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#like how dare i even bother and i have felt that way for years and it’s kinda terrible that i still feel it. but also my entire existential
pepprs · 2 years
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the absolutely UNBEARABLE ordeals of a) having nothing new to contribute to this intersection bc ppl already found it and all the scholars have already said everything im saying and b) knowing that on top of this my contributions are lackluster because i am stupid and profoundly mentally ill 🥰
#purrs#prof ******: this is just an undergraduate project and it’s only the beginning so don’t stress yourself out. me being besties with ***** and#**** and constantly feeling like i have to amount to their caliber and also them being my faculty mentors on this project meaning they have#to grade it and also me drawing from like 5 things they wrote to use in my own thing and also having *****’s voice in my head abt the advice#he got writing his dissertation and knowing that i am NOT writing a dissertation but also im doing something that is that big for me at this#stage of my life: 🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠 and they would be HORRIFIED if they knew i have this imposter syndrome about them specifically and this is#what prof brown warned me about in nov 2020 and i had like 5 breakdowns over it but still went on ahead and now every time i do anything i f#feel like im chaining all my limbs to the wall and splaying out my stomach and saying hi nice sharp talons you got there i sure do look very#much like prey right now jsut a thought. bc they’re supposed to be helping me fly and they are it’s just i am so deeply mentally ill about#needing to be on their level even though im an undergrad LMFAOOOO but also i am on their level but also im not. everyone who knows me irl an#is reading this post: 🤨🙄 but like yeahhhjjj naur i uhjmmmm. like it’s all gonna get better once i graduate and have at least one degree in t#this and finally get to start contributing to the literature alongside these fucking pioneers and titans of this field but right now it’s li#like how dare i even bother and i have felt that way for years and it’s kinda terrible that i still feel it. but also my entire existential#situation rn explains it so 💖 but yeah. anyway i feel like i am sticking a fork in a socket rn with this project and it makes me want to not#exist but it will be fine and it will be over soon but im losing my mind w overwhelm and distress rn LOL but also i am normal and it’s nothi#nothing to worry about bc this too shall pass and im on the verge of getting better 🙏🏻💕#DELETE LATER#very cringe of me to post abt this stuff to all my mutuals and not like talk to the ppl directly involved in the situation to try to make it#better but i don’t have the capacity for that rn and frankly neither do they LMFSOOOOOOO
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scudslut · 2 months
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Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness
daryl x fem!reader
wordcount: 4.7k
warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining
a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33
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Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.
A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.
It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.
It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.
Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.
He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.
He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?
Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.
And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.
He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'. 
It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.
Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.
"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.
“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.
Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”  
You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.” 
His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.
“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.
Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.
His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.
“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water. 
“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily. 
He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.
"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.
He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.
For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?
‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly. 
But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy. 
He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.
He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.
You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.
“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away. 
It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.
The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.
He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.
In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.
There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.
Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.
“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?
His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.
No. Surely, he was reading you wrong. 
“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?” 
He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.
He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.
“Can I see?” you asked quietly.
He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank. 
“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.
There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.
"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.
"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”
And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.
“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?
“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.
“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”
His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?
"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.
"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.
"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."
Your crush on him?
"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.
You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"
You nodded.
"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.
"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"
Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”
Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?
Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.
You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.
You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.
He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.
“Hm? Wha’s that?”
He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”
So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.
He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.
You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.
This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.
Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.
In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.
No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.
His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.
He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.
“Daryl,” you gasped above him.
Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”
He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”
“How so?”
He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.
“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.
“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”
He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.
“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”
His thumb pressed firmer.
“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.
He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.
With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.
Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.
Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.
“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.
No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.
He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.
“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.
He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.
“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?
You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.
He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.
"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.
He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.
Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.
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punchliiine · 1 month
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so, i keep getting asks in my inbox about whether shifting is real or not. hello? i mean it when i say it is real. shifting is real. idc how many posts people create in order to make you feel like it's not real or that it's just a teenage phase. it is real.
i have shifted plenty of times. i can fucking promise you that it's real. it will not be blurry or fuzzy or distorted or anything that might come close to a dream. it will not be astral projection, it will not be a psychotic episode or anything people (anti-shifters) say it is.
shifting is real, like so fucking real. and i completely understand how hard it is to trust strangers on internet. and not even strangers, TRUSTING AN IDEA THAT GOES BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION AND THIS REALITY. YOURE PUTTING YOUR FAITH INTO SOMETHING UNKNOWN.
BUT I PROMISE YOU I PROMISE YOU I PROMISE YOU SHIFTING IS REAL!!!!1
i have debunked and tried all those ways in order to find out if it's a lucid dreaming or whatever, i have tried them all. and they all proved to me that shifting is real.
i have healed myself of shit i couldn't have fucking imagined to ever leave me, shit that stained my soul. i have cried, laughed, snorted, breathed, screamed, talked, jumped, slept, touched.. i have lived. LIVED. and it was real, safe, and everything i've ever hoped for. I HAVE FINALLY LIVED FOR MYSELF.
i have met the man that i feel everything for, i touched his hands, i took pictures with him, i heard his voice and it was not something that could be disturbed by poor wifi. i even fucking know what shampoo brand he uses. i got to know him and he got to know ME as well. it is real. it is true. it is not impossible.
i felt it ALL. i promise you i did. ik my promises mean nothing since the whole idea of shifting is just crazy even if people tell you it's not. even if people say it's a religious practice and that it has existed for many years, it's still crazy and i get it. I HAVE BEEN THERE. but that doesn't make it not real.
it is real. those people are real. those experiences are real. everything is real. your scripts are real. shifting is real.
this is not a big inside joke nor is it a coping mechanism for covid or anyone that is mentally unwell. i know it demotivates you seeing tons of shifters trying for years with no progress. i know it demotivates you seeing people shit on shifting because we believe in something that is quite literally beyond everything we, as humans, have ever known. i know it demotivates you seeing tons of shifters saying that they were lying about their experiences and that shifting isn't real. but again, that doesn't mean shifting is not real.
i know these words are recycled and you've heard them plenty of times before, but there is nothing that i could do to make any of you believe me when i say shifting is real. i have had some experiences that me and my friends could vouch for, to prove that shifting is real BUT they could easily be rewritten as lies or me having 'telekinesis' or being set up or whatever. so i really don't wanna bother.
people will always ask for proof and will always try to debunk it, that's the way your brain works and i am not saying you're wrong for doing so or even asking for it. it's normal. but then again, even if i couldn't prove it to you or my attempts to prove it are 'debunked', it doesn't make shifting not real.
you can tell me shifting isn't real day and night, for eternity, but what i have experienced is not a lie. nor is it something that could ever come close to a lie. it is real life.
your belief or faith in shifting is unwavering because you haven't shifted, DUH??? THAT IS NORMAL!!!! but once you shift, come back to this very post and tell me how was it. was it something like a dream? or did you feel everything? consider it a dare.
i am not trying to make an anti-shifter believe, i couldn't care less. but if a shifter thinks about giving up and leaving their wildest dreams behind, please do not (i am going to kill you) do NOT. it is worth it. it is worth all of it and i bet my soul on it.
no matter how perfect your lucid dreams are, no matter how intense your maladaptive daydreams are, no matter WHAT. shifting is nothing of that sort. it is real. it is real. it is real.
i want you to just get out of wherever you are, stand in the wind, smell the air, pinch yourself, splash water on your shirt and feel how cold it gets, eat something sour, look at everything around you and notice the tiniest of details, look real close at a piece of wool and notice the tiny strings. see how you can experience all those in your cr? you can experience all those with shifting too, and infinitely more. shifting is THAT real.
it's okay to doubt, it's okay to need reassurance. it is 100% fine. but what's not okay is you constantly doubting your own power when you've been possessing it the moment you came into consciousness. you'll do wonders once you finally drop your doubts and just give it to yourself.
this is a recycled talk, i completely understand. but please just stop asking for confirmation, you ARE the confirmation.
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thewulf · 1 month
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Never Let You Go || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Hiya! Can i request an angsty/fluffy aaron fic?Aaron and reader get into a fight because reader has been ignoring hotch since he forgot her birthday (its been a week after at that point) so he confronts her and they fight.... Read Rest Here
A/N: You guys have the best requests. Please keep sending them in. Hope you like a good little hurt/comfort.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
TW: Yelling, intentional hurt
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It was a rainy Saturday night when your heart broke for the hundredth time under the false promises from your longtime boyfriend, Aaron. You knew what you were getting into when you got into the relationship all those years ago. You knew he worked long hours. You knew he had a son who was his, and now your, priority. You knew he would have to cancel plans, dates, anniversaries. You knew it all. What you didn’t expect was him to forget about your birthday completely. He was home, at the BAU, and worked late instead of coming home and taking you out. You had plans! But he just… forgot.
It wasn’t until you brought it up the next day, mumbling it to him with a saddened look did he recognize he had forgotten. What broke your heart was the fact that he didn’t even make up for it. He didn’t get you flowers or a gift or even apologize. He just… moved on. And you had no idea how much it bothered you until that fateful Saturday night as the rain poured down. You were angry at him. You had accepted the misses and the cancelations. What you couldn’t get over was the fact that he had forgotten it completely and didn’t even want to make it right.
When you heard the lock twist and Aaron entered your shared residence all you wanted to do was run away from him. You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t even want to look at him. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to be with him anymore.
When he walked into the kitchen you turned away, busying yourself with unloading the dishwasher.
“Hey baby.” He walked over to you giving you a hug from behind. Aaron wasn’t remiss to the way you tensed under his touch. How you simply mumbled something incoherent to him. It was when you pushed him away did he finally realize something was off.
“Honey, what’s up?” He asked.
Was he playing dumb? Did he really not know just how deeply he had hurt you by ignoring something you loved so much? You knew it was silly, but birthdays were your thing. You were the friend who went all out for others. You just wanted someone to celebrate you the way you had to others, especially Aaron.
You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your brain got yourself worked up. Maybe it was best to just keep quiet because you had no idea if you could hold back the waterworks. So, instead of answering him you simply walked away. Your momma always taught you it was best to not get into an argument when you were feeling emotional about the situation.
But that seemed to set him off further. You had been cold to him all week. Not greeting him like you normally did. Not leaving out his dinner like you so often would when he worked late. Yet you just couldn’t seem to care. If he didn’t care for you why should you return the favor?
He couldn’t take it anymore. So, he snapped at you. "Are you ever going to talk to me?" Aaron's voice breaks the suffocating silence in the home, the frustration evident in his tone. You were thankful Jack was sleeping over at a friend’s house now. You knew the inevitable fight was bound to happen.
You sat down on the couch, but you didn’t dare turn to face him. "What's there to talk about?" Your voice is icy, the bitterness seeping through each word.
Aaron took a step closer to you, the distance between you feeling like an icy rift he wasn’t quite used to with you. "You know exactly what we need to talk about," he retorts, his patience wearing thin. "You've been ignoring me ever since—"
"Since you forgot my birthday?" You cut him off sharply, your voice laced with resentment. "Yeah, I remember. You’re a profiler. Profile it Aaron." Venom was laced in your voice as you finally made eye contact.
His jaw clenches at the reminder, guilt gnawing at his insides. He messed up, and he knows it. And he knew he had been ignoring it. Ignoring the subtle signs, you left him. He knew how important these things were to you. And he took the cowards route of simply trying to ignore it. He knew better than to do that with you. He had been taking advantage of your kindness thinking you would simply ignore it. But you were reaching your breaking point. And he was exhausted from work. He simply knew this wasn’t about to be a good conversation.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He offered. But the effort felt hallow.
You shook your head blinking back the tears. “You’re just saying that because I’m angry! You had no intention of making it right Aaron!” You hardly ever raised your voice yet here you were, yelling at the man who looked overly tired. He rarely brought home his work with him, but it must’ve been something about his last case that had ravaged him.
He let out a rather obvious sigh of frustration, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You bit back the harsh words you wanted to use. “I wanted you to remember! To apologize for forgetting. I want you to pretend like you give a single shit about me! You couldn’t even remember my birthday?” That was a low blow, and you knew it yet somehow you couldn’t care.
Things were bound to spiral when you saw the anger in his gaze. “I apologized! If you didn’t make such a big deal about something so small this wouldn’t even be a problem. I’m starting to see why I forgot.”
It felt like the wind was knocked out of you right then and there. Each word feeling like another dagger to your already broken heart. Physically, you recoiled as if he had hit you, your eyes were wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.” You stood from the couch knowing you were going to run away from him. Your voice wavered just above a whisper as you spoke.
Regret washed over his face as he heard your floundering voice. He had taken it too far. Gone a step further than he needed. He crossed that invisible line that held the relationship together. “Baby… I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes were wide as he reached for you. But you wouldn’t let him touch you, no. Not after those comments. “I’m just tired and frustrated and I just wanted to hold you tonight. I hate that we are fighting over something so stupid. But baby, I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what I need to do.”
You shook your head rapidly frustrated beyond belief with him. “Something so stupid?” Your voice gave way to the weakness you felt in the moment, “My birthday is stupid now?”
Your words hung heavy in the air between the two of you. Aaron felt that lump form in his throat knowing he had used the wrong words yet again. It felt like he was being crushed over the weight of his mistakes now.
Before he can find the words to respond, you turn on your heel, your shoulders slumped with defeat. "I'm not so sure if there's anything left to fix," you say softly before walking away, leaving him standing alone in the wreckage of your shattered relationship in the living room of your home.
As he watches you disappear down the hallway, Aaron knows that he has lost more than just an argument. He has lost a piece of your heart, and he isn't sure if he will ever be able to win it back. But he is determined to try, no matter what it takes. Because you were worth fighting for, worth every moment of pain and heartache it would take to earn your forgiveness. And as he stood there alone in the empty room, Aaron vowed to do whatever it takes to make things right again. Even if it means confronting the darkest parts of himself and facing the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.
The silence in the house is deafening as Aaron stands outside the closed bedroom door, his heart heavy with regret. He can feel the weight of his mistakes coming own on him, each passing second only serving to deepen the ache in his chest. With a trembling hand, he reaches out and knocks softly on the door, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur. "Let me in."
There is no response from the other side, no indication that you have even heard him. But Aaron refuses to give up hope. He knows he has hurt you, but he can't bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. And you laid there in your bed, hurting beyond measure trying to ignore the man you loved more than life itself.
"Please, just talk to me," he pleads, his voice cracking with every emotion. "I know I screwed up, but I'm begging you, give me a chance to make it right. Please baby."
Still, there is nothing but silence from the other side of the door, and Aaron feels his heart sink even further. He presses his forehead against the cool wood, his chest constricted with the weight of his longing. You wanted to forgive him, to let him in. But you couldn’t, not yet. No matter how desperate he sounded.
"I can't do this without you," he pleads, his voice barely a whisper. "You mean everything to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. Just... please, let me in." He tries once more to get you to crack. And it worked. You’d never heard him so desperate. His voice so raw with emotion.
For what felt like an eternity, there was no response, and Aaron feared that he had lost you for good. But just as he is about to give up hope, he hears the faint sound of movement from within the room, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. As much as you wished you knew you couldn’t ice him out completely. You had both thrown unkind words at the other
His heart leaps with hope as the door cracks open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes red and puffy from crying. Aaron's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, his heart breaking at the pain he has caused. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me make it right."
You hesitate for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, with a resigned sigh, you step aside, silently inviting him into the room. Without a second thought, Aaron crosses the room, pulling you into his arms with a fierce, desperate longing. He holds you close, his heart overflowing with gratitude as he vows to never hurt you like he had just done.
As Aaron holds you tightly against him, he feels the weight of your sorrow pressing against his chest. He can sense the tremors wracking your body, the silent sobs that wring tears from your eyes, and it tears at his soul with a sharp, agonizing ache. "I'm not supposed to be the one who makes you cry," he whispers, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm the one who's supposed to dry your eyes, to chase away your tears, not cause them."
His words hang heavy in the air between you, a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made. He had never wanted to hurt you, never imagined that his actions could bring you to such sadness. And yet, here you are, crumbling in his arms, your heart laid bare for him to see. "I'm so sorry baby," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as you bury your face against his chest, your tears soaking through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, I promise."
But his assurances feel hollow, meaningless in the face of your pain. He knows that mere words are not enough to mend the wounds he has inflicted, that it will take more than empty promises to earn your forgiveness. For he had let you down so many times before. As Aaron holds you close, he knows that his actions will speak louder than any words he could offer. He will need to show you, day by day, that he is truly sorry, that he is committed to making amends and rebuilding the trust he has shattered.
He begins by being there for you in every way that he could possibly be, anticipating your needs before you even have to ask. He cooked your favorite meals, not because he wants to impress you, but because he wants to show you that he does in fact care about you. He knows you more than you knew yourself.  He listens to you, really listens, to every word you speak, hanging on to your every thought and feeling, eager to understand the depths of your sadness caused by him.
He showers you with small gestures of affection, leaving little notes around the house, reminding you of his love and devotion. He holds your hand when you walk as a reassurance that he will always be by your side, no matter what.
But most importantly, he gives you space when you need it, allowing you the time and freedom to heal at your own pace. He doesn't push you to forgive him, doesn't demand your trust before you are ready. Instead, he remains patient, steadfast in his determination to prove himself worthy of your love once more. And as the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, Aaron watches with bated breath as the walls you had erected around your heart begin to crumble. He sees the flicker of hope in your eyes, the tentative smile that graces your lips more and more often. He sees you returning to the light he had let burn out.
And when you finally reach out to him with a certain uncertainty, Aaron knows that he has been given a second chance. A chance to rebuild what they had lost, stronger and more resilient than ever before. And so he takes your hand in his vowing to never let you go, to cherish you, to protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being. As you walk hand in hand into the future, Aaron knows that you have weathered the storm together. The two of you emerged on the other side, whole once more.
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Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y
Request Taglist: @spookyparadisesheep @nelliebug18 @fictionallifestuff
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acewritesfics · 1 month
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A Wedding After All  | Tommy Shelby 
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Pregnant!Reader 
Request: No.  
Warnings: Alludes to cheating [I do not condone cheating]. Pregnancy. Past childhood sweethearts. Brief mention of war. One f*ck.
Word Count: 2,103
Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist
"Is Tommy in his office, Polly?" Y/N asks as she approaches the woman who has always treated her like a daughter. Her cheeks are flushed after walking as fast as she could to the Shelby Company's headquarters. She's come straight from the doctor's office. 
Polly cast a worried glance towards the younger woman. "You alright, Love?" 
"I need to talk to Tommy," she says, her gaze darting towards Tommy's office. "It's important that I speak with him." 
"He ought to return at any moment. I'm sure you can tell me whatever you need to tell him," Polly remarks as she sees Y/N beginning to pace back and forth in front of her. 
"Sorry, but I can't. I won't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." Y/N is unable to calm herself as nauseous feeling settles in her stomach. 
The Shelby family's Matriarch felt unsure how to handle the current situation she finds herself in. If something bothered her, Y/N would always tell her. She never went to Tommy first with anything since their relationship ended years ago.  
Polly knew the woman Y/N's father married a month after his wife died, and it came as no surprise how viciously she treated the teenage girl, from spreading rumours to physically beating her, while her good for nothing father did nothing to stop his new wife. 
Polly immediately scoured the entire town of Small Heath for Y/N and welcomed her into her home once she learned that she was kicked to the streets when she was fifteen. 
It wasn't long before Polly introduced her to her brother's family. When she met the Shelby siblings, they forged an immediate bond. Ada, the only girl, took to her the most, relieved to have another girl to talk to. The two women are still as thick as thieves to this day. They have a sisterly relationship that not even Tommy could disrupt. 
From the moment they met there was an obvious immediate attraction between Y/N and Tommy.  It didn't take long for their friendship to grow into a romantic love. Their romance was a whirlwind of passion, excitement and love. The two of them only had eyes for each other. Everyone knew she was Tommy's girl, and no one dared to touch her. Even though Tommy had little in common with his father, the Shelby name came with a not-so-great reputation.  
Tommy and Y/N weren't hesitant to call each other out on their foolishness, their confrontations occasionally attracting unwelcome attention. But they never went to bed angry with each other, which sometimes resulted in restless nights spent talking and making up. He had been her first love. 
However, their romance eventually ended when Y/N travelled to London shortly after turning 21 to pursue becoming a nurse. Tommy wanted to promise that he'd wait for her to return to Birmingham because he knew she was the one who he was supposed to marry and spend the rest of his life with. She urged him not to make any promises to her, fearing that their parting would only cause more heartbreak. But Tommy never gave up on her, writing almost every day to persuade her that everything would work out between them. They both held hope that it would until the letters eventually became less frequent as they both became busy with their lives.   
The war broke out two years into her training, and she and many other nurses were deployed to France to care for their countries' wounded. There, she was reunited with her former love. In the midst of tending to the soldier's wounds, their love for one another was rekindled. 
But as the days passed, Tommy's once beautiful vibrant blue eyes turned dull, emotionless, and void as they witnessed people die in the most horrific ways. When the war was over and they were sent home, they went their separate ways once more. 
It wasn't until six months ago that Y/N returned Birmingham. She'd been assigned to work in Small Heath's hospital. She preferred working at this hospital to the one she previously worked at in London. It moved at a slightly slower pace which she enjoyed.  
She reconnected with Polly and the brothers once she had settled back in and called Ada at least three times a week to keep her updated now that she was living in London with her son. Despite Ada's displeasure at Y/N wanting to return to Birmingham, the younger of the two women supported her decision knowing that their hometown was where Y/N belonged. 
Y/N had missed Polly and the brothers and was overjoyed to have them back in her life, as well as to be back in theirs. 
She enjoyed being back in Small Heath, even if her heart was crushed by her own past decisions. She assumed she was over Tommy, that all they'd ever be is friends, and that all her old sentiments for him had vanished. Tommy was her first and only love, so learning that he was now engaged saddened her. Polly attempted to convince her that Tommy never stopped loving her and that this marriage was a waste of time and money once he realises, he's making a mistake.  
But all Y/N saw was the way Tommy's soon-to-be bride looked at him, the way her eyes lit up when he walked into the room, the way he makes her smile. It was the same way she would look at him. The only difference was he never looked at her the same way he looked at Y/N. He never looked at anyone the way he was before the war. Y/N didn't know if Tommy loved his fiancée, but he was marrying her and that was enough for Y/N to know that her and Tommy will never be more than friends again.  
Y/N didn't want to get in the way of their relationship, so she kept her distance from Tommy. Which had been working until one night nine weeks ago. 
Polly pulls out a cigarette, places it between her lips, and lights it while she continues to watch Y/N pacing the room. She takes in the younger woman's form, seeing the small curvature of her belly as her hands rest over her stomach as if protecting it. 
Then it dawns on her.  
Leaving her cigarette in the ashtray, she moves towards Y/N and stops her from pacing a hole into the floor. Y/N seems surprised as Polly reaches out and gropes her breasts, feeling them for a few seconds before letting go. 
"You're with child," she exclaims, not bothering to hide the smile on her face. She is not a fool. This baby can only belong to one man, and it would be the push the former lovers need to come back together. Tommy, after all, would never abandon the woman who is carrying his child, especially when it's the woman he's been hopelessly in love with since he was sixteen 
"Fuck me," Y/N murmurs more to herself since she should have known Polly would notice. Nothing can ever get past the Romani woman. "Please don't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." 
"My lips are sealed," she assures as she places her hand to Y/N's belly.  "Is she Tommy's then?" 
"She?" Y/N raises an eyebrow in response. She wasn't going to bother responding to Polly question since she already knew the answer. 
"Did you forget who you are talking to?" Polly beams, eliciting a smile from Y/N, who appears to be more at ease. "She'll be beautiful, Y/N, and you'll love her more than you've ever loved anyone, even Thomas. There is no deeper love than that between a mother and her daughter." 
They both have a saddened expression on their faces as they recall who they've lost. Y/N lost her mother, and Polly lost her daughter, but they found what they were looking for in each other. Polly always believed that her daughter and Y/N's mother brought them together knowing that they needed one other. 
"You understand that she'll call you nan, right?"  Y/N says, making Polly smile this time. 
"Of course she is," Polly says, hugging her adopted daughter. She lets go of her, looking over her shoulder as someone walks into the office. 
Y/N becomes tense once more. She doesn't have to turn around to find out who it is since she can always feel Tommy's presence before she sees him. She turns around with a timid smile, the nauseous feeling in her stomach intensifying as she swallows the lump in her throat. 
"Y/N," he says a little taken aback to see her. 
"Good afternoon, Thomas," she says formally, trying not to seem too anxious. Since the night they spent together nine weeks ago, the two have barely spoken. Polly simply stands between them, smiling. "Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you." 
"I do," he replies and leads her into his office hearing the urgency in her voice. 
He glances worriedly at Y/N after closing the door. "Is everything okay?" 
"I saw the doctor this morning."  
As he gets closer to her, he grows increasingly worried. "Are you ill?" 
"What I have does cause sickness." She claims unable to look at him. The amount of thinking she did on her walk to the office did not help her at all. 
"What do you have?" He tilts her head so she can look at him. He notices tears welling up in her eyes. 
She takes a deep breath in and out, gathering all her courage to tell him as h er tears begin to fall. "I'm pregnant, Tommy." 
The Peaky Blinder remains calm as thoughts start running through his head. His eyes never leave hers. Y/N searches his eyes trying to find a hint of what he could be feeling or thinking. 
"You are the only one I've been with, Tommy. The baby is yours and I know you are to be married so if you want, I will leave. I'll go back to London and raise her by myself. I just thought since you're the father, you have the right to know and decide what you want to do," She rambles. Removing Tommy's hands off her face, she steps back from him, her arms going around her stomach, bracing herself for his rejection.  
"Or," Tommy finally speaks. "Or, you can stay here, I can marry you and we can finally be a family." 
"Tommy, you're engaged to someone else," She looks at him as though he's delusional, not believing what she's hearing. 
"Not a single day goes by where I don't think about you and what it would be like if we stayed together," he admits. "Because of that, I ended my engagement. I can't marry someone else when the only woman I'll ever love is standing right there in front of me." 
"Tommy, I-"  
"We are going to get married, we are going to have this baby and we are going to be a family," he steps towards her cupping her face again. This thumbs brush away her fallen tears. "I have never stopped loving you," he whispers before kissing her. 
"I love you too, Tommy," she replies when the kiss is broken and Tommy pulls away from her. She watches him go over to his desk, pull something out of the draw and walk back over to her. In his hand is a red velvet ring box. He opens it revealing the gold ring with three red ruby stones surrounded by diamonds. She gasps recognizing his mother's engagement ring. "Your mother's ring." 
"I've been saving it for you," he tells her. "You're the only one I want to wear it. Will you do me the honour in becoming my wife?" 
She nods her head, as the tears start to fall harder. Tommy smiles a rare smile, one that was only reserved for her, and slides the ring onto her finger before he kisses her deeply wrapping his arms around her waist as her arms go around his shoulders. 
"Well it's about bloody time," Arthur's gruff voice comes from the doorway causing the reunited couple to part. 
Y/N's cheeks flush red. Tommy can't contain the smile on his face. "Brother, there's going to be a wedding after all." 
"Who's getting married?" John asks missing what Arthur just walked in on. The younger of the three takes in the scene before him, seeing Y/N and Tommy wrapped up in each other. "You two are getting married?" he then asks, looking confused. 
"We're getting more than that," Tommy smiles lovingly at the woman who stole his heart when they were sixteen. 
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sixx-sixx-sixx · 6 days
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LADY BRIDGERTON - Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader (smut)
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Summary: Reader has been married to Anthony Bridgerton for too long, it feels, although it has only been a few years. In that short time, not only has he only touched her naked body once, but he comes home most nights smelling of sweat and another woman’s perfume. Lady Whistledown has caught wind of this, and the gossip sends Lady Bridgerton over the edge. Anthony takes the time to give his wife exactly what she’s asking for.
Warnings: smut; badly written smut lol; infidelity; arguments about infidelity; possibly out of character anthony; I’ve only watched season 1 of Bridgerton; breeding kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it but this is a married couple); female reader/use of she/her pronouns; as always, proofread to the best of my ability
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“Do you wish to make a fool of me?” Anthony leaned down to whisper in his young wife’s ear, a firm hand grabbing her elbow as he interrupted her conversation with a young man from Russia, or Hungary. He didn’t pay much mind to the boy so much as the woman who bore his last name, fully aware of the way she had been subtly flirting with many men that night. Taking count of the glasses of bubbles she had — she was nursing her fourth flute, Anthony had decided it was enough.
Don’t make a scene.
Lady Bridgerton felt an intense urge to strike her husband across his cheek, how dare he accuse her of making a fool out of him. All evening she had overheard whispers of Anthony’s name from nasty gossipers. The young Bridgertons had been the central characters in the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Rumor has it that Lord Bridgerton had continued an affair with a certain singer, without bothering to hide it from his young wife. Even worse? Lady Bridgerton knew, as they all knew, and never seemed to let the truth affect how she presented herself to those around her.
“Would you like me to answer that truthfully, my dear husband?” She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes alight with a burning fury towards the unfaithful man she had devoted her life to. She jerked her arm away from his grip and started to lift the glass to her painted lips. Anthony grabbed the dainty piece of glass and shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough. It’s time for you to go home.”
A bitter laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it, as a few heads turned to observe the titular couple. “If that is your wish, Mr. Bridgerton.” She turned on her heel and started to make her way out to the cold air, cursing herself for leaving her coat in the carriage. She didn’t even bother to wait for her husband to catch up as she informed the valet they would be leaving.
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The carriage ride to the estate wasn’t anything special. She would sit and seethe in silence during the ride, her eyes burning a hole through Anthony’s forehead as he sat across from her. The argument began once the couple was behind the safety of their bedroom door, standing in front of each other with defenses up. “We have been married for two years, Anthony! Two years and the only time you have touched me was on our wedding night. Yet every night you come home, to OUR bed, smelling like some whore’s perfume! I am left to listen to the ton gossip about MY empty bed!” She nearly hissed the words to punctuate her accusations. Anthony had never seen such an outburst from the young woman, she had never spoken to him like that before. She was standing before him, the drinks she had at the ball fueling her anger and simultaneously allowing the anger to sober her head.
“I know that I wasn’t who you wanted to marry, I understand that this was just a beneficial arrangement for you. But I expect that as the woman who now holds your family name, who will one day bear your children, that you could at the very least respect me!” She was angry that he had just stood there and watched her yell, but at the same time, she wouldn’t let him get a word in.
“You cannot expect me to be a dutiful wife and lady if you refuse to grant me at least the tiniest shred of dignity. You, sir, make a fool of yourself, I am merely seeking that same kind of attention you seek from Siena.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet venom as she spat the woman’s name.
Anthony allowed the woman to speak her mind on his infidelity, finally admitting to himself that he had been unfair to her. He frequently came into their room in the middle of the night when he expected the woman to be asleep. In the beginning of the marriage, he had at least tried to hide the evidence, changing his clothes before he climbed under the blankets next to her. Now, she was accustomed to him laying down beside her without even taking off the shirt that was stained with Siena’s stage makeup and that reeked of her pungent perfume.
“I do not understand, Anthony. I can come to terms with a loveless marriage, but I am so exhausted by knowing you’re giving her that kind of attention, and I have remained loyal to you despite the obvious signs of your affair-“ her rant was abruptly cut short when Anthony floated over to her, his hands gripping her cheeks with fervor as he crashed his lips to hers. Taking only a moment to stand in shock, she pressed her lips back against his, her hand reaching to grip onto the front of his overcoat. Desperately reaching for more, trying to edge him closer to their bed but ultimately allowing him full control over her mind, body and soul. She let out a disappointed whimper when his lips parted from hers, his face inches from her own.
“What is it that you want from me, woman? You wish for me to touch you the way I touch her? Or do you believe my hands to be too stained?” She hated how close his lips were, desperately trying to reach forward as he spoke his mind. She didn’t really care how improper the words sounded as they came from his mouth, because she DID want him to touch her- not just touch, she wanted him to fuck her the way he fucked his mistress.
She took a moment to find her words, not expecting her confrontation to lead to this moment. “Anthony, I am your wife. All I want is for you to- to fuck me the way a husband fucks his wife.”
Understanding that he had a year’s worth of missing passion to make up for, and seeing that deep down he had no other choice than to obey the woman before him, he easily obliged. In this moment, Siena didn’t exist to him. He was purely focused on making sure his duties as a husband were thoroughly taken care of. Tonight, he would go to sleep smelling of his wife’s soft scent, making sure to cover the woman in marks of his affection.
Little time was wasted in getting their clothes off. A mess of hands clashing together to try and undo buttons and layers and loops, the couple grasping at each other as though they were desperate for the other as a life source.
Anthony paused for a moment to admire his lady’s body in the soft candlelight, letting his hands first run over the delectable curve of her hips, trailing up her sides before settling on her supple breasts.
“I’m sorry that I have spent so long torturing you, making you only imagine my hands touching you like this. I promise, my lady, I will do a much better job at attending to whatever it is you wish from me.” Anthony promised as his eyes stayed locked with hers. Her pupils were blown wide, and he realized he didn’t even know what color her irises were meant to be. He told himself he’d be a better husband to her after this, wanting to ensure her place in society as his wife. He’d fuck her full of his seed tonight, and every night after that, to make sure that Lady Whistledown could never accuse him of neglecting his wife’s desires again.
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“Please, my lord, please--“ Lady Bridgerton sounded deliciously desperate, and it excited Anthony in a way that he had never experienced in his years-long affairs with Siena. It spurred him to plunge his cock deeper into his wife, his hand pushing her thigh down to her shoulder as he positioned her to angle himself deeper. She would probably think about the pressure against her cervix for the rest of her life, praying to God that she’d be able to experience this side of her husband for the rest of their lives together.
“What is it that you want, Lady Bridgerton? Tell me with words, my love, I want to hear you say it.” In this close position he could make sure she could look into his eyes to see he was genuine in this moment.
She was surprised at his stamina and determination tonight, focused more on her body than chasing his own release. A complete contrast to their wedding night, she felt like he treated the consummation as a chore. This was a much, much better experience. She had lost count of the times he had made her cum tonight, and the ways he had coaxed her orgasms from her.
“Anthony- Christ! Please don’t stop, want you to fuck me full til i’m round with your child-“ her voice was ragged and on the verge of giving out after not holding back a single sound. She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded begging for what seemed like the bare minimum from her husband.
Anthony leaned down to capture her lips in a messy kiss, reaching down to grab her hand that was tangled in the sheets beneath her. He caught any noises that escaped her, the sounds muffled against his own mouth, moving to hold her hand above her head. She clutched at his hand and whimpered his name as his hips stilled after a few sloppy thrusts, thick ropes coating her walls.
Anthony stayed put for a moment so as to not waste a drop, pulling his lips from hers before ghosting them over the hammering pulse in her neck. He gently maneuvered her pliable body into a resting position, slowly pulling himself from her and getting up from the bed.
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After he had gently cleaned up the mess he had made of the woman, Anthony peppered soft kisses over her stomach as he made his way up to lay down next to her. She instantly curled into his chest and closed her eyes, taking her time in coming down from the cloud she was on. She could feel his fingers gently combing through her mussed hair, the sensation slowly bringing her back to earth.
“Are you alright, Lady Bridgerton?” Anthony spoke softly to not spook her, his arms locked safely around her keeping her pressed to his body. Her lips quirked into a smile and he took notice of the way her cheek dimpled, his thumb moving to stroke over the small impression.
“I am absolutely content, Lord Bridgerton.” She opened her eyes to look up at her husband’s face. Anthony smiled as he kissed her again, a kiss so tender that nearly brought tears to her eyes.
“I may not be the perfect husband, but I vow to do better by you. I will end things with Siena and tend to the parts of you that I’ve been neglectful of.” Anthony made a promise to her after he had pulled away. His wife reached up to grab his hand in hers, moving it to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles before she spoke.
“You can use all of the sweet words that you want, you’ll still have to prove yourself with actions.” She squeezed his hand gently, “But I think this has been good start.”
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normansnt · 3 months
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Knight in shining armor
(Hazbin Adam x singer!male reader)
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(Not my art, idk whose sorry I got it from pinterest but credits to the artist cuz he would SO wear that I cant😭)
Warnings: fist fight
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"FUCK YEAAHHHHHH THATS MY BOYFRIEND MF" yelled Adam to a random person at your concert.
He always did that. Whenever he went to one of your concerts (always, I am not kidding the man has not missed a single one) he yelled to every one of your songs because he knew them inside out and after each song he yelled to someone that you're his boyfriend.
It was sweet in your eyes he was truly your number one fan. However on more than one occasion this has gotten out of hand. Like right now.
Sometimes people get annoyed at his yelling even though it is a rock concert he is still the loudest one. But this time it was different. This time something happened that actually bothered him.
He was yelling about how much he loves you and how you are his boyfriend again when he overheard something that he didn't like.
"For real? That gorgeous singer is dating that flop no fucking way."
"I know right? I gotta say I wouldn't mind hearing the singers voice moaning my-" Adam didn't wait longer to hear the end of the sentence he straight on punched that guy.
"I fucking DARE you to finish that sentence." Adam literally growled. Even though this was heaven, assholes were present here too.
The fight got so big that you had to stop your performance and stop it.
"Adam- Adam stop" you tried to get your boyfriend off of the two guys who he was now fighting.
"Let me go babe, I'm gonna fucking murder those two mother fuckers-"
"Adam, they already had enough you won." You tried arguing with him while you dragged him to your dressing room. The two guys laying on the floor beaten to pulp.
Once you closed the door, the ruckus outside got just a bit quieter and you could finally take a deep breath.
"What happened this time?" You asked your boyfriend while getting the first aid kit and patching him up. He was much better of than the other guys thats true. But he still had some scratches and a black eye.
Adam told you the whole story of what happened and you listened intently while gently putting some alcohol at a deep cut on his nose.
"And then I was like- aww fuck babe warn me next time" he started whining because of the alcohol.
You sighed.
"Listen Adam, I appreciate what you did, those pigs said some disgusting shit and you were a great knight in shining armor but I worked really hard to get this gig and you know that" you said trying to be as gentle as possible.
"Babe, your boyfriend is the fucking Adam, tell me where you want to preform and you'll get in within seconds I can take care of that."
"I know Adam but I really wanna accomplish some things on my own." You sighed again.
Adam knew he fucked up, he sees first hand how much work you put into your music. But he just couldn't help it this is the kind of thing that pisses him off to no end. His first two wives left him for someone else and even though he might act confident he was terrified that you would leave him, too. He didn't want to loose someone he loved so much.
You put your hand on his cheek and made him look at you.
"Hey, its ok I understand." Thats all you needed to say. You knew about Lilith and Eve leaving him. And you knew how insecure he actually felt. You have been dating for almost 6 years now you knew him way too well.
You kissed him to let him know that you weren't mad. He kissed back with enthusiasm, he loved kissing you. It might be true that he has kissed a lot of people before you came along but he always said that you were his favorite kisser of all time. He just loved the feeling of your lips against his.
"(Y/N)...I- listen I mean what I said really, wherever you wanna play I can hook you up."
You chuckled lightly. You knew this was the closest thing you are gonna get out of him as an apology, the man was not good at apologizing. But you already knew that, and loved him nonetheless.
"I know honey I know." You put your forehead on his.
The wholesome moment was interrupted when you both started hearing chanting from outside.
"Is that-?"
"THEY ARE CHANTING YOUR NAME BABY COME ON GET YOUR BRETTY ASS OUT THERE"
And there he was again, your stupid boyfriend.
You laughed an snatched up your guitar.
"All right baby you wanna watch from back stage?" You asked back as you held out your hand to him.
"FUCK YEAAHH"
And with that you two walked out of your dressing room laughing.
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HE IS JUST A STUPID LITTLE MEN HELP I LOVE HIM SM IDK WHY😭😭
Hope you guys enjoyed😘~
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kunigmis · 11 months
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pluck my cherry?
isagi yoichi x female!reader
synopsis: isagi yoichi asks his dear older stepsister a favor, which is to pluck my cherry? you’ve been a part of his life since he was 10, so you’re disgusted by the thoughts you’ve had of him. but, he’s just so sweet and innocent, you think maybe corrupting him wouldn’t be too bad…
content warnings: minors do not interact! all characters are 20+, age gap (7-years), stepcest, virginity loss (on isagi’s end), unprotected sex, oral (female!receiving), handjob, creampie, squirting, hinted breeding kink if you squint, kind of sister-con!isagi (he’s in love with you), heavy petting and groping, cum eating, pervert!isagi…
notes: i’d love to do virgin!isagi i’m sorry, but like that’s getting me all hot and bothered ૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶꒱ა virgin!isagi who’s a natural at sex!! love heart eyes… the two of you have grown up together and you’re adoration turned into lust… parents aren’t really mentioned but your mother fell for isagi’s father (just imagine his parents had split up). isagi has been in love with you since he was 10 btw. probably ooc… ૮ › ༝ ‹ ྀིა and!! this is for lovely @killsaki‘s family ties collab!! i loved being part of this, it was sm fun <33
WHEN ISAGI COMES TO you, all blushing and staring lovingly at you with his pretty and big blue eyes, asking you a favor you, dare say, wanted to say no to, you’re only allowed to hesitate for a moment before he’s hounding you for an answer. he’s bigger than when he was as a teenager, always having stood taller than you, so it’s easy for him to press you into a corner and keep you there for as long as he wanted.
you’re not sure whether or not he’s serious. he’s always been a bit of a jokester, he’d come in and play with you like a toy. despite being older than he, it was as if the “age barrier” played no part in your guys’ relationship. you wanted the respect you knew he could give, yet he couldn’t bring himself to show it. and, he didn’t really mind that you were older anyway.
but, you always found that to be endearing. you kind of liked to be treated like you were as young as he was, to not have your age be a factor in how he treated you. he was usually upfront about how he felt, never acting like he was forced to interact with you and like he actually wanted to be around you. it was sweet and had you feeling things you shouldn’t for the person he was to you. but, you’d push those thoughts aside when you’d shove your hand into your panties and treat yourself to a playful game called crushing on your little stepbrother. and, this was not a game a 30-year-old woman like you should be playing.
so, you shake your worries once more and ask him if he’s actually asking or just messing with your feelings. because you’re sure that, either way, you’d say yes despite your inner turmoil.
“why would i joke about this, big sis?” isagi knew your sick and gut-twisting feelings whenever he’d use that to address you. his eyes were sharp and perspective, so he would easily catch you pressing your thighs together and anxiously avoiding his gaze. you were so easy to read, and he’d hope just as easy to get into bed. “c’mon, please? f’me.”
god, he was doing to be the death of you. isagi had you tangoing with the devil with the wild thoughts he gave you. you’ve imagined it so many times, and you’re sure you’ll imagine it so many more, but now’s the time when your thoughts become reality. all those sick and twisted ideas of fucking your little stepbrother on every and any surface in your house that you could were about to become a little more than just scenarios in your pretty little head.
isagi doesn’t even question your silence, he knows you’re thinking about it—and he knows you’re going to give in. fuck, he licks the back of his teeth in anticipation, trying to quench the urge to just pounce on you now. he’s wanted this for so long, remembering how his eyes would always get so big and starry when he’d look up at you as your family had dinner. you treated him so kindly, so sweetly, like he wasn’t some random 7-year younger child your mother brought in with an extra bonus of a father figure. you accepted their presence quickly and doted on isagi with innocent adoration. that is, until you both knew it turned into something a little south of innocent and a little dirtier than adoration.
and, so, you’re left to swallow down any refusals and instead nod meekly, so easy to give in and you’re sure isagi would be using such a thing to his advantage later on.
finally, you were within his grasp and he wasn’t planning on letting go.
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“fuck—! ‘ichi, please!”
an hour had passed since isagi and you got to it. you’re a creamy and hot mess now, hair tousled and stuck to your sweaty forehead. your lips are red from continuous biting, by both you and isagi, and are begging to be plucked like the pretty cherries they were, “s-stop teasing already…”
you watch as your little stepbrother tongues his way into your pussy, all hot and squirming with the walls of your insides. he’s moaning against you, sloppily eating you out and taking every moment, every second he can to engrave the taste and smell and feel of you into his mind. he’s coming off too needy for his own liking, but how could he not be when you’re just so ripe for the picking?
isagi only relents for a second to give you a laugh, kissing your swollen clit before he’s puckering his lips and sucking with fervor. you throw your head back into your pillow, tongue heavy in your mouth that all you can do is cry and palm at isagi’s skewed hair. you got it so messy, fingers tangling within each strand, that you’re not sure who looks worse.
“s’good, ‘ichi, fuck,” you’re twitching from overstimulation, being denied orgasm after orgasm as isagi would makeout with your cunt just before pulling away when you were on the brink of release. for being a so-called virgin, he was great at giving head. “w-wan’ cum for you… need it!”
you’re begging and squirming beneath him and his hot mouth. his arms circle your thighs and hold you down, thick fingers have their nails pressed into your skin that they create small crescents in their wake. he’s nosing at your clit now, mouth back at your entrance so he can dig his tongue into your messy cunt. he curls it just right, wiggles it enough to reach further than before, and you’re seeing white by the time you can moan out a warning.
“fuck! fuck!” you’re arching off the bed and thrashing, so overstimulated that you’re no longer in control of how your body moves. meanwhile, isagi keeps going, drinking in all of you to not waste a savory drop. his eyes are so droopy, practically swirling in a pool of blue and rich lust that you’re sure you’d drown if you got too lost in them. and, it was just now that you’d noticed the soft humping of the bed isagi was doing.
you pant a laugh, move a hand to brush the hair from his face and give him a small tug, “‘ichi, so cute… humping t-the bed,” you’re in no state to be teasing, but the blush on isagi’s face and the way he hungrily comes up to hump your wet pussy, you’re just babbling whatever comes to mind now. “why not put those hips to use and fuck me already?”
isagi’s eyes go wide, letting out a moan when your hand comes to toy with his dick through his boxers. he’s so thick, you can feel the heat and weight within the palm of your hand. you’re sure you’re drooling right now, but you can’t help the way your hand eagerly dips within his boxers to start jerking him off.
you start slow, only circling the tip before you fist his cock from base to tip. isagi shutters when you do, muscles flexing as he holds himself above you. you watch in awe, eyes honed in on the facial expressions isagi makes as you play with him. his brows pinch upwards, eyes screwed shut as his mouth falls open in an oh. he’s so vocal, nothing like past encounters you’ve had, and you’re embarrassed to say the noises he makes may just make you cum untouched.
“f-fuck, big sis, j-just like that,” isagi begins to thrust into your hand and tries to match your pace, but your hand is moving too fast and he’s just feeling too good, that his hips stutter and he’s quick to try and pry your hand away, “wait! ‘m-m cumming—!”
you don’t stop your ministrations, continuing to ride out his orgasm as white peaks from above his boxers and begins to seep through their material. isagi’s head hangs on to your chest, a long and low groan having left his lips at his release. god, he’s so hot, and the way he keeps moving his hips is so cute.
isagi pants hotly against your skin, slowly coming to a stop as you remove your hand and press them to his lips. “open up,” he eagerly does as told, tongue swiveling out to wrap around your fingers and lick his own cum from them. he’s staring at you while doing so, fair face flushed red down to his chest as he moans around your fingers. “what a good boy, ‘ichi.”
if he had one, isagi’s tail would be wagging with the praise. he’s practically a dog in heat, tongue lapping any body part of you as he humped the air. it’s like he’s imagining the feel of your pussy around his dick without having even put it in.
by the time isagi’s done with your fingers, you had already used your other hand to reach down and tug his boxers off. he obediently shimmied out of them, his dick big and thick as it rubbed between the folds of your cunt. “c-condom—“
isagi had the mind to reach for his pants, but your hand snagged his between grimy fingers and pulled him back, making him gasp when your other had begun to line him up with your entrance and ease him in. “fuck—wait—big sis!”
you shiver when he’s fully within you, the stretch new and giving a whole other meaning to sex for you. you wouldn’t be able to go back to anyone else’s dick after having isagi’s. it was molding your walls to fit only him, making sure that your pussy knew the shape and every little detail to it that there was. you’re sure that it was made just for you—that isagi was made just for you.
“f-fuck, big sis—s’hot, s’good. i want t’ cum already—“ isagi didn’t even give you time to breathe with how quickly he began thrusting. the second you slid him in, raw and all, he was seeing stars and thrusting away. his hips were glued to the globes on your ass, hands pressing to the underside of your knees to have you bending in a way that he saw himself going in and out within just a few inches away. he was so enamored by the sight, by your pussy, that he began to feel dizzy. “you f-fuck me so good.”
you’ve never felt so good before. isagi was bringing you to levels you’d never reached, and you were almost positive he wasn’t a virgin; but, with how sloppy he was in his movements, be it giving head or fucking your cunt, you were led to believe otherwise.
“yes—‘ichi r-right there!” your eyes cross when his tip hits that spot inside you, kisses it repeatedly, and abuses it with a mission. he’s so sloppy and yet that just makes it so much better, having isagi pounding into you without a thought within his pretty little head, just so focused on how you feel and getting you two to release, has you forgetting all about where your relationship now stands. “so hot, ‘ichi!”
isagi is nodding with your words, hips never stuttering despite how he loses his rhythm every other thrust. who knew pussy would feel so good. he’s practically head above the clouds right now, your walls are just so gummy and wet that he’s slipping out and back in so easily. he’s still got the taste of you on his tongue, letting it hang out to drop a glob of spit where the two of you meet. he’s never going to get enough of this; he’ll fuck you every day, anywhere and everywhere he could think of; he’s never going to let you go.
when you clench around him, he jolts forward, sending you into a further bend than before. you’re screaming, his name a mantra you can’t help sing. ‘ichi, ‘ichi, ‘ichi, he swore he’s never heard anything more angelic than that before. with your lips all red and looking so good, isagi forces himself to remove his hands from your knees and press his shoulders into them, having his hands linking with yours as he messily kisses you.
it’s all tongue and teeth and spit, just so messy that you have it dripping down your chin. you moan into his mouth, swallow the noises he returns, and suck his tongue like some candy. isagi watches in a daze, eyes lidded and glued to the way you suck his face. you’re liking this more than he originally thought, but he’s not one to complain when your nails dig into his hands and plead for more.
“s’good, s’good! gon’ cum! i-inside? please?” isagi gasps into your mouth, letting your tongues press and slide together as his hips stutter all over the place. your pussy spasms and sucks him right back in, like it has a voice of its own and it’s begging to be bred. isagi whines at the feeling and only pleads more.
you’re not all there right now, brain all mushy and gooey, so you just nod and babble incoherently. isagi isn’t even listening, only focused on the release coming quicker and quicker. it builds, the metaphorical dam blocking it breaks and he’s panting and gasping into your mouth as his cum is fucked into your cunt.
“w-wait—‘ichi, i-i feel like i’m going to pee—!” you’re crying, having been fucked into a bawling mess as your lower stomach burns and tingles like before you use the restroom. you’re hiccuping with every thrust isagi gives, legs shaking over his shoulders and you’re going cross-eyed when you feel yourself lose it all.
isagi is so lost in getting milked dry by your pussy, and it’s only worsened when you cling to him and cum around his dick and along his abdomen in spurts. you squirted. “oh, f-fuck that was fucking hot,” the black of isagi’s hair sticks to your sweaty chest, his tongue licking along your chest and kissing marks into your skin. he’s trying to calm down, but your juices just keep flowing and making a mess that he can’t go soft. “b-big sis, fuck, stop please… my dick’s going to fall off…”
you’re trying to stop spasming, trying to let yourself down, but you just can’t. it wasn’t enough, you’re so hungry for isagi’s dick that your pussy doesn’t want to let him go. you’re tightening around him, practically stuck together by your release that you’d probably tear if pulled apart.
“o-one more time…”
there’s no going back to how things once were now.
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miguel-ohara-lover · 28 days
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Stress
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CW: Smut, little dialogue, gn!reader, no reader description so it should hopefully work for everyone(I hope)
A/N: I’m a bit rusty idk how good this’ll be-
As Miguel worked tirelessly on monitoring and protecting the multiverse, you couldn’t help but notice just how tense and stressed he constantly seemed. You felt the need to aid him, but any attempt to interrupt his work usually lead to a groan and some excuse for you to leave. Well, more like an order to leave disguised.
Your eyes drifted over his body, his tensed shoulders and back down to his legs where his large hand resting, fingers drumming against his thigh as he watched the screens. He didn’t notice your presence at the moment, he got used to tuning out anyone who would dare walk through, it was a waste of time acknowledging them from his platform. It wasn’t much of a surprise when he failed to realize you getting closer.
Currently his platform was only a foot off the floor, it was lunch time so it’s likely he had the fleeting thought to leave his office, long enough to lower the platform, before quickly deciding it wasn’t worth his time. He only noticed you once you stepped onto the platform, but he didn’t turn around to greet you just yet. Only when your hands landed on his shoulders did he bother to pay attention to a presence in the room.
You felt his muscles tense more at the touch, as if without words he was asking what you were doing. You answered despite not hearing a question.
“You’re very tense, Miguel. Taking a break would be very good for you.” You lean down, speaking softly into his ear. As he listened to your voice his shoulders relaxed slightly. He remained silent but allowed you to massage the stress away. Even if it was just for this moment, he’ll allow himself to relax.
The tension left his muscles, and soon filled the air. You two were no strangers, but it was more of a one night stand, years ago, but you always longed for that again. Your hands drifted down his back, then back up and over his shoulders.
Miguel leaned his head back, his red eyes meeting yours. Your hands stopped a moment and he made a ‘come here’ gesture with his finger. You could only guess what he meant, and after a moment of thinking whether sleeping with your boss was a good idea, you decided you don’t care. Slowly you walk around until you are in front of him.
His hands reach up to your hips, and before you could consider what he may do next, you’re swiftly pulling into his lap. The look on your face must have been one of surprise, his next move being some half-ass way of saying you started this. He didn’t seem angry, which is a surprise, but one you were grateful for.
The holographic suit dissolved bellow you, and you could suddenly feel what he had kept hidden underneath. The blush on your cheeks grew as you realized how impatient he seemed. His hands were fast to remove your clothes, just enough for your activities to come. He wanted to make this quick, his mind still busy with his work.
Your hands settled on his shoulders, fingers digging into his rough skin as he guided you onto his shaft. As hard as you try, you can’t keep the noises from escaping you. He, on the other hand, loved those noises. It was music to his ears, and such a shame he couldn’t hear it more often.
His hands gripped her waist as he moved you up and down, his strength not allowing you to move freely, ain’t was he used your hole like his own personal toy. His grip was strong and demanding, and it turned you on oh so much. Your fingers moved up and tangled in his hair as you leaned in for a sloppy kiss.
The pace quickened as the activity turned from transactional to more intimate. Perhaps he can let himself go for a bit, get lost in the warmth of your presence, the feeling of your lips on his, your tightness around his length. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.
As you bounced on his lap, the only sounds filling the air being your moans and skip hitting skin, you felt your release build up. You knew it would be soon, his size and speed ensured that. He had to be close too, his pace becoming for irregular, his breathing deeper, and perhaps a few noises left him as well.
You rocked your hips slightly and felt him buck under you as he spilled inside you, filling you up like he did all those years ago. It was still as amazing as it was then, and it was the final straw, the last push you needed to join him in sweet ecstasy. Your lips clashed in one final passionate kiss, both of you panting as you pulled away.
He let you sit in his lap as the two of you came down from your high, maybe even longer. Miguel seemed to grow fond of your presence, not making you leave as soon as he was done with you. His hand moved gently up and down your back as you rested your head on his shoulder. Yes, he could definitely get used to this…
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marypaol · 3 months
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Tension in Potion-Making
Draco x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Insecurity, jealously, possessive personality, that’s all :)
Summary: Reader and Draco have been friends since early childhood, and something stirs between them when asked to make Amortentia.
Note: For the wonderful
@just-another-reader1098
I don’t know why I struggled writing this, I deleted so much with the ending and re-wrote a bunch of options. I didn’t know how you wanted angst involved and I’m sorry I didn’t put as much as probably desired. I hope you enjoy it anyways and thank you so much for requesting!
Masterlist
___
The girl couldn’t remember her life before Draco, like he was a person that was meant to enter her life and guide her towards the right direction. Or he just happened to join her life story and happened to impact it so much.
Whatever the reason may be he was always there, either lingering in the back of her mind or by her side to make snarky remarks or complaints. She was used to it by now, however, having dealt with his attitude for years on end that nothing was new to her. If only she could replay their life together like a movie film she would then take the time to recognize what she truly had. She was beyond grateful for the boy, he kept her sane and whenever someone dared to bother her they would quickly realize who they were messing with.
Their friendship was a linger in memory ever since then but it didn’t ever die, nor did it go back to the way it was. They were kids, little mindless kids that didn’t know that being friends who goofed around and shoved chocolate frogs in their mouths would have such an impact on their lives.
She wouldn’t change one thing about it though, oh Merlin no, because it wouldn’t prove the development they’ve had over the years. Development meaning lingering touches and long glances but nothing strong enough to confront each other about.
That was the way she felt until one day in which she thought would be normal. She didn’t expect not only to be sharing Potions with the Gryffindors, but to be making the most powerful love Potion in existence.
“This is ridiculous.” Draco muttered when Snape informed them.
“I don’t see the purpose of this stupid Potion anyway; it’s not like I’m going to smell anything.” He snarled. “Like how does the House Cup have a scent?”
She kept in her laugh, shaking her head. “No, Draco. It’s about love and your deepest attraction… showing your deepest desire for an unknown person…I wonder who I’m going to smell.” She said, not being able to help but think of the possibilities.
Draco scoffed at the dream-like tone she was using, looking over at her from his cutting board.
“You? Smelling anyone? Oh please, I doubt someone would even smell you.”
A normal person talking to Draco would be hurt, but she was used to the teasing and banter that practically flooded from his mouth like water so instead she slapped him on the arm and watched in satisfaction when he rubbed the spot.
“I’m serious; I bet you’re curious about who you’ll smell.” She said back.
Malfoy scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard, but what she didn’t know was that he was more curious than ever. Did all his wants, besides wanting to prove to his father that he’s worthy, come to the idea of someone understanding and loving him? Was there someone already out there and he was about to find out who? Just by leaning in and taking a soft sniff of this bubbling liquid that the cauldron beheld? Yet the smallest sniff would give the strongest scent, revealing who he desired most.
Draco scoffed again to get rid of the thoughts and to prove his point further on how silly it was.
“Me, a Malfoy, wondering who I smell. Stupid and absurd, really, I tell you.” He mumbled under his breath. “I’ll stick my nose in there and smell the copper of the House Cup, that’s for sure.”
He watched as she nudged some ingredients towards him so he could cut them, rolling her eyes at his behavior.
“Really? Your deepest attraction is a cup made of copper?” She tested, scooping something into the Potion, watching as it bubbled and smoked from the addition to the mix.
Draco seemed to be scoffing a lot that day, because that’s what he did just then.
“No, take a joke. Obviously I’ll be smelling my own scent because everyone’s desire for me will be so strong this whole room will be able to smell it.”
She couldn’t help but laugh a little. Draco scowled.
“You think it’s funny do you? The facts are funny now; every girl is drooling over me and it’s absolutely hilarious to think about.”
She shook off the laugh coming up her throat, composing herself.
“What if I don’t smell you?” She tested, watching for his reaction.
His eyes stopped on hers, looking at her face with such intensity that it made her sink into her feet a little. He eyed her up and down, silver orbs seeming to absorb her appearance.
“You better.” He said simply, but it sounded like a threat, vanishing the playful banter in the air that was previously present, replacing it with think fog and tension that surrounded itself between them.
“And why should I smell you?” She bravely asked, staring right back into his eyes. He made a chop with his knife that was harder compared to the others, staring at her harder than before.
“You’re mine, that’s why.”
Hope you liked it! 🫶🏻
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Catwoman's new sidekick (dc x dp)
This is very loosely inspired by this prompt. Enjoy the blurb:)
Danny didn’t really like guns. Not the ecto-weapons his parents made, but the actual bullet-filled guns. He knew how to use them, as that was what his parents had based themselves off of to create their own ectoplasm-powered version of it, but he didn’t like them. So when he’d found one not only loaded, but with the safety off in his apartment’s garbage bin, he’d plan to take it and go throw it in the river to make sure nobody would get to use it. Danny wasn’t exactly shocked to see it, this was Gotham after all, but it was a bit of a nasty surprise to say the least. It wasn’t like it could really hurt him anymore, it seemed halfas had a sort of built-in instinct for going intangible (which had explained why the Nasty-Burger-explosion-that-never-happened hadn’t affected him despite being taken completely by surprise).
Not to mention he was already in a bad mood at the news that Vlad was in the city right now for some rich guy nonsense, which Danny was 100% sure meant the fruitloop was going to come by to bother him at some point in the next few days.
“Hello, Daniel,” came Vlad’s voice from behind him as if summoned.
“Get away from me, you creep,” Danny answered, not turning around. Instead, he started walking in the opposite direction.
“Is that anyway to talk to your unckie Vlad?” The man said with his smarmy tone. “And I came by such a long way to come see you.”
“You saw me, now you can leave.” Danny didn’t bother turning his head as Vlad caught up so they were walking side by side.
The billionaire tsked as he looked around. “It’s such a shame you live in such a poor neighbourhood. You know the offer to pay for your tuition is still open.”
“Not in a million years,” Danny answered dryly.
“You’re just as stubborn as my dear Madeleine used to be,” Vlad sighed and Danny felt the disgust twist his features into a grimace.
“Still being a creepy disgusting old loner, Vlad?” Danny snarked. “How many cats are you on, number 5?”
There was flash of anger in the older man’s eye before he smirked. “And how is dear Danielle these days, it’s been so long since she came by. I think she’ll be due for another meltdown soon.”
On impulse, Danny raised the gun, knowing full well the man would go intangible faster than any bullet and pointed it at Vlad. “Don’t you dare touch her.”
“Oh please, Daniel,” Vlad scoffed. “What are you going to do, shoot me?”
“Maybe,” Danny retorted.
“It wouldn’t change anything,” Vlad dismissed.
“Might make me feel better,” Danny said even as he lowered the gun a bit, knowing it wouldn’t do anything.
Vlad knew this just as well, and he sneered before turning his back to Danny and walking away with a parting shot. “I always get what I want, Daniel. Whether it’s through you or her.”
The gun that Danny had lowered slightly now came back up. He was so tempted to empty the stupid thing at Vlad, no matter if it would all pass through him. Before he could do anything though, a voice from above sounded.
“He’s not worth it, kid.”
Danny looked up to find the masked face of Catwoman peering down on him.
“He deserves worse than this,” Danny said, mind still on the temptation of shooting at Vlad’s intangible back. This was a deserted part of the city, it wasn’t like it would hurt anyone else.
“I promise there are better ways to make him pay,” Catwoman answered.
Danny scoffed bitterly. “Vlad’s so rich, he can pay off anyone and cover up any scandal I could think of.” And if money didn’t work, there was always straight-up overshadowing innocent bystanders.
The masked woman hesitated for a while before she called down determinately. “Look, get rid of the gun, and I promise I’ll help you make him pay.”
“Really?” Danny wasn’t too sure what that entailed but anything that would hinder Vlad was a go for him. “You promise?”
“I do,” she stated with conviction. “But you have to lose the gun.”
“Yeah, ok,” Danny said. He was going to do it anyways, but if she wanted it gone even faster, Danny wasn’t going to argue.
Selina watched as her new sidekick dropped off the gun into the river. It fell in with a splash that had something in her curling comfortably. Maybe Bruce was really rubbing off on her if she was picking up strays
But, Selina had a good feeling about this. Talking a kid out of murder had been how Batman had gotten his first Robin, after all.
Part 2
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amoremainslayer · 20 days
Note
Gunwook Smut recommendations!
How about writing something about jealous Gunwook seeing a senior / someone older liking y/n!! Gunwook being a bit upset about it and reader make it up to him by showing him just how much the reader loves him?🧐
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JEALOUSY - P.GW
Pairings : gunwook x reader
Genre : fluff, smut
Warnings: nsfw under the cut, blow job
A/n : Haii, sorry this comes out so late i somehow always forgot about this ask. Hope this is enough for you!!
To the ppl who hated on me, go cry about it💋
Not proofread!!
A deep frown placed itself on Gunwooks face, creating a small crease between his eyebrows. The two of you have been practicing for your debate contest for a few hours now, sitting on your usual place in the library.
Everything was peaceful to Gunwook, you were happily drinking the drink he bought you, the arguemtns your were gathering were more than just strong, and in general He could spend time with his crush.
Not until Eunseok, a senior you've known for about 2 years now approached you and suggested he'd help you "I used to debate aswell, you know" Eunseok mentioned nonchalantly.
Gunwook hated the way your eyes widened in surprise, a big smile on your lips as you asked Eunseok about his past debates. He didn't like the way Eunseok looked at you, he liked the way you reacted to greatly to everything Eunseok said even less.
"I didnt know you were into debates! Thank you for suggesting your help, but I think gunwook and I need to concentrate now" You spoke politely and gunwook smirked slightly. Now it was Eunseok who frowned slightly, but nevertheless left the two of you alone.
It was a wonder Eunseok had even found the two of you, you were sitting in a hidden corner in the library, a place you had only found after going through old and dark alleys no one even dared to look at.
You sighed, turning back to Gunwook to continue your preparations but the bothered expression on his face left you hesitating "Whats wrong wook?" You asked, trying to put your finger on what left him looking like this.
He gulped suddenly getting flustered at the fact you had noticed him being jealous "Its nothing, lets continue" he murmured, hiding his red cheeks while looking down onto his notes.
You could read him like an open book, it somehow felt as clear as water that he was jealous. You put your hand on his "Eunseok is just a friend to me" you reassured. Gunwook looked up, blinking a few times "Why are you saying this to me, its not like i'm jealous or something" He denied, glancing to his right before looking back at you.
You raised an eyebrow, standing up from your seat and walking up to him. You chuckled softly, your index finger wandering beneath his chin to make him look up to you "Are you sure? The frown on your face says otherwise" You spoke and his frown instantly disappeared.
He closed his eyes, internally closing at himself before looking back up at you "I didn't mean t-" he began but was interuppted by you shaking your head "I dont like Eunseok" You spoke.
He seemed confused "What?" he asked "Nearly everyone knows he likes you, so why wouldnt you like him back?" Gunwook felt confused, why would you lie about this.
You scoffed "Do i really have to proove it to you?" You spoke while raising a single eyebrow. Gunwook remained silent, but by the glow in his eyes you knew you had to.
You let out a breath, slowly kneeling down so you were the one looking up to gunwook now. He automatically opened his legs, eyes staring down at you while watching every move you did. Just the bare sight of you kneeling infront of him let all the blood rush into his erection
"I would never like someone like Eunseok" You whispered, cupping his buldge gently. After a few seconds you began undoing his pants, pulling out his length teasingly slow.
As the air hit his skin, a small groan escaped his lips. Precum was leaking out of his tip while his hand wandered to your shoulder. You gave him one last gaze before you leaned down, pressing small kisses all over his tip.
A soft moan left his lips while he watched you kiss him "Fuck" he groaned, adjusting his hips to give you more access. Soon you took him into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length while locking eyes with him.
He let his head fall back with a groan, his hand entangling into your hair while guiding you to bob your head up and down his cock "Baby you're doing so good" he murmured, the tip of his cock hitting your throat with each thrust.
Your hands were massaging his balls while gunwook closed his eyes. You felt yourself slightly chocking on his cock, slowly getting lost of oxygen "I'm so close baby" he groaned, hips bucking into your mouth.
You began sucking on his cock, further pleasuring him until he finally came with one last moan. He spilled his seat right into your mouth, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the sensation of your mouth on his erection.
You let go of his cock, gulping down his seeds before standing back up to face him "Proof enough?" you asked with a small grin, lips slightly swollen after the head you gave him. He chuckled softly "You're actually crazy, you know that baby?"
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 9 months
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Would That I
Pairing: Otto Hightower x f!reader Warnings: Smut, age gap, keeping it in the family. Word count: ~1.1k Summary: Otto makes sure his pretty, young wife has absolutely everything she desires. Based on this request.
She is smitten with Otto the moment she lays eyes on him. Arriving in King’s Landing she anticipates a week of uninteresting jousts and tedious formalities, but as she sits in the stands, thoroughly uninterested by the spectacle of the two knights charging towards each other on horseback, her eye is drawn to the Hand of the King. He is older than her by at least three decades, but he is refined, tall and ruggedly handsome. While the potential suitors within the capital are seemingly endless, none of them compare to Otto Hightower
Using every excuse within her arsenal over the coming days, she seizes all opportunities to see and speak to him, and is delighted to find he is every bit as charming as he is handsome. He titters at her jokes and she is enamoured by the way his eyes crinkle as he smiles, the green of his iris appearing to sparkle as he does so. His voice is deep, yet velvety smooth and she hangs on his every word. He is intelligent, diplomatic and sharp as Valyrian steel.
Her desire for him intensifies as the days press on, and emboldened by one too many cups of Dornish red following a feast one evening, she leans forward and presses her lips to his, her heart fluttering as she feels the warmth of his large palm cup her cheek as he returns the gesture.
“I have not felt like this about a woman in years,” He tells her.
She smiles at his words. She has not felt like this about a man ever.
There is no need for her to leave come the end of the week, King’s Landing is now her home, and after a hastily put together ceremony in the Sept, Otto Hightower is her husband.
He surprises her with his virility on their wedding night, wringing peak after peak from her pliant body, leaving her exhausted but with a satisfying ache between her thighs the following morning. Otto spoils her beyond comprehension, she wants for nothing and has the finest of everything; jewels from Lys, gowns of Myrish silk and lace, wines from the Arbor. He is diligent in keeping her sated in every aspect of their marriage.
It is obvious his daughter, Alicent, does not approve, though she does not say it, and who can blame her? She has to admit that she’d be annoyed too if her father chose to marry someone younger than his own daughter.
It is not Alicent’s silent disapproval that bothers her, however, it is how the ladies of the court love to gossip. It is not unusual in Westeros for men to wed women much younger than themselves, yet she finds herself at the center of all manner of prying questions regarding the nature of her marriage to Otto. She supposes it is because of the responsibility he holds as the King’s Hand.
“What is it you see in him?” One bold lady dares to ask.
She bites her lip, considering her answer. She longs to say that it sends a thrill through her body to wait upon her knees for him, gazing up at him as he presses the head of himself past her lips. Such talk would cause a scandal, however, so she gives a tight smile and says that he is tall.
“Surely that can’t be all?”
“No, he is handsome too,” She says wistfully, thinking about how he gazes up at her from between her thighs, the softness of his beard tickling her soft flesh, the sensation causing her to clench around nothing.
“Is he kind to you?”
“Oh, yes, Otto is extraordinarily generous!” There is a particular necklace that Otto insists she wears, with nothing else to accompany it, whenever they are alone in their marital chambers. It sits tight against her throat, adorned with emeralds that gleam in the same shade of green as the Hightower house colours. It likely cost a small fortune, but in his eyes nothing is too good for her, not when he is buried to the hilt inside of her.
“Is that your favourite quality of his?”
“No,” She muses. “I adore his dedication to his family.”
The combined heat from the fireplace and lit candles that sit upon every surface of the bedchamber make the room stiflingly hot. She feels sweat trickle down her neck, disappearing beneath the emerald choker that sits snugly around her neck, every green gemstone glittering in the dim light as she rolls her hips against Otto’s.
His grip on her waist is vice-like, every sensation heightened by warmth, as the length of him nudges against a spot inside of her that makes her tense with every undulation of her body. She feels taut, pulled tighter than a bow string until it eventually snaps, sending her headlong into oblivion, waves of ecstasy rolling through her as she collapses against her husband’s chest, triggering his own release.
His fingers stroke gently over her dampened skin as he holds her close. Already, renewed desire throbs between her legs.
“Are you satisfied, my dear?” Otto asks softly.
“I will never have enough of you, my love,” Comes her playful response.
“That is not quite what I had in mind.”
“Oh?” She lifts her head, eyeing him curiously.
“I have seen the way that you and Aemond look at each other, I am no fool.”
She laughs softly, shaking her head. “It is nothing, I can assure you.”
“I do not mind,” He rises from the bed, pulling on a robe. “I wish for my darling wife to be satisfied, to have everything she desires, so I shall make it so.”
He opens the chamber door, uttering “you can come in now” and her eyes widen in disbelief when she sees Otto’s second oldest grandson hovering in the doorway. It seems outrageous to her that he would suggest such a thing, yet she cannot deny the way it makes her pulse race.
“I shall be back in an hour.” Otto informs them both, before leaving.
She is too stunned to speak at first as she takes in the sight of Aemond. He seems stoic and unaffected in his demeanour, until she studies him more carefully. She takes in how his pupil is dilated with lust, the prominent bulge that presses against the lacings of his trousers, and the slight parting of his lips as he struggles to control his excited breaths.
Arranging herself atop the bedspread, she relaxes knowing that he desires her just as much as she desires him. She beckons him to her with a crook of her finger. “Come now, don’t be shy.” He goes to her eagerly.
It is just one of the many perks of being Otto Hightower’s wife. He is nothing if not generous in every aspect of their marriage, and so dedicated to his family.
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spidybaby · 8 months
Note
One where you're Gavi's older sister and you have a bad relationship. You and Pedri have a secret relationship and at a party Gavi find out about the relationship and is mad at you not at pedri because he doesn't wants to loose him as a friend
Golden Child | part 1
Summary: You're Pablo's older sister, even tho you don't have a good relationship you help him during his injury and find yourself getting involved with Pedri.
Warnings: cursing.
A/N: So I write Gavi as a toxic brother, but I don't think he's like that at all. Also, Aurora is going to be older. Please keep in mind that this is fictional, not based on reality. Love you 💛
Part two | Part Three
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Growing up with a brother like Pablo was not easy. He used to be everybody's favorite. He was the star of the family. He was he.
Something that he couldn't be was his parents number one child. Something he hated. Specifically, he couldn't beat the way his parents loved his older sister.
He grew up with two sisters. Aurora, who's twenty-four, and Y/n, who's twenty one.
Aurora and him were very close. They enjoyed doing things together. They were like a team.
On the other hand him and Y/n never had a good relationship. Not because she didn't want to, but because Pablo heavily dislike her.
She was the picture-perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, always doing what she's told to do. Pablo was not a bad kid, but he wasn't her.
Growing up, they used to be civil with each other. Respecting their personal space, not fighting.
Everything changed when Arturo, who used to be Pablo's best friend, fell in love with his sister. She was fourteen, and they were twelve. She, of course, never had any interest in Arturo.
But one night, when Arturo told her that he was in love with her, she was fifteen. She laughed, finding the whole situation funny. Rejected the thirteen year old boy and walked away from the scene.
Arturo didn't take that well. He felt humiliated. He fought with Pablo, telling him that he never wanted to be close to him or his sister.
Pablo never understood what happened, so he blamed his sister for it. That's where the fights began there. Pablo used every chance he had to bother his sister.
He used to leave her out of things, pull her hair, hide her things, and delete her important things from her computer.
His parents scold him and ground him without playing football. But that didn't work. After a while, she got used to it and didn't even told her parents about it anymore.
When Pablo became more serious with football, he focused his whole energy on the field. But he never agreed on fixing things.
Every time Aurora tried to be the mediator, she ended scolding Pablo about the hurtful things he said to her, making her cry. Pablo ended up laughing and leaving the room. Luckily for him, she moved to Barcelona to study.
For Pablo, the best moment in his career was when he became part of Barça first team. He was all smiles, and no doubt you were proud of your baby brother.
When your parents called you and told you that he got limited people to be there and had to choose for you to not join them when the announcement was made, it broke your heart.
Aurora found out that was a lie when she was helping him with some things for that day, she immediately told you.
She wanted you to go with the whole family and even told you she was telling your parents about what Pablo did. But you begged her not to, you didn't want to be the reason his day was ruined.
"Rora, por favor." You begged. "Don't tell mom."
"I'm just so mad at him. How dare he lied to us that way?"
"I don't know, but it's okay. He can choose who to have there."
"You're his sister."
"It's okay. I promise I'm okay."
You were not okay with the news, but you fake a smile and told Aurora how relieved you were because you had nothing to wear. Lies, you spend your savings on buying a nice outfit for the occasion. That night, you cried yourself to sleep.
Having him close but so far at the same time was horrible. You tried everything in you to get to see him but after all the read text, after he didn't return any of your calls or even try to make a space for you in his life, you were done hurting yourself. So you decided to have zero contact with Pablo.
He saw the glory, acting like Aurora was his only sister. He even started to tell new people in his life that, yes, Aurora was his only sister. Thing that neither Aurora nor you knew about, thinking it was because people didn't know about you for not being as public as Aurora.
It wasn't easy, seeing him everywhere in posters at every place in Barcelona, or the games, or when you see people wearing his number on their jerseys. But you had to remember that he was the one that didn't want you there, and as much as it hurts, you respect his decision.
"But mami, why am I supposed to do?" You ask uninterested. "I get he's hurt but, he's not dying."
"Y/n, please. I know you have your own things going on, but neither Daddy nor I can go to check him. And Aurora is on finals. Please baby."
Pablo got injured during a game. His muscles were not very good, and he needed to rest. Your parents were in Sevilla. They couldn't just leave work and go to check on him.
So they ask you to take care of him. You nicely said no because you didn't want to put yourself in a position where Pablo could easily attack you.
But when they find out he needed help to do things like getting upstairs, get dressed carefully, and take his medication. Your parents start begging you to help them.
"Okay, I'll do it." You say frustrated. "But what am I supposed to do? Move myself from here to there and back again? You have no idea how expensive that is going to be."
"Mi amor, daddy and I are taking care of that. Don't worry."
"But are you sure Pablo is okay with this?"
"Si, hija. Ya te lo repetí cinco veces." (Yes, I already repeat it five times)
"Got it, I'll go to his house before he gets back from training."
"Gracias, do you know the door code? Because I have it somewhere"
"Yes, I know it." You interrupted. "Listen, I have to go get ready if I want to be on time. I'll tell him to call you."
You say your goodbyes, promising her that everything was going to be fine.
The Uber from your house to Pablo's was kind of expensive. Due to being in a zone meant for students and his being on a gated community, it was basically going to the other side of Barcelona.
"Gracias." You say getting out of the car and entering the house. Once you're inside, you find yourself amazed. It was a beautiful and very minimalistic place.
You looked around, there's pictures of him with the rest of your family, some pictures with Aurora, with his friends.
You were earlier than you expected to be. You thankfully packed your computer and books. Not wanting to just be around doing nothing.
About twenty minutes later, you heard the front door opening. You sense other voices.
"Cuidado, que no queremos que te lastimes más de lo que ya estas " (careful, we don't want you to hurt yourself more than you already are)
You stayed quiet, looking at the two boys helping Pablo.
"There you go. Let me bring you your crutches. Pedri help me with his backpack "
He stayed still, grabbing the door.
"Pablo," you say low.
He turned his head to you. He knew you would be there because your mother told him.
"Dejame ayudarte," you ask, seeing him struggling to stand on his own. (Let me help you)
"No." He harshly moved his arm from you. "My friends are doing that already."
"I know but-"
"Help me with bringing me water, I need to take a pill."
The way he turns his back to you is making you mad. You were there to help him, no need to act like a little boy.
"Is cold water okay?" You ask, he ignored you. So you take that as a yes. You walk into the kitchen, searching for the cups.
"Y/n" Pablo call you.
"Yes?"
"Can you bring another cup of water?"
"Okay." You say grabbing another cup. "A please would be nice, tho." You whisper to yourself.
You walk back, finding two other boys. One blonde and tall and other a little taller than Pablo, black hair and very full eyebrows.
"Here," you hand him the water. "This is for?" You ask.
"For me." The black hair guy says. "Thank you."
You smile at him, a little shy about starting a conversation. "Where's your medicine? You need to take not one but two pills." You say, remembering the doctors note your mother sent you.
"Only one, today they told me that I can drop the other one."
"Where is it?" You ask. He ignored you because he was on his phone
"Is in his room, I think." The blonde one says. You wanted to throw a pillow at your brother. Not even caring to answer a simple question.
You smiled and nodded, making your way upstairs and entering room for room until you found your brother's one. The pills were easy to find. They were on his nightstand, It was the only thing there.
You look at the disorder of his room, you'll help him cleaning a bit because it was hard for you to believe he can sleep with all of this.
"Found it," you say, getting back. "Do you need more water?"
"Mhm"
"I'll be back."
"But not cold water." He hands you the cup back. You nod, kind of uncomfortable with the whole interaction. After all, it was the first one in a year.
You go back in the kitchen, filling the cup with water and making another trip back to the living room.
"Hey, since Pablo is not introducing us. I'm Frenkie." The blonde one says, smiling at you.
"And I'm Pedri." The black hair one says, imitating the actions of Frenkie.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Y/n." You only smile at them, not being the best at meeting new people.
After the boys introduce themselves, they chat a little. You notice that Pablo was on his phone the whole time. Giving half answers.
"Okay, we're leaving, Pablito. Please take care." Frenkie pats him on the back. "And y/n, nice to meet you."
"Bye," Pedri says, waving. You wave them goodbye.
After they left, the silence in the room was a not so nice one for you. Pablo was in his own world, focused on his phone.
"Pablo, are you hungry?" You ask picking up the empty cups. He ignored you.
You roll your eyes, trying to control the urge to throw him a cup. "Pablo, please answer." The way he keeps ignoring you is annoying. "Okay." You walk to the kitchen, droping the cups at the sink. Go back to where he is, pick up your backpack, and walk to the front door. "Have fun."
"Wait, where are you going? Mom said You'll help me." He finally acknowledged you.
"Mira, te voy a decir algo." (Look, I'm going to tell you something) you close the door. "Yo tengo mejores cosas que hacer que cuidarte, así que si no quieres mi ayuda me voy, no voy a aguantar tus cosas." (I have better things to do rather than take care of you. So if you don't want my help, I'm leaving, I'm not dealing with this attitude)
He has this surprise but angry face. When you were a kid, you loved the way his angry face looked, but now that you're mad at him, you heavily dislike it.
"So, I'm going to ask you one more time, only one, because if you pull this silence treatment one more time, I'm out the door." You put your backpack back on the couch. "Are you hungry? Yes or no?"
"Yes, very hungry," he says, looking at his phone.
"Now," you grab his wrist and separate his phone from his face. "Would you like me to cook something for you, or do you want takeout?"
"You cook?" He scuffs
"Pablo." You warn him.
"Vale, vale, no te enojes." He lift his hands "puedes hacerme un sandwich o cualquier cosa, no sé." (Okay, okay, don't get angry. You can make me a sandwich or something, i don't know.)
You sigh. It was going to be some hard weeks.
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"Pablo, c'mon man, you have to do this, or you'll never progress." You say trying to get him to apply a gel the physiotherapist sent him.
"But it stinks." He says, slapping your hand away.
"Pablo, te quedas quieto y me dejas aplicarte esto o te lo voy a pasar por la cara." (Stay still and let me apply this to you, or I'll smush it all over your face) You dig your nails to his calves, thing you used to do back when you were kids and you had a fight.
"Stop that." He says, grabbing you by the wrists. "Don't do that." His tone is strong yet he's not yelling.
"It's everything alright?" You both turn your face to Pedri, who was carrying a fast food bag and some drinks.
"No." You both say.
"Okay, I'm leaving this on the counter and I'll help you deal with this dickhead."
"Eres un imbecil, Pedro." Pablo says, angry.
"Pablito, mi vida, escuchame." You whisper sweetly. "Let me apply this. The quicker you say yes, the quicker I'll do it. Por favor."
His eyes are back on you, mad expression on his face. He puff angrily, letting your hands go. You quickly open the gel and apply it the way it's supposed to.
"Ya, calmado?" Pedri asks, laughing. "I know that gel is the worst, but it's really refreshing." Pablo puffs again. "Venga macho, vamos a comer que te traje tu comida favorita." (C'mon man, let's eat, I bring you your favorite food.)
Pedri helps Pablo walk to the table. Since his crutches were somewhere else. You go into the kitchen and wash your hands really well. He was right that gel stinks.
"I bring you something to eat, I'm not sure what you like, so sorry if it's not what you expected." Pedri says, walking into the kitchen.
"You did?" In the last few days, he was a big help with your brother, always picking him to go to his therapy and back home. He nods, smiling. "Thank you, Pedri."
"Can one of you bring more napkins?" Pablo yelled. You turn to take the napkins, giving them to Pedri.
"You're not eating with us?" He asked, confused about you opening your laptop instead of going to the table with them.
"No, I have some homework, plus, this kid for the love of God can't keep his room organized, so I'll go help him with that." You say exasperated, opening your a word document.
"You're such a good cousin."
You stop on your tracks, trying not to show your expression. "A good what?" You ask without moving your eyes from your screen.
"A good cousin, I mean you took time out of your life to take care of Pablo." The way he's saying this in such a positive way. Not even knowing how the words he just said affect you.
"How do you know we are cousins?" You ask, smiling a little, pretending to continue the conversation.
"Pablo told us, he said the first time we met you that you were his cousin that was helping him with his injury."
You only nod. Feeling how your stomach is turning.
"Go back with him. You're probably hungry. " You want him out of the kitchen, not wanting your facial expressions to betray you. "Thanks for the food."
Once his out of the kitchen, you can feel some tears pooling in your eyes. Not sure if it's anger or betrayal.
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"No pensé que fueras cule." Pedri says, entering the house and leaving the bag that belongs to Pablo on the table. (Didn't think you were a cule.)
"Well, Pablo plays for the team, so I kind of am." You joke, smiling at him. "But to be honest, Alexia is the only reason I'm watching the game."
"Alexia? God, she's the best." He takes a seat next to you. "She's like a firework."
"Also, Aitana, they're my favorites."
"You should ask Pablo to introduce you to them." He laughs, "We have full access to games for the feminine team. He can take you to a game." You only nod.
Since he told you how Pablo introduce you to them as a cousin, you barely even look at him. Helping him like you promised your parents and then leaving, no words exchanged.
"I don't want to be a bother." You say, honestly.
"You won't, look, my cousin Adrian, he was the first one to ask me to introduce him to Messi." He laughs remembering. "Not even my brother."
You look down at your hands. For him, it was easy. His family and him were so close, for you, it was hard, Pablo never liked you.
"I'll think about it." You say, "Pablo is upstairs by the way."
"Joder, si no me quieres cerca dímelo." He jokes, laughing at your words. "But thank you. I'll go see him." (Fuck, if you don't want me close you can say that)
"That's not what I meant." You laugh. "But I know you're here for him."
"And what if I'm not here only for him?" He asks looking at you, smiling sweetly.
The heat creeps to your cheeks, you turn your face back to the game, not wanting him to see your red face.
He laughs at your actions, standing up from the couch. "I'll go upstairs. Hope Alexia scores." He says before walking upstairs.
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"Let me get you another drink." Your friend says, taking your cup, you're at a party that she got you in, you don't even know who's hosting or anything, but you were enjoying and drinking.
"Okay, I'm going to the bathroom." You shout, walking inside, you ask a few people for the bathroom. All of them point at a door at the end of the corridor.
After using the bathroom and washing your hands, you exit ready for more drinks. Your body hit someone on the way out of the house, and the drink of this person has spilled all over you.
"Joder, lo siento mucho." The voice says, worried. "Y/n?" Pedro asks, eyes focusing on your face.
Your eyes found his. "Pedri." You smile.
"Sorry, nena. I spill this shit all over you. Come here." He grabs your hand and walks with you back into the bathroom. "Let me help you." He grabs the towel that's there. "Can I?"
You can't even control your actions. Your arms are now behind your back, giving him access to your chest area, where most of the drink spilled.
He carefully patted the towel to dry you. "Te puedo reponer el vestido, lo siento tanto" (I can pay for your dress, I'm really sorry).
"Don't worry, it was an accident."
"No, seriously. I can take you to get a new dress."
You nod smiling. Eyes fixed on his. On the way his focus expression makes him look so handsome, the way the yellow light in the bathroom hit his skin and made it shine almost perfectly.
"Wanna dance?" You ask out of nowhere, grabbing his wrist, making him stop. Fingers tapping on his skin.
"You want to dance?" He's focused on the way you look, how good you look on that dress. "With me?" He asks, scuffing.
"Is that a yes or a no?" You laugh. Your fingers grab the towel, throwing it somewhere on the floor.
He nodded quickly. You take his hand, intertwine it with yours, and walk outside to the dance floor, there's a lot of people, but you're only focusing on the guy in front of you.
Pedro is doing the same, the way you're dancing, the way you're smiling and making him dance when he doesn't know what to do.
"Pedri." You grab his arms and pull him closer to you. "You look so good tonight." Your hands caress his arms up and down, making him shiver.
"I think you're kind of drunk, bonita." He's trying to stop the thought of kissing you.
"Yet you're the one that spilled your drink on me." You laugh. He swears your laugh is adorable.
"And I'm sorry about it." He honestly says, "I'll make it up for you."
"And how are you going to do it?" You got closer to him. "Tell me." Maybe it is the alcohol in your system. Maybe it's just him.
"I have an idea." His hands are on each side of your face, fingers caressing your cheeks. "But I'm not sure if doing this while you're drunk is the right thing to do."
"Well I do think it is." You close the distance between you two, enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours.
One hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer, if that's possible, and the other playing with his hair.
His hands go down from your face to your waist, his fingers digging lightly onto your flesh. Making you moan a little at the feeling of his fingers.
Once the air run down you both separate, lips swollen from the kiss. "Any thoughts on the idea?" You joke. Pecking his lips. Action he repeats.
"I think I can help you out of the wet dress." He grabs your chin, giving you another peck. "Only if you let me." He says kissing your cheek, making you laugh.
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"Aurora!" you run to her. Jumping on her arms. "I missed you so much, hermanita." You grab her face, kissing her cheek repeatedly.
"Okay, I think that's enough." She laughed putting you down. "I missed you so much, life without is so boring." She hugs you tight.
"Let's go, I got Pablo's car so we can go anywhere we want." You show her the keys, making them jiggle in your hand.
"Got it like stealing it?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.
"He was sleeping, plus he's not using it."
She laughed, giving you another hug, you walk with her to where you parked.
"So, have you guys worked on your relationship?" She asks curious. You know her question is genuine curiosity, not anything bad intended.
You're not sure if you should tell her about the whole ~she's my cousin~ situation. "I mean we haven't kill each other." You half smile.
"Okay." She narrow her eyes. "Let's try again. But this time be honest."
"It's been weird, Pablo and I barely even talk, and when we do is more a single answers" you honestly answer, "I just wish we could be like the two of you."
"Don't worry, he's just weird in general, he'll open to you." She pat your shoulder.
"When? Rora, I don't know if you notice but he's about to turn nineteen and he can't even remember when my birthday is." You say exasperated. "Pablo doesn't like me, not matter if I'm his sister, he just doesn't."
Aurora doesn't answer, mostly because she doesn't know what to say to you. She's been the one who had to witness all the dumb fights, all the times he hurted you just because.
"I know he loves you." She says, body turning to yours. "Pablo might act weird but he loves you, he told me that."
"He did?"
"Yes, he's just a stupid teenager, so don't worry about him and his weird actions. You're his sister and he loves you." She hugs your arm. "Now let's go, he might wake up soon." She laughed.
Aurora notice the change in your face. She knows that she shouldn't lie to you. But she can't stand your sad eyes when you talk about Pablo.
And even when she tried to help the situation, she haven't archived nothing more than fighting between you two.
"I made you your favorite cake." You say as you enter the house. "And I'll prepare your favorite food for dinner."
"Oh I've missed you." She kiss your cheek. "Pablo!" She yells.
"I'll get your bags." You say going back to the garage.
Grabbing the bag and going back in, when you walk into the living room you saw Pablo hugging Aurora and kissing her cheek. Telling her how much he missed her.
"Y/n will make us some yummy food." She says, hugging him by the waist. "While we wait, let's have some cake."
"I thought the smell was coming from the neighbor house." He jokes, making you two laugh. "Let me help you unpack." He takes the bag from your hands, taking Aurora upstairs.
You turn to the kitchen, getting all the ingredients put to start with the food. Interrupted by the doorbell, you yell that you'll get it.
"Hola guapa." Pedri says as you open the door. "It's Pablo here? He left this at my house and asked me to drop it."
"Hola." You sat the greeting back. "He is, get in."
After the party Pedri and you have been seeing each other here and there. Both agreeing on not telling anyone, specially not Pablo.
"They're upstairs." You walk back inside and into the kitchen.
After a few minutes, Aurora walked singing something, "Need some help?" She asks, washing her hands.
"Can you peel the potatoes? Please."
You both chat a little, catching up on some things that you have pending. She told you about her and Javi.
"So, any boys in sight?" She asks, pinching your arm. "I need to know everything."
"What everything? I'm not seeing anyone." You laugh "The only man I'm seeing is my professor. And he's very annoying."
"Oh don't tell me that, you must be seeing someone. Tell me." She pout.
"I might be seeing someone, but it's something casual." You confess.
"Are you sleeping with him?" She whispers, leaving what she's doing, interested in the conversation.
"Aurora, you don't ask people that." You joke, turning to the sink, washing your hands. "But yes, I am."
"You whore." She laugh. "I can't believe it, you and I were playing with dolls only a few years ago."
"Ay por favor." You splash her with the remaining water in your hands. "As if you don't sleep with your boyfriend."
"I am but you're my baby. I can feel this way." She fake dry a tear. "So, is he your classmate?"
"I told you it was something casual, I'm not giving you more details." You hurry with serving the plates.
While she helps with the table you finish washing some things. Focused on the job you're doing, when two cold hands grab you by the waist you jump a little at the sensation.
"Qué haces?" (What are you doing?) You ask, taking his hands away from you.
"Don't worry, they're upstairs. Aurora is getting Pablo." He says, getting closer so he can kiss you.
"Pedro, not here." You say, getting away from him.
"Let me take you home, I need you so bad." He says, trying to get closer again. "Por favor."
You hear the voices coming downstairs, "fine, but keep your hands to yourself " you quickly kiss him, pushing him outside.
"Let's eat." Aurora says, happily.
The dinner was fun, Pablo and Pedro talked about the next game. "You should come to the game. I heard that Alexia and Jana are coming." Pedro says, looking at you with picardy.
"Uhhh she loves Alexia." Aurora says. "Pablo, can you get us to take a picture with Alexia?"
"Since when do you like Alexia?" Pablo ask you, confused look on his face.
"I've always liked her. Rora and I used to watch the games all the time." You laugh, "remember when we broke that flowerpot? Celebrating when she scored."
"That poor flower." She laughs, "God, grandma hated us."
Pablo raise a brow, never paid attention to your liking for the football player, better say not knowing anything about you.
"I can get you to know her. I'll talk to Xavi tomorrow."
"Thank you." You smile at him. Eyes connecting with Pedro right after, sending him a wink.
After that moment you keep talking about random things. Pedro offers to help you with the dishes.
"Nos vamos?" (Ready to go?) He whispers, kissing your shoulder.
"Let me say goodbye to Aurora and I'll be back." You pinch his cheeks. "Say your goodbyes to Pablo."
You hurry upstairs, reaching to her room. "Hey rorita, Pedri offered me a ride home, so I'm leaving. I promise I'll be here early so I can spoil you with some breakfast."
"Don't go, we can ask Pablito to take us to your place so you get some clothes so you stay here." She pout, hugging your arm. "Stay."
"I promise I'll be here early, plus you have to rest Rorita." You kiss the top of her head. "We can get ready together."
You hug her, helping her with turning the lights off. When you were about to go downstairs you hear Pablo calling you name. "Si?"
"I texted Xavi, he told me that he can arrange a little meeting with Alexia backstage."
"Really?" You smile, exited about the news.
"Yes, I'll give Aurora the details." After saying that, he close his door.
You hurried downstairs. Opening the door, finding the canarian boy waiting for you leaning on his car.
"To your place or mine?" He asks, opening the door for you.
"Mine," you kiss him, hand on his neck. "So sad you can't stay, but you can make it up later." You joke with him. Making him laugh.
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"Okay, smile." The photographer says, taking several pictures of the three of you. "Thank you. I'll send them to Gavi after the game."
"Thank you." You say. "Can we take a selfie? Please!" You take your phone out.
"All that you want" Alexia laughs, "well, not everything, I'm not up for a tik tok." She jokes.
"Oh God no, we won't ask you to do tik toks with us."
She place her hand to her heart, acting dramatic as a joke. "Thank you."
After the pictures and a little chat you both thank Alexia for her time. She says her goodbyes and left with the barca manager.
"I can't believe it." You say, jumping exited. Making Aurora jump with you too. "Omg I'm posting this on my story."
Pedro and Pablo were observing you from afar, "I think you just won the ~best cousin~ award." Pedro laughs, shaking his arm.
Pablo only nods, forgetting about him telling his friend about you being his cousin. Not wanting him to mention that in front of you or Aurora. Thinking you didn't know about it.
"Let's go back, Xavi's already mad."
"Go, I'll go to the bathroom real quick." Pedro says, turning to the other direction.
He takes his phone out. Texting you to meet him at the bathroom that's beside the changing room.
When you see it, you were about to leave to go back to your seats. "Hey, I'll go to the bathroom. I meet you on our seats." You say, walking back to the bathroom.
Not waiting for her answer you walk quickly to the end of the hall, entering the bathroom. "I think this is a women's bathroom, sir." You joke.
He won't miss time, pulling you from the waist. When his lips conect with yours, you place your arms on the back of his neck.
"So eager, was last night not enough?" You push him away to breathe. "So needy, González."
"For you?" He pecks you. "Always."
The makeout session begins again, his hands on your ass and yours on his hair.
You hear the bathroom door opening, pushing Pedro away was too late, Aurora alread saw you two. "Ay por Dios." (Oh my God) she gasp, leaving after that.
You don't even look at Pedro, quickly leaving him alone to go look for your sister. "Aurora." You yell, "please stop. I can explain." You run to her.
"Don't." She says when you grab her arm. "Let's go back to our seats."
She goes out back to the stadium seats. Leaving you there, you turn back and see Pedro getting out of the bathroom, eyes finding yours.
♡♡♡
🏷: @gaviandgrizisgirl 💛
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leonw4nter · 1 month
Note
Hi🌸
I saw that you were accepting requests so I have one for you. How about bringing husband Leon to the reader's high school reunion? The reader is kind of happy to bring Leon to his old classmates but Leon is so handsome and all that your old acquaintances are wondering why your marriage happened in the first place.
I was thinking about Leon re4r or id, but you can choose anyone!🌸
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A Playlist for My Dream High School Romance
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Husband!ID!Leon x GN!Reader
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Plain Jane: this is what you were in high school, though you didn’t really mind since there was more to being the most beautiful or the most outgoing in school. You always thought you dressed well; not the most fashionable but enough to look decent for school. You also looked fine, not too ugly or too beautiful with the round red framed glasses on your face. The lack of romantic experiences in high school sometimes bothered you but you didn’t mind it overall; you’ve seen the drama of high school romance in your classmates and ultimately decided that staying single is the best option for now… though sometimes you envied it when girls received flowers from their boyfriends or when you saw couples fill out the dance floor and slow danced during the prom. As a dramatic teen, you wailed to your pillow about how you’d never find the love of your life because you were too boring and how you’d always be the third wheel for every couple you’ll meet– hell, you were even confessed to because the boy was double-dog-dared to! You swore that you were destined to only daydream about falling in love with the man of your dreams, dancing under the rain or receiving carnival prices only scenarios that unfolded while you’re fast asleep.
Little did they know, they’d have the maker of their dreams to wake up to in the future; scenes ripped out of a romance novel were no longer bound within the confines of dreams. Leon was more than you’d asked for in the best way possible; he is more than just the beautiful combination of blond and blue, no. The first time you saw him, you thought he looked perfect, the epitome of beauty and charm. As you two got closer and he let you into his life and laid bare his scars for you, you saw that he is not a perfect man– far from it actually– yet you still loved him, maybe even more and much fiercely. You understood and listened to all his stories, accepted him for how he is, the same way he did with you.
Leon’s wedding ring momentarily flashed a bright gold as sunlight reflected from the band, his hands on the wheel as he drove you to your high school. A little nervous was an understatement for how antsy you’re feeling, though you found it stupid to feel this way since these people somewhat remember you and you’re just visiting the school– you literally went to this school for four years and managed to survive each time. Leon stopped the car at a red light, upbeat pop music playing faintly on the radio. He turned to look at you and saw you bouncing your leg, eyes focused and brows furrowed as you stared out on the road. You snapped out of the negative flurry of thoughts troubling you, jerking slightly as you felt Leon’s large hand on your shoulder.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Leon says as he sees you mentally pop back into the car with him. “You okay?”
You nod, giving him a half-smile as you place a hand on top of his that was perched on your shoulder.
“Yeah, just a little nervous,” you say. Just before you could let Leon say another word, you decide to speak up about whatever was bugging you.
“It’s a little stupid, I know. I mean– I went to school with most of these people for about 4 years and managed to do just fine. God, it’s silly of me to be nervous–”
“Hey,” Leon softly interrupts. “It’s only natural for you to be nervous about this. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen them and you’re expecting change in how they act and look and you’re not sure in what way they’ve changed.”
“Yeah that too but… you know, what if I’m like– too boring again?”
“Too boring?” Leon says in a confused yet gentle tone. “Honey, you’re not ‘too boring’ and if they think so then they can buzz off.”
Leon’s words caused some confidence to stir within you, feeling a little better about yourself. This isn’t like high school anymore. You got this! You got this!
Since the red light switched to green, Leon had to withdraw his hand from your shoulder and put it on the brake handle for the car to start moving again.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. If someone’s bothering you, just yelp and I’ll beat them up.” Leon joked.
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After a few minutes of Leon driving and hyping yourself up some more, he finally arrives at the school and pulls up into the parking lot. After a few moments of choosing the perfect spot to park, he gets out of the car first in order to open the door for you, which you thanked him for.
You two walked into the entrance and you looked around. Not a lot has changed, not even the color of the paint on the walls though you realized that they probably gave it a fresh coat since it looked much more vibrant than what your memory told you to expect. The lockers were still where they were when you still went to this school but they no longer had the scratched paint and rusting locks, along with the residue of glue from stickers that had been forcefully peeled off.
“Silverlake High School’s Silver Archers,” Leon quietly mutters to himself. “Your school’s mascot is an archer?”
“Yeah. Though we didn’t have an archery club, which I found kinda silly,” you respond.
Leon hums and continues to look at the trophy case, occasionally reading some things out loud.
“Honey look,” Leon says. “I found you!”
He points to a small picture in the case; it was you with your ratty old glasses and a silver medal around your neck, a small trophy on your hands along with some flowers. You lit up as you looked at that image, the memory clear as day; you had won second place in the inter-school extemporaneous speech competition with other neighboring high schools. You shared this fact with Leon, whose eyebrows flew to his hairline as he looked at you and then the case and back to you again, thoroughly impressed.
“I wifed up a genius,” Leon exclaims. “So you managed to win a competition where they asked the world’s most pressing questions and only gave you a minute to compose your answer in front of everybody? And you had to make sure that your answer would fit in 6 minutes? God you’re so cool.”
You giggled a little bit at that, suddenly feeling like the coolest person in this entire Earth. You thought that this win is truly a feat but these facts coming from Leon’s mouth? Your husband saying it? It was as if you were doing his job, saving the world and fighting off the stuff of nightmares with a pistol; it sounded even more impressive coming from him. Now, he was taking his phone out to take pictures of the other awards you’ve won that were displayed on the case.
“Leon, we gotta hurry. The reunion might’ve started already!”
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Luckily, you two made it on time. Like magic, you were less anxious compared to earlier and managed to find the courage to even greet some of your classmates. Leon was proud that you were breaking out of your shell to greet them, really feeling it with each laugh and conversation shared with some old acquaintances.
“Oh? Who’s that? He’s hot,” your classmate asks. “Never seen him around before. I wonder if he’s single.”
You turn around to where she’s pointing, only to see that she was pointing at Leon. Your husband. Oh he sure as hell isn’t single.
“Oh him? He’s Leon. My husband,” you say. You weren’t one to get jealous but to hear your classmate call Leon ‘hot’ and wonder if he’s single triggered a reaction out of you.
She looked surprised, looking back at you and then him and back at you again like a deer in headlights.
“Wait… really? Like you’re really married?” she asked and it didn’t sound like she was ready to ask how you two met; she sounded like she wanted to know how someone like him could marry someone like you.
“Yeah, I can make a quick run to the court right now for a copy of our marriage certificate,” you half-joke in order to hide the growing feeling of hurt.
“Uh, haha…,” she mumbles. “He’s everything actually- like he’s really good eye-candy. You’re lucky he chose you, you know.”
“I’m lucky he chose me? What do you mean by that.” you say.
“What do you mean?” She asks, oblivious to the fact on how mean that sounded. Or maybe she was just playing oblivious.
“Nevermind.”
You retreat from the group walking up to Leon and watch people socialize. Before he can even ask, the emcee for the reunion calls everyone’s attention and says some words but even the volume of that loud-ass mic was not enough to drown out the doubt swirling on your mind. You’re only pulled out of your thoughts when you hear her voice again, this time talking to other people about how shocked she is that you’re married to him, out of all people. The plain Jane married to the absolute 10 she’s ever seen and how it’s a little comical to look at when there could’ve been much hotter women. You also hate how she keeps glancing back at him and giggling, not even sparing a glance at you.
“That woman cannot stop looking at me,” Leon whispers to you as he subtly motions to her.
“Her? Yeah, she called you ‘hot’ and ‘eye-candy’. She’s a little surprised to find out that you’re married to me,” you moodily mumble.
“Why is she surprised?,” he asks.
“Well, look at me and then look at you. You’re good-looking. Really good looking and I’m just here. To them, it would be more believable if you married some model or something. It’s like an ‘oh my god how did this marriage even happen’ moment.”
Leon looks at them, trained eyes staring them down for a solid few moments before turning his gaze back to you. “Well I kind of looked at me and then now I’m looking at you and I think you’re good-looking. Like really good-looking. I have a strong, intelligent, and independent person in front of me and I don’t think they need me but they still let me into their life. Yeah, I’m also having a ‘how did this marriage even happen’ moment’ because how did I get so lucky that out of all the people in this world, you fell in love with me and trusted the rest of your life and the lives after this to be spent with someone like me?”, he finishes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in this world; he probably doesn’t need to look at the night sky in order to admire the stars when you have them in your eyes. The world just melted away into background noise, witness to the genuine love and loyalty Leon yields for you.
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NOTE - Finally got to finish another request, a few more to go so just wait for that :)) I love being on break, can't wait for the summer break so I get to write some more (currently on a week-long break after exams, hopefully i passed with high scores on all exams!!). ALSO IT'S RE4R'S 1ST YEAR ANNIVERSARY WHERE I'M FROM LETS GOOOOO RAAAHHHHH 💪💪🔥🔥 I also got resident evil and dmc shirts I begged my mom for (she had no choice but to say yes /hj). Also I'm starting an AO3 account for devil may cry fics, if anyone's interested ;) That's all and thank you for reading my fics, esp to the anon who requested this- I hope you I lived up to your expectations <33 I <33333 UUUUUUUU
The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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wheelsupimagine · 1 month
Text
Meant to be -Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x FemReader
Word count: 3.2k words
Warnings: mentions of s3 e16 and s4 e24, angst and fluff
Summary: A case reminded Spencer of his past and you the only friend he had in high school, what if one day you two meet again in DC.
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Being a resident genius had its favors, the team bets everything on him and he could always retrieve this but this case was different, it was difficult it got personal.
His edict memory is a blessing but not when a case like this reminded him of his past - Alexa Lisbon.
Then he wished he could forget everything for once in his life, but he will always remember.
When Spencer stepped out of the plane, he felt like he could breathe again, but his mind still raced - this case was an emotional roller coaster for him and the best way for Spencer to calm down was to go to his favorite bookstore.
The moment Spencer stepped into the bookstore he felt relieved, the familiar smell of old books and fresh coffee felt like home and no other person was in sight.
"Hey Spencer though case?!" Miranda the owner of the shop asked.
"Hey Miranda, yeah it was."
"Okay, your coffee will be ready in a bit, the bookstore is almost empty just one more person is here."
Spencer nodded but he was surprised that someone else would be here at this time still Spencer didn’t let himself bother knowing he would probably not even find this person.
Spencer left Miranda and made his way deeper into the bookstore. He was so invested in finding a new book, that he totally forgot about his coffee till he heard his name being called.
"Spencer Reid?" A stranger called his name
He turned his head and then he saw you.
Y/N Y/L/N.
What Spencer didn’t tell Derek was, who got him down from the goalpost back then - it was y/n, after that night you two spent more time together - Spencer could always come to you, and you two never talked about his problems and struggles because when he was with you it didn’t matter, once or twice he talked with you about his mom but mostly he just enjoyed your company and felt like a decent kid with a friend.
When he graduated high school, he never looked back but after 14 years you stand now in front of him right here in this bookstore in DC.
"Miranda asked me if I could bring you your coffee before it gets cold." You said and pointed at his coffee in your hand.
"My god Spencer, I can’t believe it’s you." You continued.
"Thank you y/n." Spencer took the coffee from you.
"It’s been a while, you look good by the way."
Spencer blushed, but he didn’t say anything back.
"Ähm yeah it was nice to see you again, I don’t want to bother much longer." As you attempted to leave, Spencer stopped you.
"Actually I could use some company if you like… Only if you want to obviously, I would understand if you don’t want to…" Spencer
rambled, but you stopped him.
"I would love to keep you company Spencer."
You two sat down and drank your coffee and talked. Spencer found out that you moved here two years ago because you got a job offer at the Walter Reed hospital and nothing held you in Las Vegas. Spencer talked to you about his job in the FBI, you asked him about Diana and it surprised him that you still knew her name, you two had a great time together until you caught Spencer off guard.
"Spencer, how are you really? You have very dark circles under your eyes."
"I…I haven’t slept really, it was this case that reminded me of something in the past." Spencer sighed and didn’t dare to look you in the eyes.
You knew where his mind went, you rubbed Spencer’s arm.
"But look at you now, these High school jerks and Alexa are definitely regretting this now." You looked at your clock.
"Hey Spencer it’s getting late, I have to wake up early and honestly you need some sleep too."
Spencer's mimic changed from happy to sad in one motion.
"Oh, I understand. Yeah yeah, you should leave you need your sleep." Spencer took his distance from you, thinking you wanted to leave because you already had enough of him.
"Spencer hey, if you want we can exchange phone numbers so we could meet again."
Spencer’s lips curved into a smile.
"Yeah, I would like that."You exchanged numbers and you both left the shop together.
Sadly you two had to split ways, Spencer insisted on walking you home but you promised him that it wouldn’t even take 10 minutes till you were home. Spencer started rambling about unsafety and what everything could happen in 10 minutes.
"Wow, now I might think I have to stay with you forever." You joked
but Spencer was stunned and it caused his cheeks to turn slightly pink.
"I just made a joke Dr. Reid, okay. Would you feel better if I wrote you when I made it home save in 10 minutes?" You asked him.
"This would make it slightly better. But.."
"But?" You asked confused.
"You lied," Spencer said.
"What?"
"You first said you would be home in less than 10 minutes now it’s exactly 10 minutes." Spencer smiled and you laughed.
"Come home safe Dr. Reid."You smiled and turned around making your way home.
When Spencer arrived home, he thought about going to bed immediately but you crossed his mind again and when he looked at his phone he saw that you hadn’t wrote him yet. So instead of getting in his pyjamas he sat on his couch and waited for your text.
After 10 minutes and 45 seconds, you texted him letting him know you made it home safe.
Spencer:You are too late.
Y/n:What?!
Spencer:You are exactly 45 seconds too late. Next time I call the FBI.
Y/n:haha. I am so sorry dr Reid, I changed into my pajamas first.
Y/n:You didn’t need to stay awake for me
Spencer:But I wanted to make sure that you save.
Y/n:Thank you Spencer but you also need to sleep.
Spencer:Good night Y/n sleep well.
Y/n:Sleep well genius.
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Over the last few months, Spencer and you met at the bookstore when your jobs allowed it. Otherwise, you two stay connected through messages and phone calls. Even the team noticed a shift in Spencer’s mood and as the man Derek is he asks him about it.
"Hey, pretty boy, who’s got you on the phone like this?"
"What do you mean, I use my phone like I always do."
"No boy wonder, for someone who rarely uses his phone in his free time, you are really caught up in it now." Derek laughed.
"Is pretty boy in love?" Derek asked and wiggled with his brows.
"Derek please can you leave it, it’s nothing," Spencer answered and didn’t dare to look Derek in the eyes.
"Okay Spencer, I let it slide for now but just so you know I care about you and if there is someone in your life that makes you happy, I just want to know."
Paperwork days for Spencer were never a problem, he accepted it cause it needed to be done but now with you in his life, he loved paperwork because it meant he wasn’t away on a case and with you having the morning shift, it gave you two the chance to meet up after work and he enjoyed your time together, he feels like he can be like himself with you and he hasn’t laughed so much since he met you.
But your jobs didn't allow this too much, either you had the night shift or Spencer was out of town for a case and he hated this, he hated when you weren’t around, he hated it when you two were in the same city but didn’t get to see each other and even though he loves his job, he couldn’t wait to come home, to see you - he missed you.
Cases also mean for him that he barely has time to call you.
Currently, Spencer has been away for a week already, this case going longer than he thought it would take, Spencer lay on his motel bed and tried to find the breakthrough for the case but nothing came to his mind.
He put the papers aside and looked at the clock, it wasn’t too late in DC yet, and he was unsure if he should call you, it’s nothing you usually do so that Spencer could stay focused on the case but honestly, he needed to hear your voice tonight, so he tried to call you hoping you aren’t already asleep.
"Spencer? Is everything okay?" Your voice sounds raw.
"Hey, yeah everything is okay. Did I wake you up? I am so sorry, I really didn’t mean to, it was a stupid idea to call you, you obviously slept, and your voice sounds raw. I should-."
"Spencer, breath, everything is fine. I didn’t sleep, I - I just rolled around, I was thinking about you."
Spencer was stunned by your confession, he stayed silent but his heart was beating very fast.
"So yeah, what’s on your mind, Spencer?" You asked breaking the silence.
"We don’t come forward with the case and I...I wanted to hear your voice." Spencer confessed.
"Sometimes it takes more time to find the perpetrator but the only thing that matters is that you will find him. I miss you but please stay safe there."
"I will y/n, I promise."
"Hey, Spencer."
"Yes, y/n."
"Why don’t we meet when you come back, we could order takeout and make a movie marathon at my place nothing fancy." You suggested.
"Yeah, yeah I would like that."
"Good, I will see you soon, good night Spencer."
"Good night y/n."
A few days later the team finally caught the unsub.
As the team flew back to Virginia, Spencer wrote you to let you know that he would land in the late afternoon and asked you if you two wanted to have the movie marathon tonight which you accepted.
Spencer didn’t even realize that he smiled like an idiot until Derek pulled him out of his thoughts.
"You pretty boy what got your smile like that?" Derek asked Spencer.
"Uh n-no-nothing," Spencer said but his cheeks turned 10 times darker every second.
"Sureee Spencer."
Spencer didn’t say anything.
"Hey Spencer," Derek said.
"Yeah."
"It’s good to see you like this," Derek replied. He left Spencer alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t wait to see you tonight.
Spencer arrived at your apartment complex 10 minutes too early, he first waited in his car, drumming his fingers on his bouncing leg, trying to calm himself down but he failed miserably, so he stood in front of your door 7 minutes and 43 seconds too early but it was okay, in that time he tried to get his breath under control.
But before Spencer got his breath under control, you already opened the door.
"Man, I thought you would never knock at my door." You greeted him.
"How-how did you know I stood in front of your door?" Spencer asked.
"I saw you parking your car 5 minutes ago, I waited for you.”
"Oh yeah I didn’t want to be late here but I also didn’t want to be too early, I didn’t know if you were ready yet," Spencer explained.
"It’s okay Spencer but next time just knock you could never be annoying to me, even if you're too early you can sit on my couch like right now."
"I will quickly make the popcorn, you can look for a movie we could watch." You suggested and Spencer sat down and looked for a good movie to watch that you also liked, when you returned with the popcorn and other snacks, you sat down next to him but not too close, Spencer still didn’t decide what to watch.
"I-I don’t know what to watch, movies that I like are mostly not the type from others," Spencer admitted.
"Okay mhm, what do you think of Star Trek?"
"What?!" Spencer was completely shocked.
"Ähm okay was that a bad request?"
"No, no it’s- it’s great actually, I love it, I didn’t think you would like these types of movies," Spencer admitted.
"I am full of surprises Spencer."
So you watched the Star Trek series and after some time you both fell asleep, no one knows who fell asleep first maybe it was you or him but for sure was that you both bumped your heads, after a phone went off - it was Spencer’s.
"I’m sorry, I’ve got a case, is your head okay?"
"Yeah, yeah is there enough time for coffee or do you have to leave immediately?"
"No, it looks really important I have to leave now, but at least the case is here."
"Okay, good luck, be safe."
"I will be." As Spencer was about to leave he turned around once more.
"Hey y/n?"
"Yes, Spencer."
"I had a lot of fun last night."
"Me too, maybe we couldn’t do it again sometime?"
"I would love to, bye y/n."
"See you soon doctor, come home to me in one piece."
Just when the door felt shut, your phone started ringing, it was the hospital.
"Hey, y/n. Is it possible for you to fill in today, maya is sick."
"Yeah sure, I am on my way."
Spencer just visited Abby one of the remaining survivors, in the middle of their conversation Abby got aphasia, which scared Spencer, this stain kills people in a short amount of time and right now he couldn’t do anything.
Then he thought about you, and he had the urge to talk to you, even though he may get in trouble for this he needed to know you were okay.
"Spencer, is everything okay?" You said quite in panic.
"Yeah, yeah sure why wouldn’t it be… I.. I just wanted to hear your voice and I wanted to know if you are okay."
"Everything is okay, besides I have to work today."
"What !! I thought it was your free day?"
"Yeah, change in plans, one of my colleagues is sick and they asked me to fill in, but it’s fine, it’s a quiet day." You lied to Spencer, nothing was quiet on this day.
Hey, Spencer, it looks like I’ve got to go out there again. Look out for yourself and maybe if you’d like we could out soon.. like on a real date, maybe?"
"..I would like it, yeah, that would be great."
"Good, stay safe Spencer. Bye"
"Goodbye, Y/n. Take care of yourself. See you soon."
You both hung up with a smile and at least forgot the scary situation for a few seconds, before you got out again and took care of the anthrax-infected patients.
Spencer and Derek made their way to Nichols a possible suspect in the anthrax case. When they arrived Spencer had cut himself briefly on the thorn bush but it didn't stop him and continued to walk with Derek closer to the house.
Before Morgan and Reid entered Nichols's private lap, Derek got a phone call, Reid made his way into the lab and left Derek behind.
As Derek ended the call, he realized Spencer was not behind him. Derek ran towards the house calling for Reid and just when he arrived at the house, Spencer closed the door from the lab and told Derek he couldn’t get in there just then Derek saw the broken test tube with Anthrax in it.
Spencer was a step closer to death.
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You took the mask from your face and took a deep breath and you finally broke down, you started crying, it was too much for you, seeing all those vulnerable people and you can’t do anything to help them, you can only try to make this stay as comfortable as possible.
You knew what this job meant, you can’t save everybody but this is not fair, how can a human being so heartless and let these people perish?
You took another deep breath and then you thought about Spencer, hopefully was okay, far away from this situation but deep down you knew he wasn’t, he is in the FBI of course he is involved but please let him be okay.
You needed to hear Spencer's voice, so you called him.
"Y/n…" Spencer began to cough.
"Spencer.. what's happening. You don’t sound okay."
"Everything is fine." Spencer coughed again.
"Spencer…no matter what is happening…"
"Y/n listen." Spencer cut you off.
"I love you Y/n… everything is gonna be okay but I've got to go now. Then Spencer hung up and you didn’t get to answer him.
You tried it a few more times but he didn’t pick and now it felt like your world broke down, you burst into tears knowing couldn’t do anything.
After Spencer and Dr. Kimura may have found the cure for this anthrax, Spencer finally gets to go out of the lab and go to the shower, but as Spencer untied his tie, Dr. Kimura sees the cut Spencer got from the bush and the situation just got more dangerous, hopefully, the cure was in the inhaler.
When Dr. Kimura came in with a newly infected anthrax patient your heart skipped a beat - it was Spencer.
He was in an awful state and for a moment you didn’t know if he would survive this.
The situation finally got under control with the confirmation from the lab that the cure was in the inhaler, the last survivors and Spencer were able to be cured and now it was a matter of time before Spencer woke up.
When you walked towards Spencer’s room, you saw a man sitting by Spencer and eating his jello that you put on his table, just then Spencer woke up and immediately asked if there would be more jello.
As you arrived at Spencer's room you couldn’t hold back anymore.
"Hey." You've said as if a stone fell from your heart.
"Hi." Said Spencer with a smile on his face.
You both wanted to say so much more but with this muscular man in the room who you didn’t know - there was an awkward silence there.
"Okay, I think it’s my time to leave. Have fun lover boy." The man said and left you too alone.
"You’ve scared me, Spencer." You sat down on the bed and took his hand in yours.
"I didn’t mean to do this and I am sorry for what I said, I would understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, I mean with what I said I took this.." Spencer rambled.
"I love you too Spencer."
"WHAT?! Really?"
"Yes Spencer, of course I do, I've loved you since we first met back in Las Vegas."
Spencer cupped with both hands your face and you leaned in and then you two kissed for the first time.
"So you still want to go out with me?" You asked.
"Of course Y/n." You both hugged and Spencer's face was crooked in your neck.
"Hey, Y/n?"
"Yes, Spencer."
"Before we go out on the date, can I have some of this jello?" Spencer asked shyly but you just started laughing.
"Of course, my love, you can have as much jello as you want."
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Man - when I wrote this it felt from length okay but now I feel like it’s a little rushed maybe you could give me feedback if I should get more in detail with the story and the conversations.
I am still very new to writing and it feels super though to write Spencer so that he still has his character traits and doesn’t sound like a totally different Spencer.
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