“suguru,” you huff playfully but he doesn’t let go. he clicks his tongue in disagreement when you separate your food in two plates. “what?” you turn your head slightly to look at him. “same plate.” his voice muffled as he speaks into your neck. “okay,” you smile.
you’re so beautiful he thinks. his heart skips a beat at the way your smile enhances your features even more. he never wants to make you sad.
you cut up a piece and bring it up to his mouth, tease him with the food every time he opens his mouth. he grabs your hand to keep it still and takes a bite. you both take turns feeding each other sometimes letting out breathy laughs but mostly silently gazing in to each other’s eyes filled with love.
he spends the day crowding your space. his head in your lap as you answer emails on your laptop. he turns in your lap so he can face your stomach. his finger moves under your top pulling it higher and he pokes into your bellybutton and giggles when you let out yelp. he places a few kisses on the expanse of your exposed skin. from the left side of your hips to the right covered in his love. he even follows you the bathroom and waits outside until you’re done.
he grabs your face as soon as your out and places a desperate kiss on your lips. you kiss him back with the same fervor. you’re both walking back until he falls onto the bed pulling you with him and you break apart with a laugh. your head tipped back and laughing has him laughing as well. he moves in closer as you both quiet down.
“i’m sorry for last night,” he starts. “suguru, it’s o-“ you’re about to say until he places a finger onto your lips to stop you from talking. “no baby. it’s not okay. you should call me out if i’m being an asshole, okay? please baby. i wanna be better for you.” he tells you. and you just smile against his lips “okay, sugi. next time you don’t kiss me when you come in thru the door you’re getting a smack on your ass.” you joke. “i’m serious darling,” he says. “and don’t ever leave me alone in bed. and don’t sleep out on the couch if it’s not with me.”
“yes sir,” you tease making him smile. having had enough of your teasing he grabs your hands in one of his and pins them above your head. he comes in close and you ready yourself for a kiss until you feel his other hand tickling your sides and your burst out of laughing.
you manage to free your hands from his grasp and try to stop him “okay stop okay okay,” you say between laughs. he places kisses under your ear and over you jaw and neck as as you calm down from your laughing fit
“i love you. thank you for keeping up with me,” he tells you seriously. “i love you too, suguru.” you respond with a smile. and a beat later you whisper, “the sex makes it worth it,” eliciting a loud laugh from him.
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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violetrainbow412-blog · 8 months
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Birthday wishes [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Word count: 6.4k
Summary: everyone seems to forget Spencer's 30th birthday, but he only cares that you remember it.
second part here!
contents: childhood best friends, idiots who-don't-know-they're-in-love, surprise parties, pure fluff honestly
If you like my work leave a comment or reblog, that would make me very happy!
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The first thing Spencer did when he got home was get rid of his converse and even though it had been a relatively calm day he was exhausted, so he went straight to the bedroom to throw himself on the bed. He lay back for a while, just enjoying the calm, and then he fumbled for the cell phone in his briefcase. He hit the call button on the contact he'd wanted to talk to all day and then he waited patiently.
“L/N family residence, who do you want me to contact you with?”
"Hello, is Miss Y/N by any chance?"
"Who's looking for her?" you continued and a smile escaped from his lips. It was usual for you to respond in a silly way when he called you, so he was used to it by now.
"Her best friend, Dr. Spencer Reid"
“Spencer Reid? Spencer Reid, I don't think that sounds familiar…” you teased, hearing him snort from the other end of the line “Ah! Wait, I remember you."
“After knowing each other for like 20 years, I hope so” he laughed, and then you too.
Sure enough, the man and you were friends from a very early age. You were his neighbor when he lived in Las Vegas and your parents had always been quite nice to the family, knowing the delicate situation they faced, so it wasn’t difficult for you to become friends. You were the first friend he ever had, a real one, so there was a special fondness between you, even when he had gone off to college at such a young age and distance had subsequently separated the two of you.
You always called each other and every time he visited his mother it was a law that you also received a visit, even if the time was only enough for you to greet each other with a hug. You also traveled to DC a few times because of your work and you even had your own key to his apartment, so if he was busy with a case, you could stay there instead of paying for a hotel. Your relationship was like that of a brother and sister, although as this familiarity grew, it was slightly intervened by loving feelings that you didn’t want to face yet but were definitely there.
You knew a lot about his life from those long-distance calls that happened at least once a week, and right now he was excited about something in particular. He was exactly one week away from his thirty-year birthday, and he hoped that, like every year, you would fly from Las Vegas to see him. It was a tradition, whether it was thunder or lightning, you two hadn't missed a single birthday from the other since he had to move out of state. So Spencer was hoping that this call was for you guys to plan what you were going to do; regularly your birthdays were in restaurants or nice places and his were at home, with food delivery and classic movies, or when you felt very adventurous you could go to a museum or just walk through the streets.
"How are you, Reid? How is everything?"
"Not so good, but not so bad either" he laughed "And you?"
"Everything has been terrible, it's like a curse is on my head, I swear" you complained. Spencer got up from his comfortable position to sit on the bed and although he knew that most of the time you said things like that you were just exaggerating, this time he had a bad feeling.
"Why?”
You started to tell him about the financial problems you were going through and he, with his mind still focused on your visit, thought about offering to pay for your flight to DC, but his spirits fell completely when you told him that you were being put under too much pressure at work.
“We're going to have a meeting next Friday with HR to discuss responsibilities and so on, but honestly I don't think things will get better. Right now I'm working from home because there are pending issues that have to be resolved as soon as possible and I barely have time to think during the day, you seriously can't imagine how busy I've been.”
When you finished the story, he remained silent, feeling his chest squeezed by the direction that things were now taking. With that scenario, your visit was too complicated and he was debating internally about whether he should tell you something about it or not. As he had thought before, the money to have you with him wasn’t a problem, but dealing with the issue of your shortened times was totally different. He didn't want to make you feel guilty for not being able to go, let alone disrupt activities that he knew were important to you, like that meeting you just mentioned. So what should he do? He wanted you to be there, but he wasn't going to make you.
“Crash? You still there?" you asked. Only you and his mother called him that, since his nickname had arisen when he was just a child due to his clumsiness, a trait that, in your opinion, he still retained. It wasn't offensive coming from you, even he was glad to know that this was something that belonged to the two women he loved the most.
"Yes, I'm here. I just was thinking"
"You always do, I don't think there's a single second when that mind of yours rests," you said amused "Anyway, what's new?"
Spencer hoped that you would at least apologize to him for your future absence or ask him what he intended to do today. But you seemed not even aware of it.
“Nothing, really. Today we're done with a case and if I'm lucky I'll be able to rest this weekend” he murmured. Sometimes he would tell you things about the cases, omitting bloody and dangerous details, so he leaned back and started recounting all the events into the speaker of his phone.
You two continued to talk for almost an hour, but the topic of the birthday didn't come up once and Spencer didn't try to bring it up. After all, there were still a few days to go and in the worst case, you could at least call him that day to congratulate him, right?
But as the days went by, the anxiety ate him more and he even called you a few days after that, but he only received a response from your mailbox and after a few minutes a short text message where you explained that you were a little busy with work, but that you would call him as soon as you could. The fact that during those days he found out that the entire team already had something to do on Friday didn’t help his mood too much.
Hotch and JJ discussed a sleepover for Henry and Jack after work, he overheard Garcia and Morgan agreeing to visit a new bar for the night, Rossi said he was going to visit one of his ex-wives and when he thought he could still invite Emily to hang out, she went over to talk to him about the therapist appointment that she clearly didn't want to go to, but had to. There was no remedy, everyone had plans for his birthday and he didn’t want to interfere with them. Resignation was the only thing the doctor had left during the remaining days, and when he least expected it, the entire week had already passed.
He used to wake up to your off-key version of the birthday song and a cupcake with a candle stuck in it, then you'd make breakfast and you'd eat it together; so not having any of that when he got out of bed, he felt his heart break a little. This year he thought he would get your call first thing in the morning, but when he checked his phone he didn't even find a message announcing that there was a case. He didn't want to go to the office to do paperwork on his birthday, but the thought of at least getting a hug from his coworkers cheered him up slightly.
He put on his favorite shirt, a new pair of pants, and the converse that you had given him and he only wore on special occasions, before leaving the apartment. For some reason Spencer enjoyed taking the subway, perhaps more than anyone he knew, and this time he stopped at a coffee shop that was just before arriving to buy something to drink, since he didn't feel like eating anything.
He undertook the entire trip lost in his thoughts and when he least expected it, he was already at the headquarters. He checked his phone, again, but he still didn't get any notifications or missed calls. Many times you had insisted that he get a more modern model and he had refused, but now he was wondering if the advances in technology would have allowed him to communicate with you through a video call. It would be embarrassing to ask Garcia for a favor, so he concluded that he would just wait, after all if he hadn't communicated it must have been for something important.
Upon entering, he greeted everyone with a huge smile and he felt somewhat disconcerted when the others greeted him normally, without hugs or cake on the table. He sat down at his desk to start going through the documents he already had and the others continued on their own business. It was common for Emily or Morgan to come up to him for a chat, but on this particular day it was as if they were avoiding him. Even Penelope, who he swore would congratulate him, seemed to have completely forgotten when he came to her place with the excuse of needing a piece of information from the previous case. When Hotch called him to his office, the man's eyes lit up, believing that his boss had remembered the celebration of the date.
"Can you do me a favor?" he had asked, without taking his eyes off whatever he was writing "Donovan needs to sort some files and honestly he has no idea how to do it and I'm too busy to explain, could you do it?"
Donovan was in charge of the physical file inside the building and it was not usual for him to request this kind of support, but Reid still said yes, and the rest of the day passed with him locked in a cellar full of filing cabinets. He had made sure to take his phone with him and every time he turned it on to check it and he realized that there was no sign of you his disappointment increased. He came to wonder if his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him and, for some incredible reason, he had gotten the day wrong and it wasn't really October 12; but when he saw the calendar, he verified that this wasn’t possible.
“Are you out of punishment yet?” Emily taunted, when after many hours she saw him again by the bullpen. At another time Spencer would have laughed, but right now his mood wasn't quite right for it and he just looked at her, more hostile than he intended. “Hotch left you some documents on your desk, he asked if you could review them before you go. It's urgent,” she informed him.
It was obvious that this would take time and he felt like crying at the thought of having to stay longer than the regular time. It was almost an hour after everyone else had gone home that he finished, feeling somewhat annoyed to find out that even Aaron had already left.
He doubted whether to go home or go to dinner somewhere, because he knew that if he returned to the apartment he would sink into sadness. His birthdays didn't mean anything special on their own, what he liked was to feel loved, to enjoy the company, but above all to see you.
While he was leaving the building, and as if you were reading his mind, a call vibrated on his cell phone. Seeing that it was you, Spencer didn't take more than two seconds to answer, thinking that maybe after the whole day he could improve.
"You won't believe what happened to me!" you said, without even greeting him. It wasn't the kind of sentence he was expecting, but he still decided to listen.
"What happened?"
“There is a boy, at my work, his name is Brandon. Well, Brandon and I have talked a few times now and he seems like a nice person, plus he's pretty handsome and he finally asked me out on a date with him, can you believe it?" you murmured excitedly, and a lump formed in Spencer's throat "We're going out today, the meeting was canceled and we decided to take advantage of the time, but I can't decide whether to wear the red dress or the black and gold outfit that my mom gave me and I need the help of an expert. You have seen both, which one do you think suits me better?
Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing the situation she was going through, and it wasn't until you said his name that he reacted.
"I like your red dress," he murmured, with a sad smile that you clearly couldn't see. He couldn't believe you were going out with a man you'd never mentioned and it affected him more than he expected you to be asking for advice because a pang of jealousy shot through his chest.
You were telling him that you were going to have a date on his birthday.
“I thought the same! I guess that will be the best option."
"I guess…"
"Where are you now? At home?" you kindly asked. Your tone almost made him angry.
“I just got off work. I'm on my way to take the subway"
"Oh, excellent. Today there were no cases?"
"Not fortunately. I'm glad to know that the criminals at least respected my birthday."
With that said, there was a deathly silence between you, to the point where he wondered if you were still on the other end of the line or if you understood what he was implying.
“Spencer, my God, I…”
"It's okay if you forgot," he said, trying to play the matter down, but the tears that were beginning to accumulate in his eyes indicated otherwise. The guilty tone with which you had spoken was more than enough to know that, probably, if he hadn’t mentioned it, you wouldn’t have done it either "Nobody remembered it"
"I'm so sorry" you practically sobbed "Between all the work and stuff I... I don't even know why I forgot, forgive me”
"It’s okay" he replied. But it wasn't okay. 
“Can I do something to fix it? Whatever, you just… ask me what you want and I'll do it. I swear," you mumbled, sounding desperate.
He tried to convince you that there was no problem with it and you continued to pour out apologies, which Spencer knew were worthless now but he wasn't selfish enough to ignore them. He wanted to scream, cry, or do anything to get that weight off his chest and even though he loved the sound of your voice right now it was the last thing he needed.
“Anyway, I'm about to enter the subway and uh, I have almost no signal there. I'll call you later, okay?" the question didn’t wait for an answer, because he immediately added: "Good luck on your date, bye"
If he had considered going out to celebrate, he knew that now what he urgently needed was to go home or he would break down in tears in the middle of the street. The ride on the subway lasted longer than he would have liked, as he longed to go to sleep and find out if it would allow him to forget a bit about the shitty day he had just had. When he was finally in front of the door with the number 23 in gold letters, he struggled enormously to put the key into the lock, because the tears in his eyes were already clouding his vision, and he believed that the heaviness on his shoulders wouldn’t allow him to advance.
The key turned one turn, then another, and then Spencer was allowed inside the house.
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One week before…
The team was meeting in the conference room at the request of Penelope, who had asked everyone to stay after the scheduled time, waiting to receive the news of what they thought would surely be a new case.
"And Reid?" Morgan asked, noticing the empty chair next to him, because they had seen him leave and that was reason enough to have questions about his absence.
"I'm glad you asked because this meeting is related to him," Garcia replied. With the push of a button, a face appeared on the main screen and almost everyone present was surprised to see who it was "She is Y/N Y/L/N, do you remember her?"
"You were at Prentiss's funeral, right?"
"That's right" you replied with a smile, looking directly at the aforementioned "I still have a little trouble understanding, uh... that whole thing, to be honest" you joked.
"Y/N asked us for this space to discuss something related to Spencer's birthday, which will be next Friday" explained Hotch, who was the other member who was already aware of the matter "The microphone is all yours"
"Okay, so where do I start? It's great to see all of you and I hope you're doing well. Every year I visit Spencer on his birthday and we spend the day together, but since this year is his 30th birthday I wanted to do something special and I want to know if you would be willing to help me”
"Tell us your plan, precious"
“I don't intend to take up a lot of your time, it's simple. I will call him today to insinuate that this year I can’t go and all I want you to do is pretend that day that you don’t remember that it’s his birthday”
"Wait, why do you want us to ignore it?" JJ muttered with a frown.
"I want to throw him a surprise party in his apartment" you explained with a smile and then the request you were making to them didn't sound so farfetched "You can tell him you have plans that day and if he mentions something you just say you can't go. I bought my flight for that day and I will be in the city starting in the morning, so I can prepare everything”
"And how will we do if he invites us somewhere?"
Morgan suggested using a decoy for him and pretending they were taking him somewhere else, but you balked at the idea.
“I have all my hopes that he doesn’t mention anything. If so, we'll manage somehow. And I know that asking for that is difficult because we are all his friends, but if necessary, avoid him completely that day. We need him to know under no circumstances that we have a surprise for him."
“He is very smart and he will figure it out. If we make him believe that we forgot he will concentrate on that” you argued. Although the others didn't want to admit it, they knew that you had a point there "I just hope you don't have some unforeseen case or something like that, because I would hate for that lie to be for nothing"
You discussed some more until you concluded that your plan was the most viable. The girls would help you with ideas for decorations and David even offered to buy all the drinks. Although the others weren’t surprised by his generosity, you were slightly upset, but this didn’t prevent you from accepting the offer and thanking him in advance.
“It really means a lot to me that you guys help me, thanks” you murmured happily, once everything was settled, and then your phone started ringing in the background “It's Spencer! I have to answer him. If something happens, you guys will tell me, right?"
"Take it for granted" smiled Garcia, who was the one who had lived with you the most, but everyone supported her from the bottom.
"Fine, thanks everyone, thanks Agent Hotch, I'll see you later!" you said goodbye, hanging up the video call and simultaneously answering the phone.
Everyone got up from the conference room and Rossi was the first to speak, a smile on his face.
"Call me crazy..." he started to say "but something tells me that girl and Spencer are going to end up together"
"The pretty boy loves her, but he still doesn't notice it," Morgan laughed, as they all walked out. "Whenever we go to Vegas, his eyes shine when he sees her."
“And she's setting this up for him! It's so sweet" Penelope sighed, who had already taken Derek's arm "But the part about being mean to Spencer doesn't convince me much… he's going to be so sad"
"Look at it this way, babygirl: if he's sad he'll be happier than usual with the surprise."
"Nobody's going to screw it up," Emily threatened them, pointing her index finger at them, and the rest of the team promised they wouldn't.
Meanwhile, your first part of the plan was in the works, with the late-night call he had made to you. You had to admit that lying to your best friend was something you hated, but with any luck it would all be worth it when you could hug him and give him that gift that you had carefully kept on one of the shelves, that you hoped could be enough for such an important event like the first thirty years of life.
What happened during the week is history, which was consolidated at the moment he turned the handle without even imagining what awaited him.
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When Spencer walked through the door the first thing he did was turn on the light and he felt like he was going to have a heart attack when he heard the screams coming from inside. There were purple balloons scattered all over the floor, a congratulations banner, a table full of presents, and everyone was there.
The shock was such that he couldn't even manage to say a word and some of the tears that he had been holding back were finally able to come out, but this time for different reasons.
They hadn’t forgotten.
"How…? What are you doing here?"
“We came to celebrate your birthday, genius,” Morgan laughed, as he reached over to hug his friend and ruffled his hair brotherly.
A wave of hugs preceded that and even he received a couple of kisses on each cheek from Rossi, which finally made him laugh. He seemed like a child, completely fascinated with everything around him and still processing the situation.
In the midst of it all, he couldn't help wondering how his friends had been able to enter the apartment, since none of them had a copy of the key and the landlady was too suspicious to have let them in just like that, but he felt happy for the direction the day had taken.
“First of all, we have another surprise for you,” said JJ, obviously excited. The rest shared complicit glances and García began to record with his cell phone, which made him a little nervous "But you have to close your eyes."
Spencer looked at everyone else as if waiting for a confirmation of that, and seeing a couple of nods he did what his friend was asking. Just to make sure Jennifer covered his eyelids with her hands and in this way she turned him around, while he wondered what this surprise could be about.
"Are you ready?" she asked and the man answered yes with a hum. There was silence for a second, as if they were checking something, and then she withdrew her hand. "Open them."
Many possibilities went through the man's mind for whatever he would see at that moment, but when he did, he felt his heart stop for a moment. There you were, looking at him with a sweet smile and wearing that red dress. 
The rest of those present were waiting for who would make the first move, because the two of you had froze looking at each other, and García was only pointing the camera carefully as you had requested.
"Surprise?" you said shyly, noticing that Spencer hadn't said anything.
You were afraid that after the call you had he was upset with you in some way, but a second after he recovered from the shock he was already on top of you, holding you by the waist to spin you through the air while you laughed heartily.
"You came," he said, his voice cracking, but completely brimming with happiness.
"Of course I would, Spencer, do you think I'd miss your birthday?"
"But you... your work"
"All a vile lie"
"And that boy?"
“There was never such a thing,” you laughed, freeing yourself from the weight of guilt “You're my only boy,” you added affectionately, palms planted squarely on your friend's cheeks. He still had you in his arms and was grinning from ear to ear at your answers "I'm so sorry I told you all that, I just didn't want you to suspect anything, can you forgive me?"
"No!" he practically squealed and you widened your eyes in amazement “Today was the most terrible day because I thought you didn't care about me anymore, you made me suffer! All of you!" your friend complained, looking away from you briefly to look at those present.
"In our defense, she asked us to," Emily laughed, holding up both hands in surrender.
"You're so mean," he murmured, turning his attention back to you. "But I love you so much.”
A group sigh filled the room as he engulfed you in a hug and from your position you could see the teasing or tender smiles they all had. It wasn't very common to see the youngest of the team in that position, much less saying those things, plus we had to add the collective opinion that you were madly in love.
"Seriously, forgive me"
"It’s okay…" he whispered close to your ear "You're here, that's what matters"
His body felt so soft and safe that you didn't want to stop hugging him, but you knew that if you took too long it would create an uncomfortable environment for the rest, so you had no choice but to gently pull him away from you. The woman asked your friend, just to annoy him, if he liked his surprise and although he didn't say anything, the giant smile and flushed cheeks were enough of an answer.
"Come, you won't escape my melodious voice" you murmured after a few seconds, when the commotion calmed down a bit.
Taking him by the hand, you led him to the table where you had the chocolate cake with a couple of candles that formed the number 30. Everyone sang the song while the wick burned down and the boy looked anywhere, with that certain shyness characteristic of him. When he blew out the candle to make his wish, you all applauded and that started the celebration.
There were some appetizers on the table and Rossi had stocked all the drinks quite well, as he had promised. As the minutes passed you hovered here and there to check that things were in order, arranging everything as if it were your own apartment, and Spencer could only smile at how well you seemed to get along with everyone. The last time you'd seen the team was, sure enough, during Emily's funeral, but that didn't mean there wasn't some history between you.
He still remembered the feeling of shame when in the early years he had asked Gideon for permission to summon someone to the hotel during a case in Las Vegas. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you, but that he was ashamed of having to reveal something so important in his life to his FBI colleagues. The agent didn't object at all, but that didn't spare the man from being grilled by Derek and Elle about which mysterious lady their younger coworker was talking to. Over the years, people left the unit, and others joined, but the constant was always you. Even now, if a replacement happened, Spencer knew that the rest of the team would take it upon themselves to introduce you to said person. 
At some point he felt a tremendous nostalgia for that time and in a chain of thoughts he came to ask himself if working where he did was the right thing to do. Turning thirty was cause for celebration, but for him it was also tantamount to thinking how well he had lived up to the expectations of what he expected to have achieved at this age: How much progress should he have made in the world by now? Was it any use having that brilliant mind that everyone raved about if he was working in a government office? And what about his personal life? He wanted to get married at some point and wondered if he should be looking for love instead of criminals. Even while he was through all this, he wished he could focus on how happy his friends had made him instead of worrying about other things. 
"Up to here I can see the gears of your brain" laughed someone next to him. It was Emily "What's wrong?"
"Nothing" he murmured, shaking his head softly "I was thinking about some things, it's just that"
"You should drink some more, that wine that Dave brought tastes delicious" she smiled, inviting him to come closer to the others to chat.
It was a bit ironic, but completely understandable, that even at his own birthday party he would remain a bit oblivious to the situation. Following Emily's advice, he poured himself another drink and joined the other attendees to enjoy the moment. For hours you laughed and chatted, until the drinks were running out and your drunkenness rising.
The parents of the group were the first to leave and the last was a drunk Penelope who threatened to stay there to sleep, but Derek took it upon himself to guide her to his car to take her home. It was late at night when only you and Spencer were left, amidst all the decorations in the room.
"Peace and tranquility"
"It was too much?" you laughed, knowing that your friend could become overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle.
"No, no. Just kidding"
“And was it okay for you? You had fun?" you asked, referring to the party, as the two of you sat down on the leather couch. The dress you were wearing rose to the top of your thighs and his attention strayed there for a second, so he looked up guiltily; He didn't help the blush on his cheeks that there was your cleavage. 
"Everything was wonderful"
"Are you seriously not mad at me?" you insisted
"No, honey, I'm not," he laughed. You tried to ignore the fact that he had said that to you, since it wasn't something he was used to, and just smiled sheepishly, "I mean, at first I was a little, but now that I understand why you did it, I'm not anymore."
“You are already thirty… you are so old!”
"You are older than me!" he squealed, completely offended, and you responded with a laugh. Although that was true, you looked more jovial than the man, something that a variety of people had taken it upon themselves to verify.
"Now that I remember, do you want to see your gift?"
"Isn't this supposed to be my gift?" The confusion was evident in his voice and you refrained from answering, as you bolted into the room. You came back from there with a box in your hands, which you later placed on your lap with evident emotion.
“I wrapped it myself” you confessed, rather proud of yourself. You had found a piece of paper to cover with drawings of equations and small microscopes that you thought captured the essence of your friend and, of course, now that he had seen it, he had liked it a lot.
The man's fingers drummed the surface under your expectant gaze, and then he winced slightly.
"What's up?"
"I don't know, I think maybe I should open it later…"
"Spencer Reid!" you yelled. It was obvious that he was only joking with you and you knew that by the laugh that escaped his lips. 
Your friend opened the box almost ceremonially and then removed the tissue paper that covered the contents: above all there were two hardcover books, one about the world of fungi and the other about poetry, next to it an hourglass, then three boxes with jigsaw puzzles, a pocket chess game, packets of Reid's favorite sweets, and last but not least, a picture of the two of you in a pretty chocolate-colored frame and a little paper envelope to go with it. One by one he was taking out the gifts and his smile only grew with each object, while he felt his heart grow with love.
"I remember this day" he murmured, referring to the photograph you had chosen. The sky was blue behind you and you were kissing Spencer's cheek, who was smiling at how spontaneous it had been “We were in a park after going to an art exhibition."
“And we bought the most delicious ice cream in the world”
"I differ, I've had better," he murmured, shrugging. The truth is that you thought that the ice cream had been delicious because of the whole panorama of that day, not so much because of the taste itself.
Spencer knew that photo would have to go on his desk in the bullpen, although the taunts he was sure the others would throw at him. Perhaps having you there would serve as a reminder that there was good in the world, despite everything he could see on the job every day. 
“Oh, and I read somewhere that hourglasses help people with anxiety because it's relaxing to watch the sand fall so they can focus on it. I thought you might like it, I bought it at an antique store."
"It's very nice" he agreed, turning the object over and checking that it actually worked "I'll open the note, okay?"
Spencer always preferred that you read his letters in private because if he saw your face and knew you were reading those words he would just cringe, but you didn't seem to share that trait so you agreed to his request. As with the box, he carefully opened the envelope and then pulled out a handwritten note.
I hope you like these little gifts that try to express a huge love.
Never doubt that you are making a change in the world and that you are surrounded by people who love you, including your old neighbor who now ironically lives too far from you. 
Happy 30th birthday to my favorite person in the entire world. I am confident that many more years will come for both of us.
Always yours, Y/N.
"Don't cry, Reid" you asked gently, feeling your own tears at the edge of your eyes. Spencer smiled and leaned in your direction to wrap you in a hug so hopefully you wouldn't notice if he got emotional.
"Thank you" was the only thing he managed to say. 
He wanted to thank you not only for that day but for years of friendship, years of feeling like he wasn't so alone in the world if he had you by his side and even thank you for treating him like a normal kid when no one else did. And as always, you perfectly understood what he was referring to.
You stayed like that for a few minutes; Spencer tucked into the crook of your neck and cooing at the throbbing on your pulse line, and you basking in the warmth of the contact.
“Did you like the puzzles?” 
"Yeah! They are great” he replied, as he moved away from you so that he could observe you “Do you want us to put one together?”
“Sure” you smiled “Just let me put on my pajamas and I'll be right back, okay?”
"Good. You look very beautiful in that dress, by the way. I don't know if I forgot to tell you” he flattered you, making you smile sincerely. 
"You chose it, remember?"
Before getting up you kindly squeezed his cheek and after changing your clothes you returned to where you were. He had chosen the puzzle with the design of a Monet painting and spread it out on the floor, where the two of you settled comfortably.
Your friend took a bunch of pieces and you took another and you guys worked in silence until little by little things started to come together. He was very good at the task and very soon he already had a considerable part assembled; although you were going a little slower you followed a constant rhythm. 
"Hey, Spencer"
"Yeah?" he asked, too intent on finding a place for the piece in his fingers to watch you.
“What was your birthday wish? When blowing out the candles”
"Oh, I didn't wish for anything"
"Why?" you asked confused.
Spencer looked up from the puzzle and smiled at you.
"Because my birthday wish was already right here"
It seemed obvious to him, but it took you a second to understand exactly what he meant and when you finally did, your eyes gave him the sweetest look of all.
You and your friend stayed up all night until the play was over and after that you both stumbled to bed, where you fell fast asleep in each other's arms.
At some point Spencer half-opened his eyes, prisoner of a bad dream, and when he was aware of the situation he felt the peace he needed. After that it didn't take him long to get back to sleep, with a smile on his face and his whole world held in his arms.
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taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove
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risustravelogue · 6 months
Text
Scandalous (pt. 1)
Summary:
You have sex with your beloved in scandalous places.
Featuring:
Wriothesley, Alhaitham (separate), fem!Reader
Tags:
Filthy smut because why the fuck not :3 Semi-public sex, sex toy, double penetration, wall sex (Wriothesley), office sex, bookshelf sex (Alhaitham)
Note:
I'm celebrating my getting Wrio by winning 50/50 with... another smut. Hahaha. /bonked Alhaitham's part has been sitting in my drafts for so long hjksdfksl Also yes, I finally made character banners! Yay!!
This will be a multi-character series! Planned: Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Zhongli, Baizhu, Neuvillette
🔗 Series @ AO3 | masterlist 🔗
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For all his cunning and scheming ways, Wriothesley is ultimately a man of action. And the best part? He’s open even to the most outrageous ideas.
So when you shyly asked him if he wanted to try having sex outside of the bedroom, he pounced at the thought and planned everything the next morning—even going as far as telling the guards patrolling the room with the big window into the ocean that he will cover that area himself that night.
When you arrive at your rendezvous spot at midnight, he’s already waiting for you with a naughty smirk plastered across his lips. Humming, he closes the distance between your bodies. The way he’s kissing your lips with unbridled lust is somehow so much more sensual this time.
While his hands are busy slipping under your shirt and playing with your breasts, you unbuckle his belt and yank down his underwear to find his fat cock already hard and leaking from the thought of whatever dirty plans he has for you. After you wriggle out of your work pants, he lifts you up so easily, eliciting a delighted yelp from you as you wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, his shaft rubbing against your slick entrance whenever he takes a step.
“Where are you taking me?” you ask, giggling.
Your husband only chuckles in response as he walks into the moonlight. You feel your walls clench around nothing as you realize what he’s doing.
A soft thud accompanies the cold feeling of your back being pressed against the thick one-way window, the mix of pleasure and pain of his tip bullying its way into your deepest parts following shortly afterwards.
A muffled half-moan, half-protest escapes your throat as he finally enters you completely, his lips angled oh so perfectly against yours to shut you up. He moans against your mouth as he begins thrusting into your wet cunt, the dirty sounds—oh archons, all the dirty sounds—bounce against the metal walls and form echoes of his heated rutting.
“W-Wrio!” you complain, but you can feel your spongy walls clamping down on his thick length. “N-not so loud– ah– too loud–”
He laughs and smacks your butt while pinning you even harder against the window with his muscular body.
“My, my,” he tuts beside your face. The way his lips graze across the skin of your neck makes you shiver. “It’s like music to your ears, huh.”
More loud slaps of skin fills your ear as you come nearer and nearer to your climax. Alas, after a few thrusts, he stops moving.
”I almost forgot. I bought this for you,” he whispers.
Your eyes widen as he takes out a vibrator from his coat’s inner pocket.
“Aha, I see you like your present,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry… it’s nothing you can’t take. I’ve trained you so well, after all.”
“B-but–”
“Ah, ah, ah. No buts. We’re going to have so much fun tonight.”
You whine as he spreads your ass and slides the toy in. You bury your face in his shoulders, embarrassed from the fact that it goes in so easily due to your leaking juices.
“Ready, darling?” he says—but not giving you a chance to answer before he flicks the switch.
Incoherent mewls of pleasure echo through the air as your climax comes crashing like a tsunami. Wriothesley laughs as he moves his free hand to spread your thighs apart, practically pinning your right knee against the window to give him even more access to your deepest parts. You shudder from the feeling of his bushy pubes rubbing against your exposed clit.
“Don’t– I’ll cum–” you protest, but his sloppy kiss shuts you up.
“And what’s wrong with that?” he growls with a playful tone against your mouth. “You can scream however you want. Nobody’s going to head this way tonight, not when I’m… ‘patrolling’ this area.”
He starts grinding while fucking your ass with the vibrator. Your pleas for him to stop—it feels too good, you’re losing control—he answers with shushes and sadistic chuckles.
“Good,” he purrs. “Let go. Let it all out for me like the good girl you are, yeah?”
His moans grows louder with each thrust, and finally, he lets the vibrator go in favor of spreading both of your thighs apart so he can fuck you in earnest. The toy slides out of you and falls with a loud clang next to your husband’s feet, and you can hear a soft hum coming from it if you try to listen hard enough. Not that you can, of course—not when your beloved is making you cum nonstop.
“Ah– ah– Fuck, you’re so tight…” he groans. “So good… taking both my cock and the toy so well…”
His pace is punishingly fast now, but his stamina, built upon years and years of boxing, keeps his knees from giving way.
“Time for your present, darling,” he breathes. ”I’m gonna breed you nice and good, mark you inside with my cum– ghh!”
With a final kiss from his blunt tip to your cervix, he shoots his hot load into your womb, his whole body shuddering from ecstasy. Your fingertips dig into the fur of his coat as you try to muffle your scream of pleasure into his shoulder. He pants while peppering kisses onto your face, making you giggle. You whimper when his length slides out of you as he sets your legs down.
“Can you stand?” he asks. You nod weakly, pushing against his chest to try to stand on your own. Your eyes land on his still-hard cock as he takes off his clothes, abandoning them on the metal floor.
“You’re still hard,” you comment.
“So I am,” he chuckles. He takes your hand into his and leads you onto the aquabus.
“The seats should be comfortable enough for you to lay down,” he says as he pushes your thighs apart once more, pressing your back against the padded seats. His cock twitches against your folds as he plants a full kiss on your lips and whispers,
“Ready for round two?”
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You hate skirts.
Even so, you have to wear one today for an Akademiya event’s dress code. Your social battery has drained completely by the time lunch break comes, and you decide to hide in Alhaitham’s office. The face of the usually-stoic husband of yours visibly tenses when he looks up from his book and lays his eyes on you.
He gets up without saying a word, locks the door, and turns to you, a sigh escaping his lips.
“You look so cute wearing a skirt, you know that?” he says, a smile on his lips but a burning, carnal desire in his eyes. A predatory growl escapes his throat as he says in a low voice, “Makes me want to fuck you senseless until you’re nothing but a sweet, hot mess.”
He presses his mouth against yours, effectively pinning you against the office’s bookshelves. His fingers deftly unbutton your shirt, his left arm circling around your waist to keep your hips pressed against his. A muffled gasp and a muffled complaint escapes your throat when his hand slips under your bra and squeezes your breast.
You feel his fingers trail down under your skirt and tug on your underwear. His lips part with yours for a while as he takes the thin fabric off and throws it away, landing right on top of the stack of papers on his desk. As his lips crash onto yours again, you reach down to his belt, unbuckle it, and pull down the straining fabric of his pants, freeing his erect cock from its restraints. His hands find their way to your bare buttocks, and eventually trail downward to the back of your thighs. A yelp escapes your throat and your arms instinctively wrap around his neck when he lifts your legs and keeps them apart, exposing your folds to his hard shaft. He lets out a groan of approval as he grinds his hip against your slick-coated pussy.
“Dear me,” he chuckles, “how long have you been this wet?”
You moan as he moves his hips forward, his hot length pressing against your entrance. “Answer me,” he orders.
“I–” you gulp, “I’ve been imagining this ever since I’ve put on this skirt.” He moves his hips again, his throbbing cock now pressing against your clit.
“Mmm… such a naughty wife,” he purrs. “That doesn’t answer my question, though.”
You whimper as you feel him grind against you. “I don’t know,” you breathe, your fingers digging into his skin. “P-please…”
“Perhaps… you need some help,” he hums. “Knowing you, you must have been wet ever since that pretty mind of yours conjured an image of me fucking you against the bookshelves like this,” he thinks out loud, his voice almost a whisper in your ears. You moan as he grinds his hips again. “Bookshelves… that means House of Daena. You’ve been wet ever since you entered the library, yes?” he chuckles.
“Y-yes,” you say, voice trembling from arousal.
You whine when you feel his cock pressing against your slit more insistently. “Tsk, tsk, darling. You’re nothing but a dirty—”
He grinds, and you whimper.
“—little—”
Another grind, and his tip is now at your entrance.
“—slut!”
With a thrust, he buries his length deep into you, his hips slapping against yours. A scream involuntarily escapes your throat as you shudder in pleasure.
“Shh… people will hear if you keep that up,” he warns, a chuckle underlying his tone.
“Yes… I– I’m sorry–”
Someone knocks at the door, cutting off your words. Alhaitham groans.
“What is it?” he says to whoever is outside.
You hear a muffled voice from the other side of the door. “I heard a scream. Is everything okay?”
“See?” he whispers, planting a kiss on your neck. “Everything’s fine,” he says with a louder voice. “Falling books, that’s all.”
“... If you’re sure, sir,” the voice says with hesitation, then walks away in fading footsteps.
Alhaitham turns back to you, a sadistic glint in his eyes.
“Now… where were we? Oh, right,” he mutters. “You, my dear wife, are a slut—but you are my slut, so I’ll be light on the punishment,” he hums, planting teasing kisses all over the side of your neck and collarbone.
“Or–” he pulls back, his half-lidded verdant-vermillion eyes looking right into yours with barely-contained lust, “—would you rather I go rough on you instead, hmm?”
You feel a shiver rippling through your skin as you feel your walls clench around his cock. A smile grows on his lips at your wordless response.
“I already know your answer,” he says while gently kissing your lips. “But I’d like to hear you put it into words.”
“I– ah–“ you stammer, suddenly very aware of the feeling of your husband’s thickness filling you up. You struggle a bit, prompting him to tighten his grip on your thighs.  “I… I want–”
Your words disappear into thin air with a gasp when he starts grinding against you, the squelching wet sounds filling the air.
“Come on, love. You can say what you want from me,” he teases, his lips grazing your jugular. “Say it,” he whispers.
“P-please fuck me,” you breathe. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk straight,” you finally say, your voice trembling and pleading.
He presses his lips against yours while humming. “My sweet, sweet heart… I love it when you’re so honest,” he says. The lust seeping through the low undertones of his voice sends shivers all over your body.
Hmm… maybe wearing a skirt more often wouldn’t hurt, after all.
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