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#i don't touch this blog for more than a year and i come back with this
kprdotexe · 6 months
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Hello. Are you going to write your opinion on Tagatha?
I have no clue how old this ask is. Imma be so honest, I'm only now learning how this system works but YEAH SURE I'LL TALK ABOUT TAGATHA
haven't touched the books in a hot year or so but i remember some spirit waking up inside me and making a google slide so i have guidance, let's allow my brain to catch up as i read this.
Disclaimer, I think the book should have ended at 3. I think any further kinda rips away the happy ending those three had so my opinions are that of the first three books.
Now, I enjoy a good enemies to lovers as much as the next person but my _god_ did I not like it with Tagatha at all. They just never seemed to really get each other??? The constant bickering was never really cute to me and maybe I just need to reread it, but it always seemed like their romance was very surface deep.
They were both kids— teenagers basically at this point in the story both in societies that glorified one side and villianised the other, so their opinions and way of going about things reflected that. Honest to god? Great set up, didn't like the execution. I feel like it's because it never felt like Tedros was even meant to be a love interest in the first book.
Tedros had a lot of good traits to him in the first book (heck, mans became my favourite character when I started writing him because I found him and his story really interesting) but he just never felt like a person to me at that point. It never felt like this love story that made me want to ship them, it just... set the stage of everything really well.
He was there to be an obstacle, at least to me! One of the many things Sophie had been dreaming of her whole life but then couldn't have. From a technical stand-point, I could only imagine Tedros and Agatha being together to further add to Sophie's anomosity and jealousy and further show that the girls were in the right schools.
Agatha was a princess, in her Good School with her Prince who she would then marry and make her a Queen. Agatha was meant to be the best, both because she obviously was and to give a good subversion of tropes, and Tedros fit the bill.
And maybe that's the intention and if so, okay! but it never appealed to me as all.
Their original relationship felt a fair bit rushed as well. While confidence in a person does make them more attractive, does it really just erase all the previous history they had?
Like okay, if we're relying on Tedros just being a himbo and focusing more on the pretty face (something I despise mind you) alright, fine but Agatha? She also lets bygones be bygones, forgets all the valid arguments and the reasonable dislike she had for Tedros? Seriously?
Their dislikes of the other were valid! And even when they did good things or things that kinda went against what they thought, how would they be sure y'know? They never talked. Never had a moment where they sat down and just tried to understand each other and that was highkey the worse part of it all.
I always thought it'd be something nice to have the two learn from each other, or rather grow with the other because they both have very harsh views on the other gender— based on upbringing both harsh and limiting but they always just fell back into the habit of just assuming the worse of each other. And maybe I'm too aro for this and maybe the book is just a product of the time (I still didn't like it then though) but I never got the arguing like a married couple thing.
Why is that cute? Like yeah, sometimes spending time with one another can have you learning new potentially annoying things about each other that you dislike but my god, not a scrap of understanding out of either of them? I guess that's how you can tell they're young.
The worst part of their bickering as well is they never actually work through a good few of their issues! The plot (or the Storian, I suppose) just moves them along to the next thing so they have to work together and thank god they can manage that at least.
In the grander scheme of things, it just sucks for the both of them! They're kinda just nudged towards each other by fate and just stuck together because the Omniscient Magic Pen said they were meant to be and they just rushed into it.
So, that's my opinion on them. I like them both! But I just don't ship them. Honestly, I think they belong with other people. (Maybe prioritise some healing from past trauma and deconstruction of some core beliefs before yall jump into relationships but that's just me.)
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sundrop-writes · 3 months
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Careful - Chapter One
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter One: Over Yet
We can go farther, beyond the end.
Summary:
You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.
That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.
Word Count: 5,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?
A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.
...
The team had been in Portland for three days.
No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 
A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 
“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 
He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 
Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 
Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 
Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 
They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 
“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 
She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 
“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 
“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 
“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 
“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 
Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 
“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 
“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 
“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 
“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 
“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 
“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 
He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 
“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 
“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 
“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 
“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 
“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 
Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 
“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 
Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 
“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 
She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 
“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 
“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 
“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 
“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 
This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 
“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 
“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 
“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 
“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 
“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 
Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 
“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 
Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 
“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 
“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 
A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 
“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 
“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 
“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 
“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 
“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 
“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 
“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 
“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”
“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 
“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 
“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 
“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 
… 
The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 
After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 
So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 
“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 
“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 
Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 
You had a son. 
A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 
And his birth date was… fuck. 
He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 
One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 
Four years, eight months, and two days. 
It wasn’t difficult math. 
Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 
His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  
Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 
Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 
He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 
What the fuck was going on? 
There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 
Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 
“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 
Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 
“Did you find something?” 
… 
All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 
So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 
It could definitely work. 
When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 
So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 
“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 
“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 
He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 
“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 
JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 
Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 
Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 
The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 
But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 
Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 
It had been four years. 
JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 
“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 
“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 
“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 
“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 
It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 
“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 
“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 
“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 
“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 
“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 
It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 
“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 
There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 
She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 
So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 
“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 
Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 
“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 
That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 
“One thing at a time, alright?” 
When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 
It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 
Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 
He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 
And now the two of you likely had a child together. 
Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 
“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 
She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 
He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 
He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 
Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 
At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 
You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 
Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 
But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 
He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 
“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 
You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.
So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 
You were breath-taking. 
“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 
You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 
Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 
The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 
… 
He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 
It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 
It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 
Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 
It was a perfect night. 
Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 
His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 
And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 
“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 
You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 
“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 
Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 
“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 
“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 
Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 
“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 
“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 
Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 
“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 
Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 
“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 
“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 
You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 
“Interesting.” You replied. 
“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 
Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 
“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 
Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 
“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 
“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 
“And see-” 
Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 
He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 
It was perfect. You were perfect. 
You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 
But Spencer was nothing like that. 
He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 
When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 
“That was… wow.” He sighed. 
“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 
“Well, I - you - wow.” 
It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 
Back then - everything had been perfect. 
He had no clue where it all went so wrong.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar
2K notes · View notes
m-ayo-o · 6 months
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big brother choso
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18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT as with all my posts + entire blog thanks <3 ~gross smut ! stepcest, sister is written kinda immature but obvs over 18, fingering, sexxx
Big brother Choso, who always comes home late and exhausted- all he wants to do is take his hair down and run himself a bath.
Big brother Choso, who didn't realise his step sister was still awake until you tiptoe into the bathroom, seeing him stripped naked and plunging into the hot water.
You look so excited as you ask him~
"Choso, Choso, big brother, can I come in too?"
Big brother Choso, who at first refuses to let you in the bath with him after what happened last time. He tried so hard not to touch you, but the way your legs spread open just invited him to rub up your thighs to find your clit, telling you he wants to make you feel good.
"No, little sister. Would you like to wash my hair instead?"
Big brother Choso, who hates to see his sweet sister disappointed, so he lets you wash his hair and after some more begging, he caves and allows you into the tub.
Big brother Choso, who watches you take off your skimpy pyjamas, revealing your womanly figure as you sink into the hot, bubbly water with him. Although you're a couple of years younger than him, he thinks he could learn so much from you; from your body. He sighs with relief, feeling your warm back pressing up against his chest.
Big brother Choso, who holds you still to stop any of your mischief- he knows you fidget and wiggle like that on purpose.
Big brother Choso, who gets flustered when you ask him so sweetly~
"Please, Choso, will you clean me?"
Big brother Choso, who gives in to your whining and helps to wash you, massaging the soap over your body.
Big brother Choso, who only wants to look after his sister, but you can't help but take advantage of his kind and confused demeanor. You lead him on, guiding his hands over your skin, to places where he really shouldn't be touching.
He's not sure if it's wrong. It's not as if you're related directly, from the same womb. He's just always cared for you- and now you're older, he supposes it's ok... to grab at your boobs a little, under the guise of cleaning you there, then slip his big hands down your tummy, gently parting your legs.
Big brother Choso, who hums softly in your ear when he accidentally brushes his fingers over your folds.
"Big brother, that's my-"
"I need to clean you there, too."
He tells you that's what good big brothers do for their sisters.
"O-ok, like last time?"
"No, a little different."
This time he needs to get inside you. He teases your entrance then slowly slots his fingers in, feeling your hot and wet fluid coat up to his knuckles.
Big brother Choso, who groans when you start rubbing against his cock to the rhythm of his gentle pumping, till he's rock hard and sliding up your back.
"Big brother, what's that?"
Big brother Choso, who knows you're only pretending to be naïve. You've seen his cock like this before; all hard and leaky. You know what it means.
"Sister, just stay still."
He keeps fingering you and touching your little clit till you're crying for your big brother to make you finish. You just need that release... but he needs it too.
"Sister, do you trust your big brother?"
"Y-yea I do~"
"Ok, let me do something for you-"
Big brother Choso, who's losing himself now... telling himself that it's okay, kidding himself that you won't hate him for this... sliding his fingers out to replace them with his cock.
It's so much bigger, you let out a yelp. He struggles and you're crying and whimpering that you've never done it and it hurts and you don't know if big brothers really should be doing this with their sisters.
But he tells you it's okay and wraps you up in his arms, pulling you down till his fat tip is kissing your cervix.
Big brother Choso, who doesn't notice the water getting lukewarm now his body is burning up from using you like a fleshlight.
"I'm helping you, sister. I want you to know what it's like- with boys, before you leave me."
"I, I have to leave?"
"No, no," he kisses your neck and shoulders, "if you love big brother just stay here with me."
Big brother Choso, who's afraid his step sister might get fed up with his perverted tendencies one day... but he knows, now his cum is starting to surge and spurt out into you, that you're his for now.
"Little sister, I have to clean you again- oh, I've made such a sticky, wet mess inside you, I'm sorry-"
"It's okay Choso, w-will you clean me with your tongue?"
"Yes, little sister, bend over and show me- oh that pussy is stuffed full- oh, so pretty, let me, let me- mmhnn~"
Big brother Choso, who is so glad to know you're not innocent at all, and that perhaps you're quite perverted like him.
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jjk | m.list
2K notes · View notes
lanadelnegan · 9 months
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My Girl
S7!Negan x Reader
Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??
OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.
Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket
A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.
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"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.
Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.
I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.
The more I get to see him, the merrier.
I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.
"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.
"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.
"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."
His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.
"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.
I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.
"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.
"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.
"Hey, doll. Miss me?"
"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.
"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."
Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.
There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.
When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.
"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.
"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.
He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.
I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.
"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.
My face burns with embarrassment at his words.
"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.
"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"
Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.
"Negan... I need you."
"I know baby." He breathes out.
My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.
"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.
"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.
"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."
I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.
The big dick energy definitely checks out.
I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.
"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.
"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."
I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"
"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."
Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.
"Deeper, y/n." He demands.
When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.
"Bend over."
"W-what?"
"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.
I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.
"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."
He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.
"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.
I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.
I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.
He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.
"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.
"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"
My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.
"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."
"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."
He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"
I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."
"Then it's a deal, baby."
"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.
He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.
"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."
"Simon's keeping watch, doll."
His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"
He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."
My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.
"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"
I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.
"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.
He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.
He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.
My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.
"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.
"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.
"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"
"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.
He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.
I quickly get up and fix my dress.
"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.
Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.
"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."
"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."
"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."
Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.
"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.
"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.
Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.
"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.
"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.
"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.
Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."
My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.
Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."
"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.
I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.
A few hours later:
The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.
What if he doesn't come..
What if it's a trap..
What if he lied about everything he said..
Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..
Shut up. He wouldn't do that.
This is a bad idea. What am I doing.
Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.
"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.
"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"
I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."
He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.
"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"
"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.
"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.
He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.
My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.
"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.
He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.
"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."
He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"
I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."
I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."
"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.
I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"
That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.
I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."
He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.
"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.
Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"
"No, I want to."
He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."
I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.
"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."
"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.
I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.
“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”
I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.
Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.
“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.
I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.
"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.
My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.
"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.
I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.
“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.
He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.
“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.
He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"
I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.
"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.
My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.
I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.
"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.
"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."
"Touch me, Negan. Please."
"Please what?"
"Please Negan."
He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.
His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.
"Try again, doll."
"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.
"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.
I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.
"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.
My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.
"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."
He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.
"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.
After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.
"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"
Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.
"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.
This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.
"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."
He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.
"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"
"Yes! Please." I whine.
He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.
I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.
"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"
"He's not here, sweetheart."
"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.
"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.
"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"
"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."
"And.. and he gave it to you?!"
Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."
The next morning:
My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.
What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..
I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.
"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.
"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.
"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.
He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.
"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.
"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.
"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.
He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.
My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.
"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.
"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."
"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."
"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."
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The End.
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astroismypassion · 7 months
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Astrology observations 🦊🦊🦊
Credit goes to my Tumblr astrology blog @astroismypassion
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🦊Libra Chiron, Venus Chiron aspects and Chiron in the 7th house often experience pressure from parents when it comes to partnerships. They might have parents that had a hand in coming together with their partner in union, marriage. I'm not saying these people experience an arranged marriage, we should look for other aspects for that, but whenever the native is in a serious partnership, the parents might pressure them to get married, they are rooting for it to happen.
🦊Mercury Chiron people along with Chiron in the 3rd house feel like they were never chosen when it comes to friendships, partnerships. They were the last picked on soccer team or for a team project. Therefore these people often want to have more variety, they desire more people around them that they can choose from.
🦊Neptune square Chiron people often don't like their feet, the shape and how they look.
🦊Libra Chiron and Chiron in the 7th house often have the feel like partnership is something hard to come by.
🦊Pisces and Sagittarius Chiron have tons of hobbies, because they often feel like they lack rich "inner world". So they need a lot of hobbies to fill them. They might think about themselves that they are not really that imaginative.
🦊Jupiter positive aspect Juno often have a person that they met when young and stay in touch throughout life for many years.
🦊Ascendant negative aspect Ceres often come across as they simply don't care even when they actually do. They need to work hard to overcome their tendency to micromanage too or giving opinion when is not asked for. These people often come across as not caring enough, so they end up overdoing it to the point of being overly sweet with compliments or little gifts. They might be tempted to buy affection of a person.
🦊People with Sagittarius Ascendant (Gemini Descendant) might often attract a partner that ends up looking more like their sibling or a cousin rather than a partner. One example of this happening in real life is Madeline Argy (Sagittarius Ascendant) and her former partner British rapper Central Cee (Gemini Sun).
🦊Boyfriends of a Virgo Sun often end up looking very boyish or have this teenage charm, like they look pure, angelic and young.
🦊I often find in same Sun couple (for example both are Capricorn Sun) that one of them has Libra Juno. They are looking for the same version of themselves basically.
🦊People with Scorpio South Node need to learn in this lifetime that not all of people in their inner circle of friends, family and romantic partners deserves their time, energy and affection.
🦊Virgo Jupiter and Virgo over the 9th house natives might feel anxious about engagements and marriage. They have this back and forth thinking about marriage, one day they are up for it, other days they are more anti marriage. Also, these people could feel like their in-laws are hot and cold or two-faced with them. One day they get along really well with them, the next day they might be more ignorant. You could travel with your in-laws too. You might also work with your in-laws, like being part of family business.
🦊Mercury in the 12th house, Virgo/Gemini over the 12th house keep their room, home soo tidy. Like they can't fall asleep if there are still dirty dishes in their kitchen.
🦊Actor Matthew Perry from Friends had so many addiction indicators in his Natal chart is unbelieveable, such a concentrated chart.
🦊I noticed in romantic Composite charts that Libra over the 12th house often points to the fact that the romantic connection, partnership might not flourish, happen. Because there is this feel that both STILL don't know each other well. There is so much confusion between both with this placement. A lot of misunderstandings, miscommunication or misplaced expectations.
🦊That person you had feelings for, but never confessed? You might have Composite Pisces Moon with this person.
Credit goes to my Tumblr astrology blog @astroismypassion
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months
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Great! Can you please write an older Eddie with female reader, like maybe 25-26? And by now Eddie is a famous rock star, but he adores you, avoids groupies altogether. But when you and him go back to Hawkins to play at the Hideout just for fun Chrissy (or some other cheerleader) make moves on him, telling reader (maybe in the bathroom) "he was in love with me all through high school - I just have to move my pinky and he'll come running).
But then maybe Eddie proposes to reader on stage? :) request by @somethingvicked 💞
Angst to fluff, this is an 18+ blog so mdni.
❤️
Eddie made it big after he left Hawkins. A few years after he finally graduated and went to Chicago with the rest of Corroded Coffin, they were notified by a bigwig music producer who thought they had a real shot at being successful.
They grafted for another few years after that and after a lot of hard work, they began to get noticed. Did more gigs, got lots of exposure and recorded their first successful album.
Four albums, and four tours (one world tour) later, Eddie couldn't believe that his dreams of being a rockstar had come true.
Even with his dreams coming true, the most amazing thing to happen to him in the last few years was meeting you.
He ran into you after being chased by a handful of his fans (seeking shelter in a bookstore that you owned) that the two of you got closer and began to date.
You were younger than Eddie (26 to Eddie's 38) he was worried when you first began dating at the media attention the two of you would get. Anyone he got close to was the subject of scrutiny but you got it worse.
Eddie protected you as much as he could, put out statements in anger when the vitirol had you in tears and stressed to the max. He loved you so much and would do anything to protect you from hate.
Groupies tried and failed to catch his attention, he was a one woman man and all he wanted was you. Most of the time he loved getting you to join him on tour, but it depended on your job. When you weren't with him, he missed you like crazy.
Now he was going to Hawkins for one a one off concert at The Hideout. He couldn't wait to see his uncle and his friends. You and Eddie could catch up with everyone.
Most importantly though he was planning something very special for you and he wanted to do it surrounded with friends and family.
It would be cool to perform here in Hawkins after all this time. He couldn't wait to get the gig started.
❤️
Watching Corroded Coffin perform at the place they started out is an amazing experience, Eddie and the guys look like they are having so much fun and fans have travelled from different cities to watch the band.
You chat to Steve and the rest of the gang and feel so proud as you watch Eddie. He was in his element and looked so sexy as he shredded on his guitar, desire pools in your stomach. You couldn't wait to get him alone later.
He catches your eye, notices the way you're looking at him, winks and blows you a kiss.
The crowd is electric even once the gig finishes, everyone is cheering and going wild. Eddie jumps off the stage, walks over to you and kisses you, you feel your cheeks warm. He presses a kiss to your head then begins to interact with the crowd.
As soon as Eddie begins to mingle with the rest of the people in the Hideout, it wasn't long before a pretty blonde makes herself known.
You don't notice her at first as you're too busy catching up with the rest of the gang, then you wonder where Eddie has got to and after a quick look around the room, you find him.
He's with the blonde, she's heavily flirting. Touching his arm, giggling and playing with her hair, she's actually batting her eyes at him. You're used to groupies throwing themselves at Eddie but it still makes you feel a little shitty when you have to witness it.
Eddie looks uncomfortable when she ramps up the flirting and he makes a hasty retreat not quick enough though as she is practically purring at him to come back soon. Steve tells you she's called Chrissy.
Fuming at her blatant disregard for Eddie's feelings you follow her as she heads to the bathroom, She looks at you like you're dirt on her shoe, when you approach her.
"Yes?" you roll your eyes at the bitchy antics, fuck what was this high school? Memories from Hawkins High flood back and it makes you even more pissed. Who did this woman think she was?
"Hi, I'd appreciate it if you backed off from Eddie, your flirting was making him uncomfortable" you try to keep your cool, however the smug smile on her face is needling at you.
She snorts, flips her hair over her shoulder and moves closer to you.
"Oh please, sweetie he was in love with me all through high school - I just have to move my pinky and he'll come running" Chrissy smirks and you feel your stomach bottom out. Was this true?
Was she right? Would you lose Eddie to some old high school crush? Chrissy turns away from you and reapplies her lipstick which is cherry red, you leave the bathroom with the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.
Chrissy looks triumphant as she comes out, you feel like you can't breathe and stirrings of panic and anxiety begin to take over you.
She turns to her friends and looks so smug. "Guaranteed he'll dump her, when I show even a hint of interest. He could do so much better"
Gareth is close to all of you, chatting to his girlfriend when he hears the comment Chrissy made.
The look on your face tugs at his heart. Eddie was so in love with you, no Chrissy Cunningham's were going to change that. Still, he doesn't like how Chrissy is speaking to you (Eddie won't either) and he excuses himself from Alicia for a moment to inform Eddie what's going on.
Eddie glares over at Chrissy, who preens at his attention. "In love with her in high school? Is she for fucking real? I was in love with about half the class at one point? She's not special" Eddie snorts.
As for dumping you for Chrissy? That he could do better than you? As if. She was deluded if she thought that. He'd tell her that if he had to. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.
Gareth looks amused and discreetly slips Eddie his surprise for you. "Good luck man" Eddie nods, nerves crawling through his veins.
Fuck after all the planning this was it. He heads up on stage, takes a deep breath and begins to speak. "Hi, can I have everyone's attention please"
You notice that Eddie is up on the stage and wonder what he's doing. What aren't the rest of the band with him? To your surprise he calls on you to join him.
"I wanted to do this here, surrounded by my family and friends, I've been planning a surprise and I hope you like it sweetheart" you feel yourself grow flustered but very very happy.
What was he planning? There's this part of you that thinks he may be going to propose, the thought of him doing it nearly brings tears to your eyes but you will them away. It could be anything, you mustn't get your hopes up too much.
You'd love to marry Eddie, spend the rest of your life with him, but Eddie had taken a long time to come around to the idea of marriage, would he want that now?
He takes your hand and kisses it tenderly, pulls off one of his rings and places it on your ring finger, your heart begins to race as you realise the dream you have, may be coming true.
"Eddie?" you can barely get the words out and his eyes are all big and shiny as he gazes at you with pure love in his expression.
"I love you so much princess, you're all I'll ever want and need. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" He gets down on one knee and smiles, reaches in his pocket and pulls out a velvet red box, inside is the most beautiful ring you've ever seen.
You're sobbing freely now, elated and throw your arms around Eddie. "Yes!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and you see the smug smile wiped off Chrissy's face. Eddie places the ring on your finger and kisses you, tenderly cupping your face in his hands.
Chrissy scoffs and leaves, throwing you and Eddie a bitchy look as she does. Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Charming huh?" You stifle a giggle and he softens.
"Hey, Gareth told me what Chrissy said sweetheart. Fuck, she was a stupid crush in high school that vanished quickly because she's a complete bitch. You never have to worry about that" you smile and cuddle into him.
You kiss him again and look at the beautiful ring on your finger, you can't wait for you and Eddie to start your new adventure.
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cdbabymp3 · 3 months
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𐙚sweetest relief ― hamzahthefantastic
summary: touch deprived hamzah needs your help
notes/warnings: nsfw !! if u don't like that, don't read 🤓 grinding, making out, hamzah is lowkey a virgin in this bc that is my truth <3
* i literally just posted this but had to delete it my acc bc it was attached to an inactive blog and all this other shit BUT HIII IT'S ME
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neither of you had bothered turning off the movie playing in the background, way too caught up in the rhythm of the makeout session currently taking place. your spot on the couch next to hamzah was abandoned not even halfway through the movie, quickly replaced with his oh-so-comfortable lap. his lips kissed yours languidly, a kind of softness you'd only ever felt with him. his strong hands held onto your ass intently, squeezing and kneading the skin just enough to make you mewl. he felt almost drunk the way your lips worked relentlessly with his. you decided to let him catch his breath, your lips leaving his to kiss just below his jaw. he tenses, not in a rejecting way, more so hesitant to give into the moment.
"is this okay?" you whisper against his neck, sending chills down his back and arms
a low "mhm" was all he could get out, worried he if tried to say an actual sentence his voice would crack
his breath was uneven and you could tell he needed more. you grind against him tortuously slow, just enough to feel him start to get turned on. 
"oh-shit" he stiffens, sitting up a little from his once relaxed position
"it's okay, just relax" you soothe, waiting until he gives you an eager nod to resume
you continue to rock your hips against his growing erection, watching how hamzah's eyebrows knit together in ecstasy. he melts into your touch, your delicate hands taking his face and kissing him passionately. he hums into the kiss, his hold on your ass getting tighter. you can feel him getting closer to his high, so you quicken your movements, building more and more friction. 
his panting getting heavier, usually so quiet, but now he's holding back a throaty moan on the edge of release. 
"babe-oh-fuck..." he twitches underneath you, head falling back as he basks in his high. it's such a pretty sight, him coming undone. his eyes screwed shut, mouth slightly parted.
in slow increments, you stop your movements, allowing for him to fully ride out the final few waves of pleasure. you smile, grabbing his chin to get his attention. he opens his eyes, matching your smile...a bit more fucked out than you. you give him a chaste kiss on the cheek and he shakes his head in disbelief.
"what?" you giggle
"i did not just cum in my pants like a fuckin' 12 year old, oh my god..." he pinches the bridge of his nose. you've never seen him this embarrassed before, it was so cute.
"it's okay, i won't tell." you promise before giving him another light kiss on his cheek, then nose, then lips. 
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for miss @forevergirlposts :*
keep sending requests plssss
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milla-frenchy · 3 months
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Snowflakes
0k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3
Summary: you and Joel are on your way back from patrol. You fall asleep not expecting this night to be worse than your encounters with the infected
Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dead dove. Noncon. Dark Joel. Pwp. Joel pov. Somnophilia, oral (f), masturbation (f/m), piv, degradation. No age specified
a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for beta reading 💕🫶
Heed the warnings. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. This fic isn't for everyone, and that's ok. I don't condone any of this.
Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates
Masterlist
***********
Joel couldn't sleep. The patrol had been stressful, too many infected had crossed your path. You two had stayed at one of the usual cabins for the night. He was looking at the moon through the window. Everything was quiet. The snowflakes kept falling and must have covered your footprints by now. You had fallen asleep, exhausted after several days of patrol, way longer than usual. You turned onto your back in your sleep, and he didn’t take his eyes off you.
When he pulled down your panties, your scent drove him crazy. His mouth latched onto her pussy and his tongue ran over your folds. You were so tired that you didn't wake up. He kept licking your pussy, his hand tight on his thick cock as he was fucking his wrist while you were moaning more and more in your sleep. He knew that when you woke up you would struggle. That he would have to hold you under him to fuck you. He didn’t care then when his tongue was buried in your pussy. Soon he would thrust his cock in your cunt. He didn't even know what had taken over him, why he was acting like that all of a sudden, when there had never been anything between you.
His tongue inside you was no longer enough for him, and when he moved back up to your clit, he pushed two fingers in your pussy. His mind and body wanted to take, to possess, to cum. He continued to jerk off harder, thinking about the moment he would push his cock inside you. He got obsessed with the desire.
When you finally woke up, you called his name without really understanding what was going on, if you were dreaming.
“J…Joel?”
When you realized what was happening, you tried to pull his head away but it turned him on even more. He let go of his cock and grabbed your wrists with his free hand, still fucking you with the other one, growling between your thighs.
Was it your incoming orgasm that made you stop struggling? He didn’t know and didn’t care. You came on his fingers and on his tongue, and he thought he might spill his cum onto the sheets. If he had been 35 years younger, that probably would have happened. But not that day, not then. That day he wanted to fuck that cunt. He needed it. When he moved back up to you and settled between your thighs, you hit his torso with your fists but he was too strong to be stopped. He took his thick cock in his hand and nestled it at your entrance. You begged him to stop, tears in your eyes.
“You cum in my mouth and think I won’t fuck you?”
He hadn't even wiped himself after making you cum, and his beard was glistening with your wetness.
“You’re gonna fuckin’ take it.”
When he sank in you, you were afraid he would tear you in two. It'd been a long time since you'd had sex with someone. And Joel didn't want to have sex, he wanted to fuck.
He didn’t stop until he bottomed out, and he stayed there, buried between your folds, balls deep in your pussy. You heard him breathing hard against your neck, until he pulled back and looked at you. When he buried himself again in your core, he didn’t take his eyes off you.
“Told you you’d take it. Fuck, you’re tight.”
He was smirking at you with each thrust. As if he was feeding himself with your fear.
“I bet you never took such a big cock in your cunt.”
Again, he was thrusting in, fucking your warm pussy.
"Touch yourself. Make yourself cum on this cock. Come on, I know you want it."
Mechanically, you did as he asked, and slightly rotated your finger on your clit.
“Fuckin’ whore. If I knew you were such a slut I would have fucked you sooner”, he growled.
You were ashamed when your orgasm came. Your pussy squeezed his cock so hard, that you were afraid he would release his cum inside you. But he gritted his teeth and let the jerks of your pussy on his cock fade out, listening to your whimpers.
“You’re such a slut, cumming on this cock, after you acted like you didn’t want it.”
He thrust in again, one hand on your throat, until he pulled out. He began jerking off, kneeling between your thighs, and you didn't dare move.
You looked at his cock, so thick and long, and the expression on your face made him smirk. He grabbed one of your breasts and jacked off harder, until the spurts of cum hit your stomach.
“You better keep your mouth shut when we get back, if you don't want me to come to your house at night. Bet your pussy would like that.”
***************
Thank you for reading 🙏
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️
Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates
@pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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taken
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words: 3.1k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, crime boss!rafe, (former) stripper!reader, drug dealing, prostitution/sex club, multiple murders, guns, shooting, kidnapping, unprotected p in v sex, tit slapping, male receiving handjob, kind of rough sex? its not that intense idk
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog
rafe stands on the upper balcony, his hands on the railing as he leans to look at the crowd moving below his feet, a mix of grinding and bumping bodies in various states of undress. his eyes search for you. he always searched for you in the crowd, making sure there is a smile on your face, and that there are no grabby hands touching parts of you that are well and solely his.
it wasn’t a crazy leap from what rafe did in his teenage years. moving from selling drugs to running a club. not just any club, of course. rafe called it a loose clothing policy club, but really it was constant sex parties behind the doors, doors that people pay a lot of money to get on the other side of. 
he, of course, kept up the lucrative drug business, but passed off the actual sale and deal to some underlings. it may not make him a completely legitimate businessman like his father, but it got him a hell of a lot closer to it, and the money got him a lot more respect as well. among the drug dealers and bartenders in his employ, he also has dancers. dancers who just happen to feel the urge to get on top of the bar and take their clothes off while the crowd cheers.
dancers don’t have to engage in any acts of sexual nature with the guests if they don't want to, but most choose to for the generous tips they give, on top of the wage rafe gives them. except for you. he hired you fresh out of college, with a bachelor's degree in arts that you had nothing you could do with, not while staying in north carolina at least. you were confident and beautiful, but you never went too far with any of the men or women who came into the bar, not until rafe approached you one night.
you’ve been his since. his girl, who he allows out on nights that he’s there to watch over you, not truly trusting even his security to keep you safe, just himself. he knows you like to drink and dance, and he’d never stop you from doing whatever you like to do, even if it means he’s internally seething with jealousy, glaring at every man who looks at you.
“sir.” the voice brings rafe out of his own head, looking over.
“what is it?” he questions, voice gruffer than he means for it to come out.
“one of the dealers wants to talk with you.” he replies. rafe would get upset, he hates being interrupted, but this is one of his best men. “he’s already in your office.”
“fine.” rafe sighs, eyes glancing back over the floor. “watch y/n.” he simply says before walking away, knowing he doesn’t need to get into the specifics of never looking away or letting anyone touch you.
“what do you want, martin?” rafe asks, slamming the door shut behind him, moving his hands to his hips, pushing his suit jacket out of the way, letting the gun that he keeps holstered on his hip be in plain sight, a warning and a reminder.
“i want to talk to you about the cut you’re taking.” martin responds, his eyes wild and crazy, and rafe has no doubt that he’s dipping into the drugs hes supposed to be selling. rafe knows the feeling well, but he got out of all of that once his mind started to lose focus too often, and the drugs got too irresistible.
“the cut i’m taking?” rafe questions. “of the drugs that i supply you?” “there wouldn’t be any money if it weren’t for me selling.” martin responds, his hands twitching on his knees, fingers grimy.
“you think i couldn’t have another seller lined up immediately? i can’t believe you’d bug me with this shit.” rafe groans. he wants to get his eyes back on you, immediately.
“wait!” martin says as rafe turns to the door. rafe has to take a deep breath to not deck him immediately, his hands clenching in a fist. “since you don’t want to give me a cut, i want $100k. for reimbursement.” rafe lets out a barking laugh, shaking his head. “and why would i do that?” “because if you don’t, i’m not gonna let your girl go.” martin says, a sick grin coming to his face. “my associate should be taking her out of the building right now, so it’s 100k or she-”
rafe doesn’t let martin finish his sentence. he doesn’t want to hear what is about to fall out of his gross mouth, he simply raises his gun and shoots him square between the eyes. martin falls to the ground, dead before he even realized that the gun was unholstered.
a group of rafes men rush into the office upon hearing the gunshot, but rafe doesn’t care about the body on the floor. “find y/n! immediately!” he shouts, pushing past all of them to rush down the stairs to the main level.
the club explodes into action, every crevice being searched for you. rafe rushes outside along with his men, eyes searching for anything suspicious, when he sees a black van speeding away. rafe doesn’t question his movements or the implications, raising his gun and shooting at the tire, causing the van to spin to a stop.
rafe runs over as quickly as his legs will carry him, throwing open the back doors of the van, his heart breaking when he sees you looking so small, hands tied together and gag shoved into your mouth, your eyes wide and clothing askew.
“shh, i’m here baby.” rafe says, grabbing you out of the van, undoing your hands carefully and taking the gag out of your mouth.
“rafe!” you sob, hiding your face in his shoulder as he picks you up, holding you against him, rubbing over your back even as his hands shake at the fact that he almost just lost you.
“it’s okay, i’m here.” rafe says, but you just continue to cry into his shirt.
“sir.” one of rafes men says. the one that he tasked to watch you, the one that let you out of his sight, let you get taken. “what do you want us to do with the driver?”
theres another dealer rafe recognizes, kneeling on the street, eyes flicking between rafe and the gun pointed at him. rafe doesn’t care if he could give more information, he hurt his girl, and that means only one fate is meant for him. rafe raises his gun and shoots the dealer himself, before turning it to his own man.
“no! sir, plea-” rafe doesn’t let him finish his sentence. you shudder and keep your face pressed against rafes shirt, knowing that you don’t want to see whatever just happened. 
“let this be a lesson on what happens if you ever cross me.” rafe says, addressing his men. “now clean this shit and my office up. i’m taking y/n home. i will get back in touch in the morning.”
rafe doesn’t bother going back inside. he walks straight to his car, setting you down in the passenger seat, sighing sadly when you curl up, rubbing at your wrists.
“i’m so sorry, baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your hair before rounding the car, quickly turning it on and heading towards home.
he takes a deep breath once he’s passed the well secured gate, knowing that you’re more than safe in the walls of his mansion.
“do you want to talk about it?” rafe asks once he gets you inside, and onto the couch, a cup of water in our hand.
“it was just so scary.” you pout, eyes turning downward. “they grabbed me out of the crowd, and shoved that nasty rag in my mouth so i couldn’t scream.”
“i will kill everyone involved.” rafe says, and you know he’s serious. you press your hands to his cheeks, bringing him into a kiss. 
“it’s okay.” you whisper. your words won’t stop him, but you want to take some of the guilt away. “i knew you would save me.” “i should have protected you in the first pla-” 
“shh.” you interrupt rafe, pressing your lips together again. “can we get in the bath? together? please.” rafe nods, he’d do anything for you, he already had the bathroom ripped out and redone to fit a larger bathtub after he learned how much you love soaking in the warm water.
“let me carry you.” rafe stops you when you try to stand, scooping you into his arms. you look so little again, swallowed up against his big chest. it makes him think of you in that trunk, and he moves faster up the stairs, needing to be curled up against you in the tub, making you feel better.
“choose a bathbomb, honey.” rafe sets you down on the cool tile. “i restocked.” 
you hum a nod and look through the cabinet until you find a sparkly white bathbomb. you know rafe would usually complain about you usually using a glittery bathbomb when he was joining you, but today is the one day you can get away with it.
“this one.” you hand it to rafe, who drops it into the tub that he started filling with hot water.
“can i undress you?” rafe questions. you nod, knowing how much he likes to be the one to take your clothes off. he moves so slowly disrobing you, carefully putting your dress in the hamper, that when you’re nude, the bath is filled enough for you to get in.
you sigh happily as the warm water covers your body, watching rafe undress while the drama of the day washes away. it’s become a part of your reality, threats against you or rafe, but this is the most dangerous situation you’ve directly been in yet, and you know rafe needs to relax as much as you do.
rafe slides into the tub behind you, letting you rest against his chest. “you know i can only stand to be with you naked for so long before i’m going to need to take you out of this bath and fuck you.” “i know.” you say, swirling your hands through the sparkly water. “just at least 15 minutes just relaxing before.” “i can do that for you.” rafe says, and you both fall quiet, mind reeling from the day and just needing some rest. your eyes flutter closed, hands softly stroking over rafes thighs on either side of your hips. rafe leans his head against the back of the tub, allowing himself to take a breath.
the water starts to grow cold, and rafe is sure he must have reached the 15 minute mark by now, but you are leaning against him so peacefully he doesn’t want to move you, eyes checking over your wrists, noticing that they’re slightly red, even though you were only tied up for a few short minutes.
you begin to squirm, clearly noticing the cool water. 
“baby-” rafe gasps when your bum rubs against his crotch, and you feel him hardening.
you turn around in the tub to face him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “fuck me, rafe.” rafe stands quickly, grabbing the towel and drying himself off before helping you out of the tub, taking careful consideration to dry you as well, rubbing the soft towel over every inch of your body.
“we are all glittery.” you smile, admiring your shiny skin.
“you’re lucky i love you.” rafe says, making you blush. you know he didn’t take you in just to have sex with you, even if that was the main reason you became his girl at first, but because he had genuinely been interested in you.
“and i’m also lucky you’re going to fuck me.” you giggle, heading into the bedroom and letting yourself flop onto the bed, not caring that the dripping ends of your hair will wet the sheets, not with what you’re about to do on them.
 rafe walks slowly out of the bathroom, a feral look in his eyes, a shift happening inside of him, one from taking care of you, making you feel better, to one of needing you, needing to possess you and take you.
you watch as he approaches, climbing onto the bed and slotting his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you underneath him. rafes cock is now fully hardened, standing at attention as his heavy balls weigh down against your skin, clearly needing to be released, and you prefer that release to happen pumped inside of you.
his hands shoot forward to grip your tits, making you moan, his warm palms massaging your sensitive skin, letting your nipples rub against his hands. rafe is often quiet when fucking you, depending on how he is feeling. you can tell by the look in his eye that he’s got anger bubbling up inside of him, that needs a release, and you are here for using.
rafe leans forward, pushing his cock against the smooth skin of your stomach. rafe begins to rub his cock against your skin, letting it glide back and forth, the head of his cock smearing precum as his fingers pinch your nipple before rubbing over them.
he bends down to capture your mouth in a dominant kiss, and you let him take control, his tongue licking into yours, as you moan, arching your back as he grabs your tits hard, making you flinch amongst the pleasure.
rafe pulls away from the kiss, briefly bending to suck on your nipples into his mouth, just to add to the taste of you on his tongue. rafe picks up your hand, laying it over his cock, telling you without words what he wants you to do.
you press your hand down, letting him grind down between your palm and your stomach as his hand draws back and lays a slap across your tit, not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to make you gasp. 
you move your free hand to the head of his cock, massaging it with your fingertips as rafe delivers another slap across your skin, before bringing his palm down to your other breast to even out the pain and pleasure.
rafe moans lowly when you swipe the pad of your finger over the slit at the tip of his cock, his hips starting to push faster, which just floods you with wetness, imagining him thrusting inside of you instead of against your stomach.
“please fuck me.” you whine. “make me yours rafe.”
rafe pulls away instantly, moving to kneel between your legs, grabbing your knees and pushing them up, bending you in half. “you’re mine.” rafe says, pushing his cock against your entrance, not even giving you a second to breathe before hes thrusting inside, filling you to the brim. “you’re mine.” he gasps again, beginning to thrust, your sloppy cunt producing wet noises. “no one is going to take you away from me.” you pout, knowing rafe is taking his aggression out right now, but he’s also working through his worry and anxiety about you being kidnapped again.
“i’m right here.” you tell rafe, placing your hands over his, helping him hold your legs up as his cock pushes in and out of your pussy at a rapid pace. “i’m right here.”
rafe lets out a half sob, half moan, wrapping his arms around your legs, needing to feel more of you against his body, even if it just is the back of your thighs and calves as he hugs your legs to him, continuing to push his dick into you, now touching at a new angle that has you crying out.
“rub your clit for me.” rafe grunts, throwing his head back, eyes making contact with the ceiling as he pants, trying to hold back from cumming until you’re ready as well. “need you to cum for me.” “yes, gonna cum for you rafey.” you push your hand between your tightly held together thighs, rubbing at your clit while his cock brutalizes your pussy.
your breath catches in your throat when your legs move slightly to the side, allowing to to see rafes face, chin still tilted slightly upward, his mouth ajar and his eyes glazed over with lust, looking like an angel despite all the devilish acts that he’s done, but everything he’s done today has been for you, and you certainly won’t forget the blood on his hands only there to protect you.
“i love you.” you cry out, tears streaming down your cheeks, your fingers moving faster on your clit, needing to cum for rafe and rafe alone, not caring about the pleasure you’re going to receive yourself, just getting yourself off so rafe can feel your cunt squeeze around him, so he can release inside of you.
“i love you more baby.” rafes voice is hoarse as his hips snap into you, a loud slap every time his hips touch your skin.
you let out a scream when your orgasm hits you suddenly, entire body tightening as rafe releases inside of you, your cunt pulsating as you slow your rub on your clit, milking everything out of rafe that he has to offer.
“fuck.” rafe sighs out, a coy look on his face as he lowers your legs down, rubbing over your thighs to make up for the position he put you in as he slowly slides his cock out of you.
rafe moves carefully to lay down next to you, not just wanting to flop down, considerate of his movements when you’re around anyways, but especially since you just went through something traumatic.
“come here.” rafe reaches out for you, and you slide into his embrace, your head coming to rest on his chest.
“you know you’re going to have to stay here in the house for a few days while i get this mess sorted out?” rafe asks, but it’s more of a statement.
“i know.” you say. it’s not like you’re happy about being locked up, but it’s for your safety. “i’m sorry.” rafe sighs. “when all of this is over, i’ll take you on a nice long vacation-”
“i’m not mad.” you say, picking your head up to look at rafe. “i knew exactly what i was getting into with you, with your business. i understand. you don’t have to apologize for keeping me safe.”
rafe smiles at you, his thumb rubbing over your cheek, wondering how he managed to get such a perfect girl before bringing you in for a kiss.
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eliciana · 5 months
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Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café
-> Chapter 1(Here)| Chapter 2 | ...
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Hello everyone, pls don't expect much from this chapter,which is going to be part of a series, will be that good. I may have grammatical errors and wrong spellings so please don't hesitate to tell me in the comments about it. English is not my main language. Also, I write some very descriptive and long scenes about what the reader does because i got used to writing descriptive essays so please bear with the long paragraphs and sentences. Thank you.
And yes, I'm back. Also the Misunderstanding series will be updated after my exams this is just in my drafts and I wanted to just upload it.
-Eli
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Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au, a bit of cussing like this bit 🤏.
Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Café Owner!Reader
Characters: Reader
Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. You can slide into my dms (😝 im joking bro) if you ever want to be tagged in my works just tell me what series you want to be tagged in or all of them. thank you <3.
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You close your eyes and think back to that very fateful day — the day that entirely altered your life's course and shatter any semblance of normalcy you once knew. The memory is etched in your mind, clear and vivid. The secret your café had.
You had always dreamed of owning your very own café when you get older. It had always consumed your thoughts and fueled your ambitions. Doing everything you can to be able to make your dream come true. It was a dream that guided you through your highs and lows, the setbacks and triumphs, and now, your very own cafe is now right infront of your eyes. You stand awe, gazing upon your newly built dream café that represents your years of hard work and dedication. It almost feels surreal. The weight of such an accomplishment settles in your shoulders, filling with a sense of pride that it threatens to burst out of your chest.
The obstacles and challenges you faced along the way have not gone unnoticed. The countless hours of planning, the sacrifices made, the hurdles overcome—each scar and battle wound a testament to your unwavering determination. They have shaped you into the person you are today, a person who is standing on the precipice of their own extraordinary creation. In this moment, you can't help but reflect on how far you have come. You just want to curl up into a ball and cry for how proud you are for yourself.
As you approach the door to your café, your hand trembles with anticipation. You grasp the smooth handle, feeling the coolness of the metal against your palm, and slowly turn it. The door swung open, emitting a soft creak that pierced the silence. Above it, a small, quaint bell dangled delicately, waiting to be disturbed. The cascade of delicate notes wove together seamlessly, announcing your presence, like a whispered greeting to anyone who would listen.
You stare in awe and wonder at the interior design of your cafe , captivated by it's beauty. The space exceeds your imagination and sketches, each detail meticulously brought to life. You explore every corner, your eyes eager to take in every detail. The plants you selected with great care breathe life into the space, their vibrant green leaves adding a touch of freshness and enhancing the cozy, warm aura you envisioned. Sunlight steams through the windows, casting a golden glow that illuminates upon your carefully handpicked furniture, adding a touch of charm. Every detail, from the placement of tables and chairs to the color palette and textures and to the shelf placed at the wall behind the counter with small sized standees of genshin impact, comes together harmoniously, painting a reality that is more beautiful than it was in your imagination.
You took one last look at your own café, only to catch sight of a door that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. It wasn't in your sketches, nor was it part of the layout you had memorized. How could something so out of place suddenly appear in your beloved café? How weird. You were sure that when you went inside this café it was never there. It was on the opposite side of the front entrance door of your café. It had a very different kind of design from the doors you had. How weird . Were you perhaps hallucinating? Was your stress and sleep deprivation finally getting to you? You resort to pinching and slapping your cheeks in an attempt to jolt yourself back to reality. Nope. You can still see it. You rushed to go outside of your café. As you step out into the open, your eyes scanning the exterior, you're met with a surprising revelation—the door you saw inside your café is nowhere to be found. It's as if it had vanished into thin air, leaving you bewildered and questioning your senses.
Nonetheless, you breathed a heavy sigh of relief and once again went inside of your café, blaming your hallucination to your stress. However, as your eyes scanned the interior again, you saw the door still there.
'Oh, hell no.' You thought and quickly opened the front door again, took a look at the exterior, look at the door inside, and continued doing that action for a minute. Yup, you're officialy hallucinating.
You looked at the strange door and felt a nagging feeling of curiousity wanting to try and open that door. Maybe it was actually a big ass sticker that one of the builders placed as a prank. You never know. Steeling yourself, you went closer to the door on your tippy toes. Carefully trying to be quiet. Why? You don't know. You just knew you had to. Maybe it was an instinct of yours. You were now infrot of the door and you tried reaching for the door knob still thinking it was a sticker but the coolness feeling in your hands said uno reverse. You abruptly took back your hand in shock. You stared down at the atrocity in front of you. You quickly raised your foot and took off your shoes/heel/slipper and held onto it tightly. Preparing yourself to open the door, you took in a deep breath and reached for the door knob once more. Twisting it open, a ray of sunlight shone through the small crack as you pushed the door open gently.
Your eyes widen at the sight infront of you as you had fully opened the door. The grip your hand had on your lethal weapon widened and it slipped from your hands. The sight infront of you was so surreal. 'This can't be true, right?' your head was going to so many places, unable to comprehend what was going on. You felt kinda dizzy.
You would be a fool not to recognize this place that you had seen so many times throughout your life. A few kilometers infront of you was the City of Mondstadt in view. You could even see the knights guarding the gate and Timmie with his pigeons at the bridge.
The weird door from your cafe was actually a door to the Genshin Impact world. Wow... wtf.
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also pls take a look at my poorly drawn drawing of what your view looks like cause for the love of god I can't seem to explain it:
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Also you're in a cliff or something. so yeah
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senditcolton · 5 months
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praise you like i should
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song inspo: praising you word count: 3.4k warnings: smut! feminine reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected penetration and - of course - praise.
a/n: as i have said before, it's always loving matthew tkachuk hours on this blog. you had to know this was coming eventually. this is also extremely self-indulgent so, there's that. i really don't have anything else to say except: sorry not sorry.
The sound of Matthew’s keys clattering onto the small entrance table – the one that you convinced him to buy a few months earlier – echoes though the house. But you barely have time to register the noise before Matthew’s hands reattach themselves to your hips as he continues to use his body to push you into the house.
Desperate to get you alone.
This was the inevitable conclusion to your night out. It was New Year’s Eve – well now, New Year’s Day – and Matt loved to cap off any celebration by having you tangled in his sheets. Not that you minded. So, him almost speeding home from the downtown bar where you were celebrating with his teammates, his hand on your thigh, wasn’t unexpected. Especially after that kiss he pressed against your lips when the clock struck twelve.
But the way he is practically dragging you up the stairs, his hands never letting go of you; how he pulls you into his bedroom, his own desperation melding with yours… there was more than regular desire fueling his actions. And when he spins to kiss you again, your own head spins with it.
“Congratulations, baby,” comes his delicate whisper, his lips brushing yours.
There it was: the answer to his intensity. Tonight was no longer a celebration of the brand-new year, filled with possibilities, stretching out in front of the two of you. This was a celebration of you. You had graduated. Diploma sent and a new degree to your name. That was the contents of the official school email you opened earlier at the party, bouncing with excitement at the reality that all of your hard work paid off. You told Matthew immediately and his pride for you immediately turned into him announcing your success to the others which turned into a cheer and a toast in your direction.
Which apparently morphed into a heightened level of passion for Matthew.
You sigh, leaning your head back as his lips trail down to your neck and soon to the sharp angles of your collarbones, peeking out from underneath the straps of your dress. Your fingers tangle into his cropped curls as he sucks a hickey into your skin, marking you as his, something you never disputed. His lips eventually trail back up towards your own.
“Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to date such a beautiful, amazing, insanely smart girl like you,” he says, punctuating each adjective with a peck against your lips.
“Can’t believe I’m dating such a gorgeous, talented, wonderful person like you,” you reply, echoing his statement and actions, loving the feeling of his lips curling up in a smile at your words.
“Hush,” he playfully silences you, using his body to walk you back deeper into the room. Soon, you feel the edge of the mattress against the back of your knees. Matthew guides you to sit down, pressing one final kiss against your lips before raising himself to his full height. Instinctually, your hands fly up to his belt, ready to undo the buckle. But before your fingertips could even graze the cold metal, Matt catches your wrists, halting your movements.
“Not tonight, sweetheart. Tonight’s all about you.”
Your breath catches in your throat twice: first, at the way he gazes down at you with such admiration and love and then at the sight of him dropping to his knees in front of you. He guides your hands to your sides before letting them go, his own hands free to glide against the smooth skin of your upper thighs. His gentle touches continue, every brush against your skin igniting the fire that burned in your lower stomach.
You can only watch him as he lifts one of your legs, placing your foot against his chest before his hands move to the straps of your high heel. He deftly undoes the ties from around your ankle before pulling the shoe off of your foot, placing a delicate kiss against your shin before reaching down and repeating the same sequence with your other leg.
It feels like reverence, like a kind of worship.
The gentle press of Matthew’s hands guides your legs open and a smirk tugs at your lips when you see his eyes darken at the sight of your bare core exposed to him.
“No panties tonight?”
“Figured you’d be between my thighs at some point. Didn’t want you ruining another pair,” you quip, that teasing energy that was a bedrock in your relationship flowing easily. Matthew shares your grin, lifting one of your ankles to rest on his shoulder.
“So confident,” he murmurs, his lips returning to your skin, tracing a slow deliberate path up your leg.
“Wonder where I get that from?”
This time, Matthew doesn’t respond to your jab, choosing to continue to kiss his way up your leg, his lips pressing against your calf… knee… inner thigh… so close to the place you wanted him most. But before he reaches the inevitable destination, he switches over to your other leg, repeating the same tortuous process. Your head falls back, your hips rolling towards him, in desperation or encouragement, you weren’t entirely sure. Whatever the reason, Matthew does not fall for it, still moving at a snail’s pace.
The whine that rips from your chest is involuntary as he disappears completely, lifting himself off the floor and capturing your lips in another needy kiss, before he pulls away.
“Lay back, sweetheart.”
Your response to his gentle demand is silent yet immediate as you push yourself further onto the bed, moving your body up until your back hits the mound of pillows resting against the headboard. Your eyes find Matthew still standing at the foot of the bed, his own blue eyes drinking you in. You let your thighs fall open and the groan that rumbles from Matthew’s chest is surely in response to the sight of your arousal glistening in the low lamplight of the bedroom.
Matthew doesn’t hesitate a moment longer, climbing onto the bed before taking a hold of one of your legs. He throws the limb over his shoulder and you think – and hope – that he isn’t going to tease you anymore. But you should’ve known better. Being a pest was just in his nature; a nature that came out as his lips brush against your skin, retracing the path he previously charted.
However, this time he doesn’t jump to the opposite side. Instead, he lifts your other leg so both are now perched on top of his broad shoulders. That devilish smirk graces his lips before he finally – finally – leans in and presses his tongue flat against your cunt. Your moan reverberates around the bedroom as Matthew moves against your core, his tongue stroking against your folds before trailing upwards to flick your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive nub. Your hips move of their own volition, bucking against him as he continues his movements, a fresh wave of arousal flooding your pussy with every motion of his skilled tongue.
“Fuck, Matthew, feels so good,” you whine, your voice high and tight in your throat. His only response is a moan of his own, the vibrations against your core causing your desperation to rachet even higher. You can feel his hands on your hips, encouraging your movements as he continues to devour you.
His hands fall lower, gripping the back of your thighs and you gasp as – in a move that you were too strung out to comprehend – he flips both of you, his back pressed against the sheets and your knees now digging into the mattress on either side of his head.
The sharp inhale from the sudden display of strength turns into a softer exhale as you realize exactly what Matthew is proposing. Your eyes connect to his as he looks up at you from between your thighs, and you know the question that you see in his irises reflects the same in your own.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me take care of you,” Matthew whispers, pressing another soft kiss into the skin of your inner thigh, causing a shiver to run through your body.
“Are you sure?”
“Wouldn’t be begging if I wasn’t.”
Another trill runs down your spine, the eagerness he displayed making you feel insanely attractive – even more so than he usually made you feel. You slowly sink down, Matthew meeting you halfway, reattaching his mouth to your core. A whimper falls from your lips as your hand shoots down to tangle in his hair once more.
The whines and moans never cease as Matthew’s lips and tongue dance around your folds, exploring every crevice, greedily lapping the fresh waves of desire that flow from you. His hands stroke against your thighs before lifting, pushing your dress further up your body before grabbing your hips. You feel the press of his grasp, encouraging you to move, a request that you give into easily, rolling your body against him.
His own moans sound and the sensation causes your hips to buck, the hand that wasn’t tangled in your curls shooting out to grasp the headboard in front of you. Matthew continues to eat you out like you were his favorite dessert or his last meal on earth and when his lips move upwards to wrap around your sensitive clit, you can’t stop the cascade of curses that fall.
“Fuck, Matty, right there,” you whine, practically grinding on his face.
Matthew listens, repeating the motion and every move of his tongue pulls your orgasm closer and closer. It isn’t long until his ministrations push you over that edge, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. Your body stills, head falling forward as you feel your thighs tremble with the effort of holding you up, the aftershocks still running through you.
Matthew doesn’t stop until you are pushing him back, his head dropping onto the pillows. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your eyes fluttering open to connect with his. Another moan threatens to escape when you see his tongue flick out to lick his lips clean.
You don’t waste any time scooting down the length of his body in order to crash your lips against his. His hands tangle into your hair, pulling you closer, the kisses you exchange just as desperate as they ever were.
You never wanted to let him go and he makes it clear that he felt the same way.
Eventually, the kisses slow until Matthew is pulling away, brushing the now damp strands of hair out of your face.
“I love you,” he whispers, pressing another – much softer kiss – against your lips. “My smart, sexy graduate.”
“Are you going to give me a present? A reward for my new degree?” you quip, a grin breaking out on your face; one that is quickly mirrored by Matthew.
“That wasn’t enough?”
A light giggle escapes as you lift your body upright, straddling him as you flip your hair back, pretending to think about his question.
“That was really, really, good. But,” you start to reply, moving to grind against Matthew’s lap, his head falling back as he feels your soaked cunt rub against his length, straining against the denim of his jeans. “I was thinking of something else.”
“Greedy,” he chirps but his own words are shaky as you continue your movements against him, his hands returning to your hips. “Fuck, babe. How do you want it?”
You don’t respond right away, instead choosing to lean down and kiss him again, before giving him the answer that you had decided well before he asked – a decision you made in that downtown bar when he kissed you at midnight.
“From behind,” you whisper against his lips before lifting yourself upright once more. That cocky expression dances across Matthew’s face as he appraises you, his eyebrow raising in question.
“Are you sure you can handle that?” he questions, his hands dropping to delicately trace his fingertips against your legs, causing the muscles to tremble in response to the sensation. Matthew reads your body’s involuntary reaction, shooting another look in your direction.
You bite your lip, your head nodding frantically in an effort to show how much you needed him. Another gasp rips from your throat as Matthew lifts his torso off the bed to press against you.
“Such a desperate thing. Fucking needy for me, aren’t you? My beautiful girl,” he murmurs before capturing your lips in another frenzied kiss.
The kisses deepen, each of you exploring the other’s mouth. You feel Matthew’s hands lift to undo the zipper on your back and your own hands fall to tug at the soft material of his sweater. You both break apart, pulling the offending material over each other’s head and exposing his and your warm skin.
You hear Matthew quietly curse at the sight of your bare chest, his hand splayed on your back as he pulls you closer, his lips landing on your collarbone before trailing down to your breasts. A moan falls as he teases your nipples with his mouth and your hands shoot down to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the belt before tearing the leather away. Your hands return to unbutton and unzip the denim enough for you to slip your hand underneath the material. Your warm palm presses against his cock, stroking him slowly, Matthew uttering another curse against your skin.
It isn’t long until Matthew maneuvers the two of you to stand at the foot of the bed, kisses never ceasing. Your hands make quick work of the remaining clothes hanging from Matthew’s frame, pushing his jeans and underwear down onto the carpet. He kisses you once more as he kicks the clothes to the side before he breaks away.
“All fours, baby.”
The demand was one that you are all too eager to follow. You climb back onto the mattress, arching your spine towards him in a silent plea. You sigh in relief as you feel the mattress sink underneath the weight of Matthew climbing up behind you. It quickly turns to a moan as you feel him stroke the tip of his dick over your folds, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.
“Pretty pussy is so wet for me,” he mutters, more so to himself than to you but you find yourself nodding in agreement as you jut your hips back, hoping he would soon press himself into you. His strong grip halts your movements, a chuckle rumbling from his chest at your desperation.
“Please, Matty. Don’t make me beg.”
Matthew leans over you, his lips pressing gently into your spine, a strong juxtaposition to the feeling of his length rubbing against your folds, sliding against your clit. The sensation makes your cunt clench, more of your arousal dripping out and coating the smooth skin of his shaft.
“But you’re so gorgeous when you beg.”
“And here I was thinking you were treating me,” you huff, not in maliciousness but just pure lust.
Matthew must have taken your retort as a challenge because before you can get another word out, he thrusts himself into your core with a force that steals the remaining breath from your lungs.
“Want to repeat that, sweetheart?” he questions and you shake your head as he continues to rock into you, the only sounds able to escape your throat are soft moans.
Your sounds fuel him on, his hands tightening around your hips as he pulls you in to meet his thrusts, the lewd sounds of him slapping against you filling the bedroom. His eyes are glued to where the two of you connect, watching as your cunt greedily swallows all of him.
“Look so fucking perfect like this.”
His praise warms you from the inside out and spurs you on even more. You take control of the motions, fucking yourself back onto him, the moans that fall from his lips encouraging you to continue. His hands move from your hips to trace up the curves of your body before dancing across your shoulder blades and back down your spine. The contrast between his forceful thrusts and the ways his fingertips dance across your skin drives you insane, the absolute need for him reaching another level. Matthew’s hands continue to stroke your body, his arm dipping beneath you. Suddenly, he pulls your body upright so your back ends up pressed against his chest.
“So beautiful,” he whispers into your hair, his hips never ceasing their motions. The new angle of your body allows the tip of Matthew’s cock to brush against that delicious spot inside you, the feeling forcing your hand to fly back to the nape of his neck to steady yourself, your head falling against his shoulder.
Matthew takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, marking you again as his strong arms stay wrapped around your torso, holding you steady as your legs start to tremble. You feel his hand stretch against the soft skin of your lower stomach before it sinks low enough to dip between your folds, his calloused fingertips connecting to your clit.
“Oh God, fuck, Matty,” you whine as his hand rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“That’s right, baby. Let me hear you. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”
His encouragement allows you to let go, the moans falling freely as he continues to play with your clit, his thrusts hitting deeper than you ever felt before, pushing you closer and closer to that precipice.
“Come on, sweetheart. Want to feel that perfect cunt tighten around me when you cum.”
You don’t need any more incentive, your orgasm rocketing through you, your entire body shaking as you succumbed to the waves of pleasure radiating from your lower stomach out to the tips of your limbs. You hear Matthew mutter a curse against your neck, his teeth digging into your skin as he thrusts into you a final time before his own peak hits him, the sensation of your orgasm pushing him to completion.
Your body feels lax as you lean against Matthew, his arms still holding you close as both of you come down, your mixed staccato breathing slowing to satisfied sighs. Matthew moves first, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple before delicately removing himself from your core. His hands adjust your body until you are laying against the sheets, tired and spent. Matt gently throws a blanket over you, the sweat starting to cool on your skin, pressing another kiss onto your forehead before leaving the room.
Your gaze stays glued to the doorway, although it is a fight to keep your eyes open, eyelids heavy with fatigue. Thankfully, it isn’t long until Matthew comes waltzing back into the room, a pair of sweatpants low on his hips, a washcloth and a bottle of Gatorade in each hand.
You can’t stop the giggle that escapes as he hands you the drink, lifting your tired body up to rest against the pillows before taking a sip. Matthew sits on the mattress, facing you as he lifts the damp washcloth to brush away the dried sweat from your hairline, your neck, your chest, before dipping between your thighs to wipe away the sticky residue of your combined release from your soft skin. You let him take care of you, accepting his hand as he helps lift you from the bed and leads you to the bathroom.
He leaves you with a kiss, letting you complete your bedtime routine. And when you leave the master bathroom, you see Matthew finish placing a new set of bedsheets on the mattress. He sees you standing in the doorway, a smile appearing on his face as you walk over and climb into bed. Matthew quickly follows, sneaking underneath the blankets, his arms reaching out to you and pulling you close.
The two of you lay there for a moment in silence, taking in the sound of the other’s breathing and the warmth of each other’s embrace, before Matthew speaks.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, his eyes connecting to yours through the darkness. “For everything you’ve accomplished. You’re amazing.”
You lean forward, pressing another kiss into his lips – a kiss that he immediately deepens, your limbs tangling together until it was hard to tell where one of you ended and the other began. Eventually, you pull away, ducking your head to curl up against Matthew’s chest. The grips of sleep almost take you immediately, but you stay awake long enough to reply.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
The last think you register is the vibration of a chuckle emanating from Matthew at your playful chirp and the feeling of his lips burying themselves in your hair before sleep finally overtakes you.
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tagging one of my fav matty lovers, @tkachvkmatthew
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sugumii · 1 year
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Good day or night to you, Suga! I was stalki-- i mean scrolling your blog and saw the mini event. Then the devil within me has risen and boldly ask you one more time! I don't know if it is your cup of tea or not, so feel free to accept it at your will. So here we go: As their lover, today the reader is a bit daring. For some reason, we are sitting on their lap and teasing our HSR men to our heart content. He can't hold back and wants to embrace us? Nuh-uh, his hands are tied behind (thanks to Kafka or Natasha taught us lol 💀). He wants to kiss us back, no, not yet. But little the reader knows, our men miraculously freed themselves at some point and strike back, so prepare for the consequence of teasing him. I'm thinking about tying down Blade, Jing Yuan and Sampo, or anyone that you come up with ❤ I love your writting so much ahhh i wanna keep reading them ❤🌹✨
HSR Men x Reader: Tying them up. (Suggestive Content.)
I DID MY BEST. I know it took a while, but I was really out here rewriting and re-editing this to make sure it wasn't OOC. Finally, it is here.
Part 2? Who wants to bribe me to include the last three characters or make a continuation? (jk jk... unless.)
WARNINGS: Suggestive content, mentions of biting, and blood.
18+ ONLY!!!
Jing Yuan:
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“Darling…”
“Hush, Jing Yuan. We’ve only just begun.” You whispered seductively, lightly nibbling at the general’s ear. His body tensed as a light blush came onto his cheeks. Something that didn’t happen often at all. He was beautiful like this.
“Are you enjoying yourself, love?” You murmur into his ear while your hands traveled up and down his toned chest. Even through his thick attire, you felt the ridges and outlines of his abdominal muscles. Jing Yuan lightly tugged at the silky red rope restricting his hands as he groaned at the feeling of your soft kisses.
“Yes, I can’t deny it… You’re so beautiful. So enticing.”
“Really?”
You watched your husband’s reaction as you placed more tender kisses down his neck, enjoying the feeling of his struggles against the binds. You knew he wanted to touch you so badly, how his lips craved yours, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. No… not yet.
His long silver hair was in slight disarray and you felt a few stray strands tickle your left cheek while you placed love bites on his neck. His chest heaved up and down with ragged breaths as he groaned lightly at the pleasure.
“Beloved... I want to kiss you more than you could ever imagine right now. Why don't you be a good s/o and let me free?" The general said, attempting to coax you into freeing him of his binds. Of course, he was a patient man, having encountered countless trials in his younger years. He firmly believed in the art of perseverance and patience, but as of right now, he felt a fire burning within him. The way his face felt like it could erupt into flames at any given moment and the intense heat he felt in his groin. You were truly testing his patience.
“I said no, love.” You whispered teasingly into his ear, pulling back to take in his face. With a trembling lip and slightly watering eyes, the general had what resembled a slight pout. Heavy breathing filled the empty room as his eyes held a look of irritation. “My, my, how very unlike the general. To be seen like this, why this is an unexpected reaction.”
Something in him snapped at that moment. Your words triggered a newfound anger in his veins as a sudden snap was heard. To your surprise, the binds that once restricted the larger man now lay in shreds on the floor and his hands suddenly pinned yours above your head. His other hand rested firmly on your waist, pulling you flush with his body. Jing Yuan whispered into your ear with a cruel gaze and a mischievous grin, biting the tip of your ear.
“Let the fun begin, love.”
Blade:
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“Is this some kind of joke?” Cold eyes pierced your smaller form seated on his lap. He remained still, cold and calculating eyes analyzing your every moment. You shuddered.
“I told you Kafka taught me how to tie someone up… isn’t is cool?” You offered him a nervous smile.
“…”
“…”
Sweat now dripped down your neck as a shiver went down your spine. Blade’s gaze was icy and unforgiving, it was as if he was murdering you with his gaze. Even as his lover he could be quite terrifying at times, but here you were now... You couldn’t back down. Gently, you leaned into his chest as he watched you, leaning to kiss his jaw quickly.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/n.” Blade looks down at you with an evil glint in his eye. A slight smirk adorned his features the moment he felt your gentle kisses along his jawline. He almost shivered in excitement at your defiance, eager to put you in your place... to make you submit to him. Oh, how he wanted to corrupt you. The audacity you had to put him in such a humiliating position… you were sure to pay.
With ease, the binds that once restricted the man were broken as he immediately trapped you with his strong grasp. You gasped when his lips were on your neck, biting harshly at the delicate skin and drawing blood. The dark-haired male smirked against you and with his tongue, lapped up the delicious crimson liquid. You almost moaned in response.
With that, Blade pulled away and looked you straight in the eyes. He had a sadistic smirk, his eyes lighting up with mischief. The gloved hand on your back easily conquered both your hands in one swift motion rendering you motionless.
“You naughty girl/boy... How dare you go this far with your tricks.”
And now… 4/5 were to pay a price. One of them was you.
Dan Heng:
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Dan Heng found himself in quite the predicament.
He looked up at you with a pleading gaze, pulling at the restraints that bound his hands together behind his back.
“Darling… please… let me touch you.”
You sat on top of his lap with a sadistic smirk, looking down at him in amusement. It filled you with joy to see your lover begging to let him touch you- something you didn’t get to see often. You’re surprised he even let you do this to him. The fact he agreed was enough to send an excited shiver down your spine and to quickly pull out the silky rope you had bought at a toy shop in Jarilo-VI.
“Maybe if you keep begging…” You whispered into his ear with a seductive tone. With your free hand, you lightly traced it up and down his chest, oozing with anticipation at the delicious reactions he made. The way his eyes widened and how his chest heaved up and down with every touch you made on his body, pleased you- fueling your ego. Who knew your boyfriend could be such a bottom after all?
“Pl-please… Y/n… I want to touch you.”
“You’ll have to wait, my love. Be a good boy for me and wait for me, won’t you?”
Shivers went up and down your lover’s spine as he watched your each and every move with eagerness. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest with the amount of pleasure he felt. The way you placed gentle kisses all over his neck, nipping and sucking at the bare flesh until it left a hickey, turned him on. His desire to turn the tables and return the favor intensified. Oh, how he wanted to touch you. To place his lips onto yours and to worship your body.
He needed you. Badly.
Again, Dan Heng bargained, tugging at his restraints in an attempt to free himself.
“Please, darling… I just want to make you feel good. I can’t any mo-“
“Quiet, Dan Heng. You don’t speak unless spoken to." You said with a stern voice, watching as said male’s eyes widened even more.
You… since when did you become so demanding? Did you really think you were in control of the situation? That’s it… Dan Heng had enough. He wasn’t used to being bossed around in the bedroom and it sure as hell wasn’t going to continue any longer now. You’ve had your fun while it lasted.
“You’re asking for punishment, darling.” Dan Heng’s voice lowered an octave as his eyes glared at you with slight anger. So this was how it’s gonna be? Fine. He’ll just have to force you to remember your place, just as he always had before.
With a newfound strength, Dan Heng's dragon form emerged as he pulled hard at the rope and with one powerful tug, freed himself. He watched as your mouth parted in a gasp at his brute strength, not having expected him to break free. Your face held a nervous look and you stuttered, “A-ah… How…? Dan Heng… I was just playing, you know!”
“Playing?" His face drew in closer, lips mere centimeters apart.
"Oh, I'll show you playing."
Sampo:
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“Hey, hey…! Love, please let me…”
“No, Koski. This is your punishment for scamming me again.” You smiled, placing sloppy kisses all over his neck. The man whimpered and groaned in response.
“But- mmph…!”
An evil grin was plastered against your face as your teeth sunk into his delicate skin. This had to be his sweet spot if it made that loud of a reaction from him. You continued nipping and sucking at it, grazing at his tender flesh with your bare teeth. The action caused a shiver to go down the male’s spine as he released a shaky sigh.
“Please… I won’t do it again! Honest… I’ll even give you a cut of the spoils… just let me-“
“Koski.” You said with an irritated tone. “Shut. Your. Mouth.”
Sampo’s eyes widened at your hostile tone and he silenced immediately. His face was warm to the touch and his eyes were in a daze. He felt as if his whole body was tingling at your every touch. Fuck… he wanted to touch you so bad. To hold you and kiss you.
He once again pulled at the restraints, attempting to free himself. He was gasping and groaning at your every kiss, mind high in pleasure at the pleasure you gave him from your mere kisses alone. Was this really happening? The Sampo Koski being at the mercy of his loyal client. Oh, how the tables have turned. He drew in a sharp breath at the sensation of your lips on him.
“Please…! Don’t make me beg. Sampo wants to touch you.”
“Hmm?” You pulled back on his lap and chuckled at his facial expression. His cheeks were a dark red and his mouth was parted open, drawing in deep breaths. His hair was a bit sweaty as it stuck to his forehead. “Is this another one of your tricks, Koski? How can I be sure you won’t scam me again?”
“You have my word…! Just please- lemme touch you!”
The sight before you made an excited shudder go down your body. You were pleased, ecstatic even at his change in demeanor. The oh-so-cunning and sneaky salesman was now reduced to a begging and pleading man. How delicious.
“Alright.”
You smiled at the sight of his eyes lighting up and his body eagerly leaning into yours to allow you to untie his ropes. The moment you loosened them, he immediately broke free and grinned mischievously. His arms engulfed your smaller body and pulled you impossibly close to his chest. You blushed as you felt his lips at your ear, grinning widely and nibbling at it.
“Now… allow me to make amends. I wouldn’t want to leave a customer unsatisfied, after all.”
(This is my first time writing romantic stuff like this. Nobody judge me if it’s bad.)
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"Where are the spooky gays" this and "where are the spooky gays" that
WHERE ARE THEY ALL AT???? WHERE DID THEY GO?? WILL THEY EVER RETURN???
APPARENTLY ITS BEEN 4 YEARS SINCE THE WEDDING EPISODE??? AKA THE LAST SIGNIFICANT PLOT POINT??
I miss them
I feel like im in my Steven Universe era where the show was in a everlasting hiatus. Where are they, Mr sanders??? What have you done with them/lighthearted
-🐀
They're all trapped in the secret Beach episode /joking No but controversial take that will absolutely get an angry mob at me but I don't give a shit at this point and this is not directed to you at all 🐀 Anon I've just been in this fandom for 7 years and I'm tired of biting my tongue /genuine But y'all need to understand that if we didn't have the Asides/Short vids, The Incorrect Quotes, The Photoshoots, Bloops, etc. then we would have not seen the Sides at all in the span of 4 years (That's 1,475 days) and even through said 4 years there was a pandemic, a hurricane that quite literally flooded the shit out of Thomas' old office, and a stress related condition that quite literally made this man not even wanna look at himself (If you think this is 'babying' him actually touch a dictionary) I know this might come as a surprise especially with the old memes I used to make on this blog and with how most countdown blogs are now but I'm probably the only one in this fandom who honestly doesn't care for the wait due to watching literally everything he makes. He's juggling different projects, he's preforming in more theater stuff, he's making a lot of music for a 4 part season finale along with a possible prologue, he's trying to get back into the swing of things and getting over his intimidation of doing main series characterization of the Sides and all we can do is wait and continue making more beautiful content for the fandom to enjoy and gush about the characters and ships we love. I'd rather watch something that was written with time and patience than rushed and hear more bitching from the fandom for something they wanted.
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teatreeoilll · 5 months
Text
|| Temptation (Satoru Gojo X Reader) ||
(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(
While hoping to be reinstated in the Jujutsu world, you meet with the teacher you had a crush on in your school days.
I wrote this while drunk, I think that says it all.
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Image credits to user blueparadis.
"Why'd you call me Sensei?" Gojo chuckled, his long fingers reaching his blindfold, holding it up to let one eye peek from under it. You take a seat across from him. "I was only your teacher for a year, and that was ages ago."
He was right, of course, but the air of his office and the familiar smell of the chrysanthemum bushes outside the window had brought back too many memories of your last year at Jujutsu High; your mind had no trouble flashing the images of late nights and talks with your then best friends.
2009
"I think I might fail this year," you'd laugh, covering your mouth with your hand, thinking it would hush your uncalled-for remarks you'd whisper in the middle of training sessions, "I mean what is he, a few years older than us?"
On weekend nights, the few students in your grade would gather in one of the rooms, trying to muffle the 'tsssk' sound the opening of the drinks they managed to smuggle for these occasions would produce. At most of these gatherings, the tougher subjects would be tactfully avoided, no talk about missions and curses, or mentions of horrible past incidents were allowed.
There wasn't much left to chat about after the rules were unanimously established, and so most nights your classmates would group together laughing at the feelings you've managed to develop for your new teacher. The running joke had always made your cheeks flush red. "Oh, Gojo-Sensei, your eyes are so blue!" A boy from your class would make a lousy impression of your voice that would always elicit laughter from the group, "Oh, Gojo-Sensei, could you tutor me?"
Even at that age, you liked to think that no one apart from your friends could observe the crush you've steadily developed. However, especially when hearing your whispers, your teacher had always felt that was an insult to his self-proclaimed skills of deduction. Gojo would make sure to pause his enthusiastic explanations to put a large hand on your shoulder just to watch you blush, and your classmates giggle. He was far too determined to take advantage of each lesson to bask in the feeling of your attentive gaze.
present day
"I'm sorry," you mutter, "Old habits." His limbs are sprawled on the shiny leather of the chair as he talks ; "Are you thinking of returning to the Jujutsu world? If so, I think there are more suitable people to talk to." He noticed your gaze shifting downwards, he didn't mean any harm with his words, but you couldn't help but feel unwanted in the room.
"I'm sorry to be a bother, I just thought that -" "Ah, I'm sorry. You probably just came to visit your old Sensei you used to crush on." He snickers. Getting up from his seat, he walks around the large desk, just to put a hand on your shoulder the way he remembered would make you blush. "What? I -," You struggle to find the words, your gaze still fixed on your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "I - I never had a crush on you."
Your words seemed to him as a personal challenge. The determination to make you admit it excited every cell in his body as he kneeled before you, the grin widening on his face when he grabbed your fidgeting hand to hold gently, the sudden touch making you raise your eyes to glance at him.
He hardly changed, you thought, his mannerisms still as shameless as they were back then, his touch still making your stomach flutter. "Nothing to be ashamed about," He declares, "It was your last year, and this young, attractive man comes in -" "Gojo Se-" you stop yourself from saying the word that so easily excited him to go down this path, "Gojo, I'm really only here to talk my reinstatement."
His thumb moves slightly over the back of your hand, the walls of the room closed in on you when the heat from his hand runs straight to your head. "Sure," He lets out another small chuckle before putting on a serious expression, "Just as soon as you'll admit it."
He watches your brows furrow. "I see you've learned nothing. The first rule of Jujutsu is that honesty makes you more powerful," The snarky comment makes you cross your arms. You yank your hand back, and the chair scratches the floor under you when you get up.
"That's childish," You inhale a sharp breath, but his immaturity, as most spiteful characteristics, rubs off on you. "Might you be so stubborn because you're the one who had a crush on me?" You spew, stunned at your own unsophisticated comment.
"Who says I didn't?" He gets up from his knee to face you once again, his unwavering enthusiasm makes it hard to control your pent-up urge to both pull him to you, and shove him away. Huh?
"Never mind that," He suddenly says.
"What do you mean, never mind that?" You cock your head to the side, confused at the sudden change of heart he displayed. "I don't need you to admit it anymore," You watch the corners of his mouth twitch lightly before widening back to a broad grin, "You already did, little tomato."
Your hands shot up to feel your own cheeks, the heat radiating to the palms of your hands. You were sure you looked like you'd just run a marathon. "Alright, little tomato, you can ask about the other things now," He smiles, leaning back on his desk. A thought crosses your head that even Alexander the Great didn't beam like that when bringing the Persian Empire to its knees.
"Don't call me that," you protest. With each response he'd evoke from you, he'd find himself more captivated, seizing the moment to push himself off of the desk only to stand closer to you. "Why not, little tomato?" He'd found himself too fond of the new nickname, his face so close to yours you couldn't ignore it if you tried. His blindfold sat peacefully at the crook of his neck, his hair splayed on his forehead, eyes agonizing to look at; looking half at you and half through you.
The childish-like oblivious manner of your feelings had disappeared as soon as his lips brushed on yours, the pit of your stomach spinning and swirling at the fantasies you thought you'd left behind years ago. He snorted a little when you pressed your lips against his, his hands impulsively gripping your thighs.
He groans between the kisses; "I really see I've taught you nothing, little tomato," He murmured, "The second rule is never letting your opponent know he's got the upper hand."
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rottenrosethorns · 1 year
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HI HI!! i love ur blog sm i had to request something!! can we pls get some fluffy leon hcs where he's playing w his partner's hair? or caressing their skin, anything along those lines🥺
im touch starved istg
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x gn!reader 
Genre: Headcanons, Fluff 
Synopsis: Leon’s love language is physical touch – Leon takes you on a surprise date to the local carnival! 
Word Count: 1.4K 
Warnings: mentions of carnivals but no clowns, large crowds, mentions of social anxiety 
A/N: I don’t know how to write headcanons lol. So, hopefully this is okay for the first time. I also don’t know how to keep things short and sweet, I was itching to write a whole ass fic for this LMAO. thank you anon for the idea and for loving my humble blog! <3
__________
- masterlist - 
__________
You always found it surprising that Leon would put 110% effort in planning your monthly date nights. Usually, he’s cool, calm, and collected, so you didn’t strike him as the type to become giddy about some outing; however, Leon always managed to prove you wrong. He was an excellent planner thanks to all the years of training his observation skills. 
He knew exactly what you liked and didn’t like. So even if you hated surprises, Leon would always orchestrate the date accordingly and ease into the activity he knew you’d enjoy. 
Plus, you trusted him more than you trusted your anxiety!
Before you even leave the house, Leon's sitting on the closed lid of the bathroom toilet, watching as you get yourself ready for whatever outing he'd been brewing for the past week. His eyes would be keen on you the entire time, shifting to look at your reflection in the mirror, then back towards you. 
Since he doesn’t want to interrupt your work – you are putting in the time and energy to look good for him after all – Leon resorts to verbal compliments and being your personal hype boy. 
You'd usually listen to music or play a video to accompany your routine, but nowadays, Leon was the only companion you needed. 
Leon can't sit still for long, so he'll be hovering all around you. One moment, he's standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your midriff to catch you in a tight back hug. Next, he's turning you around with his hands on your hips as he tries to convince you that you don't need anything to make you look more breathtaking than you already were. 
You pinch him arm gently, warning him that he'll make you both late if he keeps distracting you. So, he offers to help you with your hair instead. 
The man wants to be involved! Let him dote on you! 
Surprisingly, Leon's decent as a hairstylist. Experienced from handling young Sherry’s hair, Leon forcibly learned almost any and all basic hairstyles. He'll be extra gentle with you though, making sure not to pull too tight or harshly brush through knots. If he's feeling a bit childish, he'll try to tickle your earlobes. But when you get annoyed, he'll offer an apologetic kiss on your neck before neatly finishing his style. 
Sometimes he’ll ask what style you want, but most times you let him decide for you. Secretly, you know he enjoys dolling you up to his expectations, so as long as it looks well kept, you didn’t mind what he did for you. 
Leon's not the best driver, so unfortunately, he can't do the one hand driving, one hand on your left thigh ordeal. No matter how much he wants to be cool, he doesn't have the confidence to drive without two hands on the wheel like a teen who'd just gotten their permit. 
It's okay though, because he'll interlace his fingers with yours and softly kiss the back of your hand at red lights. Maybe, he can sneak in a peck when there's traffic too. 
Leon always opens the door for you and offers a helping hand which never lets go unless absolutely necessary. It's not uncommon for couples to hold hands in public, but when he's brought you to the local carnival with an abundance of people, he's definitely making sure you don't get lost in the crowd. Your safety comes first after all. 
If you get anxious around a lot of people, Leon will either rub his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly as he whispers some reassuring words for you or he'll move so that his body acts as a sort of barrier. 
You'll always follow closely behind him, tugging at his clothes just in case your hands disconnected for whatever reason. Once you're out of the crowd, Leon will make sure you're feeling okay before holding you closer by latching his arm around your waist. 
It’s a win-win for the both of you. You get to feel his warmth from his protection, and he gets to ward off anyone who thinks they have a chance with you. Boy is possessive, so don’t stray too far! 
If you get self-conscious about PDA, Leon will pout, but he'll get over it. As much as he wants to smother you in kisses for the world to see that you are his lover, Leon would never force you to be in an uncomfortable situation especially in public. 
Therefore, he'll compromise with a ghost touch at the small of your back or a soft grip on your shoulder. He'll know he's doing okay because you'll subconsciously lean closer to him and sometimes put a hand on top of his. 
The both of you will explore the carnival grounds for a while, trying your hand at a few carnival games. Of course, Leon is very competitive in nature and an excellent marksman, so he'll absolutely ace at any and all shooter games. But this time, he'll push you up to the podium this time and help you win your own prize. 
He'll stand behind you with both hands on your shoulders as he tells you to focus on the three glass bottles. He gives clear instructions, waiting for you to nod your head or make a noise in confirmation before sliding his arms down yours and aiming the toy gun towards the bottles. 
He'll hover towards your level, chin resting on the curvature of your shoulder. He does this to help see how you’re aiming, but he purposely pushes himself closer to tease you. He can’t help that you’re just smaller than him and that your figure is always begging for him to embrace you. 
He knows you're nervous, but he wants you to win, so he'll wrap his hands around your shaking hands, gripping the stock to stabilize you and the gun before shifting your aim. Once lined up, he'll let you pull the trigger on your own, successfully knocking down the three bottles. Elated, you turn and envelope yourself into a congratulatory hug before happily accepting the prize. 
When you're both hungry and take a seat at an open table to snack on the overpriced carnival food, Leon now does the hand on the thigh thingy. 
He'll go the extra mile and hook your leg over his, so that you're partially thrown over his lap as he traces random lines on your skin. Again, if you're anxious about large crowds, this'll soothe you. 
You can't say you've been to a carnival if you hadn't gone on the ferris wheel, right? Is it very obvious that he plans to seal the night with a romantic kiss at the top of the ride? Yes. But, you'll pretend you don't know what he's planning to do. 
Leon's never truly loved someone before, so don't blame him when he gets all his ideas from cheesy romance movies. You'd never expose him though, because you didn't mind being the main character sometimes. 
You can tell he's nervous, his eyes are watching the wheel spin round and round as you wait in line. Now it's your turn to calm his nervousness down as you wrap yourself on his bicep and lean your head on his muscles. He'll look away with a soft, goofy smile before taking his free hand and giving you a soft head pat to silently thank you. 
Once on the ride, Leon prefers that you sit next to him. Although he liked looking at you sitting across from him, Leon felt much more comfortable with you by his side, especially when you both were swinging higher than the treetops. 
As the ride begins to move, Leon will wrap an arm around your side, planting a firm grip on your hip and pulling you close to him. Even when the cart shakes, Leon's hold is firm and keeps you stable, but that doesn't prevent you from fearfully gripping his midsection.
He'll let out a teasing laugh at your timid reaction and press a kiss on your temple as you hide your face in his chest. 
Once at the very top, Leon will uncover you and take a moment to admire you. He's very keen on eye contact, so he'll hold your chin with his fingers as he expresses how much he loves you. He'll slide his fingers until they're placed on the side of your neck and pull you in for that cliche kiss to perfectly end the night.
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kaleldobrev · 7 months
Text
Prologue — Take Me Back Series
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Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
Series Summary: After making a deal to bring you back, Sam doesn't see you until years later when your paths cross during a case
Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hi, I just joined Tumblr and came across your blog, it's wonderful! I'd like to make a request, something between Sam and reader. The reader dies and Sam makes a pact to bring her back, but she comes back without remembering him and the hunting life. He thinks it's best to stay away from her. Years later they meet and she falls in love with him all over again, and when they kiss she regains her memory. Do you like it?
Chapter Word Count: 1.3k
Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Sad Sam Winchester
Authors Note: I hope you enjoy the Prologue of the Take Me Back mini-series! | This was originally supposed to be just a one-shot | Also Y/N is not in this chapter, but she'll be in the next one! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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Four Years Ago...
With a snap of the small metal box, Sam placed it back into the crossroads and buried it, taking a deep breath. Turning around, a brunette woman appeared, wearing a long black gown. "Ah Sam Winchester, what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked, a slight smile on her lips.
"You already know," Sam replied, voice stern.
"You want your girlfriend back," she answered, and Sam nodded. "See, here's the thing about that. I would love more than anything to bring her back so the two of you can live happily ever after. I'm a sucker for romance."
Sam scoffed. "I'm sure you are. So can you bring her back or not?" He asked, his hand slowly starting to move into his back pocket, gently gripping the demon knife.
"Release your hand from that knife and then we can talk," she smirked. Sam and her exchanged looks briefly before he released his hand from the knife, placing his hands in front so she could see them bare. "That's more like it," she smiled. "So, there's the deal. I can bring her back, but...there's a catch," she said, flashing her whitest smile.
"I know there's a catch. Me and my brother have made plenty of demon deals," he replied. "Ten years, or me and my brother do you a favor and not kill you."
She let out a small laugh. "You boys know that ten-year deal is never on the table for you, and as much as I would love having a Winchester owe me one, you boys almost never hold up your end." She started walking toward him now, and her hands fell to his chest, which tightened at her touch. "I can bring her back, and you don't have to owe me a thing but, the catch is," she leaned in, whispering in his ear, "she won't remember you or the hunting life."
"What do you mean she won't remember me?" He asked, his voice slightly hurtful.
"Sweetie, what part of she won't remember you can't you wrap your gigantic head around? Tsk. Tsk," she moved around him, her hands gripping his muscular arms. "I bring her back, she doesn't remember you or hunting. I say that's a pretty sweet deal."
Sam wanted you back, needed you back. You didn't deserve to die the way that you did; especially because it was his fault, a true accident. Something that he would never forgive himself for, for as long as he lived.
You were his person, the love of his life; the first woman he's truly loved in a long time. Someone who, after years of struggling, finally let break down those walls of his that he had spent years and years working on in order to protect himself from further hurt. Before you, he had told himself that he was done with relationships, done with romance in general; he didn't really see the point as all of his romantic ventures always ended up just like this. But for you, he made the exception; being solely your friend was something he just couldn't do anymore.
After years of pining after you and finally being able to call you his, it was now a Catch-22 for him. He could either have you be brought back to life and no longer have you in his life or you would be dead and gone for good, still no longer having you in his life. But maybe, despite not having you in his life, this was the best-case scenario for you. Not only would you be alive and well, but you would be able to live your life in safety and without the previous traumas of the hunting life you were so privy to.
With a small sigh Sam said, "Do it," almost responding through gritted teeth.
"You know the deal," she smirked. "Pucker up Buttercup."
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Present Day...
Sam's alarm went off the same time as it normally did, and he quickly shut it off, softly groaning. Today was the day that he had been dreading for weeks, although he had been mentally preparing himself. At this point, he thought that this would become just another average day for him to get through, a day that he would slowly forget over time; but this day in particular had become so ingrained in his memory that he would not be forgetting this day any time soon: your birthday. He had spent countless birthday's with you, before and during the time that the two of you were together.
Sam was never really a person that liked to celebrate his birthday, it was just another day for him. But when he met you, he learned to appreciate every single birthday, especially because of something that you had said to him. "It's another year that I can celebrate being alive."
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Sitting at the edge of his bed, he rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep from them. Sighing, he got up and started making his way into the kitchen; and much to his surprise, his older brother was already up making breakfast on the stove, a fresh pot of coffee already made on the counter. "Good morning Sunshine," Dean grinned, as he slowly worked on the scrambled eggs before him.
"Morning," Sam replied, his voice monotone. He walked over to the mugs, grabbing one and sighing as he examined it. You had given him his mug.
Dean looked up, noticing the slight hesitation in Sam's movements, and saw the mug that he was currently holding. Fuck, I forgot to hide it today, Dean thought to himself. "Give me that mug will ya? I'll put it some place else."
Sam looked over at his brother, continuing to hold the mug in his hands as Dean held out his hand to take the mug. "It's fine," he replied, pouring the coffee into the mug before sitting down at the island. "You know what today is right?"
"Y/N's birthday," Dean said, as he started making up the two plates of food. "I uh, I tried making the eggs the same way she would make them in honor of today."
"Thanks," Sam said, taking one of the plates from his brother. "I thought I'd be over this by now," he confessed. "It's been what? Four years."
"Sam, she was in our lives for six years," Dean began. "I don't expect you to just get over it," he stated. And he really didn't, Hell, even he wasn't completely over it. Although he didn't have the same relationship with you that Sam had had, he deeply cared for you. You were one of his best friends, someone that he considered family, and you were gone in seconds. But despite losing you and hurting, the hurt that he felt was extremely different compared to that of Sam's hurt. You were the love of his life, the first woman that Sam had let himself love in a long time. He loved you more than anyone, and you were ripped away. "Did you want to do something for her birthday?"
Sam shook his head. "Honestly no," he said, his voice a mixture of tired and defeated. "There's no point if she's not here. I just want to work."
"Are you sure?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam confirmed.
"Well, in that case, if you're up for it, there seems to be something that might be right up our alley in Kansas City," Dean said, sliding the newspaper over to Sam. "Five runaways have been killed in less than one month at the same shelter."
As Sam examined the news story he raised a brow. "Y/N's shelter," he commented, sliding the paper back over to his brother.
"Shit," Dean said, "Sorry, I had no idea," he lied. "I can uh...I can call another hunter to go and check it out or I can always bring Cas or Jack along instead."
"No, no. I'll go," Sam said. The last thing he needed was for Jack or Cas to accidently say something to you; at least Sam knew better not to say anything.
"You gonna be okay?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I gotta be," he responded.
"Perfect! We leave in thirty!" Dean smiled, as he clapped his hands together.
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In the next chapter...
“It’s better this way. She’s…she’s not in danger anymore,” Sam said, his voice defeated. He was miserable without you, but you being safe was all that mattered to him.
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