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#my all time top ten favorite fics
littlexdeaths · 2 months
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i get off - e.m.
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perv eddie munson x perv fem reader
you don’t know that i know, you watch me every night…
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), eddie is lil peeping tom but reader loves it, they both steal each other’s shit, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum eating, choking, spanking, dirty talk, mean!dom eddie, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, squirting, they both are nasty freaks
a/n: this is another edit and repost from my old account. it’s one of my favorite fics so i had to move it over here. enjoy freaks xx. 😘
based on i get off by halestorm
word count: 3.8k
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you’re sprawled out on your bed, fingers running through your drenched folds. clad in only an oversized iron maiden t-shirt and a pair of knee high socks, you’re everything he’s ever wanted. plucked directly out of one of his dirtiest fantasies.
you can feel his eyes on you, you always do.
not that he realizes that.
and while you’ve lived barely ten feet apart for your entire lives, eddie has never had the courage to make a move.
so he settles for this— watching you through his bedroom window.
fantasizing that the delicate fingers now dipping inside you were his. and the fist currently wrapped around his thick cock was smaller, softer. yours.
the first time he witnessed you like this it was a complete accident.
you had been pent up all day, and didn’t think to shut your bedroom curtains before slipping your hand inside your panties. the bedside lamp bathing your room in a muted yellow hue. eddie had been working on a new song, guitar perched on his lap.
he was frustrated with trying to string together this new melody, glancing up in utter annoyance. that is until his gaze drifted towards the window, his eyes widened and his cock stirred in his jeans.
you looked beautiful, you always did. however this was the most vulnerable state you could be in, and the fact that he got to witness it— made you all the more enchanting to him.
he’d be embarrassed to admit that watching you touch yourself made him cum in his jeans, completely untouched. and that first time you were none the wiser, not noticing the dark eyes that were trailing your figure. but once eddie had gotten a taste he couldn’t get enough.
eagerly waiting by his bedroom window to enjoy his new favorite nightly program… you.
you weren’t sure exactly how long he’d been doing it for, but the night you caught him in the act, it awoke something within you. while eddie made sure to keep his bedroom light off, the moonlight was not on his side that night.
it had filled his room in a soft white glow, highlighting his pale skin. his naked form perched on the edge of his unmade bed, stroking his shaft in tandem with each thrust of your fingers.
his moans are what gave him away, as your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure. but he’d gotten a little too carried away, thinking about how pretty your pussy would look stuffed full with his cock.
the thin walls of the trailer doing nothing to conceal his sounds. when your eyes finally opened, you were met with the most glorious sight you’ve ever seen.
eddie fucking himself into his fist, his head tilted back as he spilled all over his ringed fingers. the image alone had your eyes rolling back, body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. one of the most intense you’ve ever had, and from that night on you always kept your curtains open.
desperately chasing that euphoric feeling again.
while you didn’t always see him, you knew he was there. the feeling of his greedy eyes on you was enough to have you cumming harder than you ever have in your entire life. your whimpers were muffled but still rang through his ears as he’d make a mess all over his hand and chest.
different images of you— on your knees, on top of him, taking you from behind, or his favorite with his head buried between your thighs.
it was slowly driving him crazy, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of you. he needed more. he quickly found himself staring out his window any chance he could. gazing longingly as you floated around your bedroom.
he watched you change, get ready for the day, study with your college textbooks. your pencil resting in between your teeth. eddie knew it was wrong, that if you ever found out you would be revolted.
if he only knew it was the exact opposite, and how you couldn’t finish without feeling his eyes on you. but you also needed more, desperate to feel his weight on top of you. his mouth trailing over your skin, his cock stretching you out perfectly.
so you became bolder, going as far as to leave your bedroom window open. letting your moans drift through the night air, teasing him further.
and when you noticed some of your panties had gone missing it only heightened your desire for him. knowing he was in your room, touching your things… holding your panties up to his nose as he came all over himself.
grunts of your name escaped his pouted lips, and his left yours as you drenched your fingers. but it wasn’t enough.
you needed him.
fueled by your insatiable lust you found yourself gazing at him more and more. as he sat on his messy floor, playing guitar or working on a dnd campaign. focusing intently on his fingers, and imagining just how good they would feel inside you.
but your favorite was when he was fresh out of the shower. his dark curls were drenched, water dripping down his inked chest. the patch of hair that disappeared beneath his towel drove you absolutely mad.
so you took a play out of his own book, sneaking into his room while he was working at benny’s. or coming home late from a gig at the hideout, surrounding yourself in everything that was so distinctly eddie.
eddie honestly wasn’t concerned when a few of his shirts had gone missing. or a pair of his cum stained boxers, a guitar pick… as he lost things all the time. he simply chalked it up to his forgetful nature, either he misplaced them or lent them to someone.
that is until tonight, as he peered through your window for what felt like the millionth time. his heart was in his throat as he instantly recognized the iron maiden shirt adorning your frame as his.
the realization dawns on him that you knew exactly what he’d been doing this whole time… and instead of being disgusted or upset, you liked it. enough so that you began doing the same thing to him.
that epiphany made any reservations or fears he still had fade into nothingness. the male decided that he couldn’t sit back and only watch you anymore.
he had to have you.
the brunette rose to his feet, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his long legs before slipping out of his bedroom window. quickly dropping onto the ground as he walks the short distance to your adjoined trailer.
his large hands grip the bottom of the window sill, pushing it open the rest of the way before he’s hoisting himself through it. a small gasp leaves you as he tumbles inside and onto your bedroom floor.
eddie is quick to get back on his feet, as you eagerly eye the obvious tent in his gray sweats. licking his plump lips as he sizes you up. he stalks forward like a predator, slowly crawling onto your bed and between your spread legs.
the male grabs your wrist, coaxing your fingers out of your drenched cunt. raising them up to his mouth, slipping them between his lips with a deep groan. “such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”
for once you’re speechless, his actions jumbling your already fuzzy thoughts. you never imagined he’d actually come through your window, like you’d been dreaming about for weeks.
“speak for yourself munson…” your confidence suddenly comes rushing back, pushing your fingers deeper into his mouth. feeling your wetness pooling onto the bed sheets as he swirls his tongue around them.
“guess we’re both a little dirty, huh baby?” eddie chuckles as he removes your fingers from his mouth, now leaning over you.
letting yourself fall back against the pillow, his face mere inches from yours. this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to him, now noticing the light freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose. the dimple that indents his cheek as he smirks down at you, little things that you found utterly endearing.
his hands begin drifting down your sides, his smirk only widening as you shudder beneath him. “is that what does it for ya? you like being watched sweetness?” he grips the fabric of his shirt, starting to push it up your torso.
you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. “i get off on you…” you slowly trail your lips up his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto his pale skin. the male letting out a husky moan as you nip at his ear, “getting off on me.”
eddie curses under his breath before he’s pinning you down against the mattress, his lips crashing against yours. your fingers tangle in his wild curls, kissing him back just as forcefully. all the pent up sexual tension and desire now spilling from both of you, as his hips rut into yours. feeling his hard length pressing onto your thigh, moaning into his mouth.
your impatience seems to get the better of you as you grip onto one of his wrists, guiding his large hand in between your thighs. a not so subtle way of telling him exactly what you wanted, the male nipping at your lower lip before he’s leaning back onto his knees.
spreading your thighs even wider, as his dark eyes zero in on the mess between them. his fingers dip between your folds, gathering your sticky nectar on the digits. swirling them around your swollen clit before moving lower.
the metalhead teases you as he circles the tip of his middle finger on your entrance. barely pushing it inside you before removing it, a wet squelch filling the room. “oh listen to her purr for me baby… you want my fingers inside you?”
you nod frantically, lifting your hips up in an effort to get him closer to where you needed him. but he pulls them away immediately, causing you to whine from the loss. eddie grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together as he meets your hooded gaze. “i asked you a question, sweet cheeks.”
he watches as your eyes glaze over more, the dominance he was exuding turning your brain to mush. “and i expect an answer, or is that pretty little head of yours too fucked out for me?” his tone is condescending, borderline rude but it only seems to fuel the fire in between your legs.
you let out a soft whimper, the male letting go of your cheeks to trail his sticky fingers down your jaw.
“need your fingers eddie…” the male chuckles, wrapping his hand around your neck. hovering his face over yours, his thumb stroking the column of your throat.
“need them where, hm?”
you’re quickly becoming impatient, and he can tell from how your lips jut out into a pout. thighs closing in around his own, in an attempt to feel some kind of friction.
“come on now… don’t ya wanna be a good girl for me?” he can see the effect those words have on you, your pupils dilating and your breath hitching in your throat.
“put them inside me.”
while your tone is meant to be demanding, it comes out as more of a plea than anything else. your heart is racing in anticipation as his fingers trail down your stomach. cupping your cunt in the palm of his hand, “and what do good girls say?”
you now realize your mistake, the male raising a brow as he awaits your answer. “please touch me.” eddie is quick to reward you, plunging two fingers into your awaiting heat.
“see? now you’re learning,” another string of curses leaves his mouth as your walls tighten around his fingers and a high pitched moan falls from yours.
“shit sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight.” he curls the digits up, watching in awe as your back arches off the mattress.
“fuck i need to taste you,” he mumbles more to himself as he lays between your thighs. his tongue darting out, encircling your clit with an urgency you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.
the noises you’re making are music to his ears, and while he’s heard them before— you’ve never sounded quite so needy. pride blossoms in his chest knowing it was because of him, you needed him. he was making you feel this good.
your thighs begin to tremble as he increases the pressure of his tongue, pumping his fingers faster.
“m-more need more.” while eddie wanted to reprimand you for not using your manners, he’s been waiting to have you like this for far too long.
but he’d make sure you didn’t forget next time… if there was a next time. he hoped there would be.
he slips a third finger inside you, the long, thick digits reaching places you never realized existed until now.
and now that you knew what they felt like, your own would never suffice again.
“aww pretty thing, you gonna cum?” he chuckles mockingly as the sound vibrates against your core.
the feeling only aiding in bringing your release that much closer, as your eyes flutter shut. a harsh slap on your thigh has them flying back open, your eyes meeting his as he looks up at you from his position between them.
“eyes on me,” his tone is stern, commanding as his tongue returns to assaulting your swollen bud.
as you start to grind your hips up against his mouth, it pushes his fingers even deeper inside you. hitting that sweet spot that has you crying out a broken, “oh god, please.”
eddie hums against you, increasing the speed of his fingers. “i prefer master… but god has a nice ring to it.” if you weren’t on the brink of an orgasm you might have found that funny, not registering his soft laughter as he sucks harshly on your clit.
the sensation is what finally sends you over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his head and trapping him there.
not that he would ever dare complain.
once you settle back into the mattress is when he pulls away, crawling back up your body towards you. your excitement covers his chin in a light sheen, now tasting yourself as he kisses you with a bruising force.
you reach for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his legs. feeling his cock rubbing against the bare skin of your thigh, and you want nothing more than to feel it hard and heavy on your tongue.
“wanna taste you too eds,” you whine as he trails his lips across your jaw, sucking onto your skin. as much as he would love to have you gagging on his cock, his impatience had reached its peak.
“next time sweetness… need to be inside you.”
you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. the promise of a next time making your heart flutter beneath your ribs.
eddie unwillingly untangles himself from you, now standing at the edge of the bed to remove his sweats. his cock stands at full attention as you sit up, eagerly crawling towards him. your mouth waters at the sight, finally able to admire him how you’ve been dying to for the last few weeks.
you wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft, glancing up at him as you lick up the pre-cum that was smeared across his pink tip. the male grips a fistful of your hair in his hand, tugging you off his dick as a small whimper leaves you.
“hands and knees— now.” he nearly growls at you, releasing you as you continue to look up at him in a daze.
“don’t make me repeat myself baby.”
and as much as you would love to test how far you could push his buttons, that would be saved for a later date. so you do as you’re told, crawling away from him now on your hands and knees.
feeling his eyes trailing over the plush skin of your ass, “take a picture munson, it’ll last longer.”
what you don’t expect is to hear the snap of your polaroid camera, whipping your head around to see the shit eating grin he was sporting. setting the camera and picture down on your dresser once more, “just following orders sweet cheeks.” he chuckles, crawling onto the bed behind you.
eddie lands a firm smack on your ass, his chest now draped across your back. his hot breath fanning over your neck as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “face the mirror, you aren’t gonna wanna miss this baby.”
your thighs clench together, now turning to face the full length mirror that stood across from your bed.
you glance at yourself briefly before your eyes trail upwards, now meeting his in the reflection. a cocky grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, his hands now roaming the full expanse of your ass.
feeling the tip of his cock brush against your core, pushing your hips back so you could feel more. eddie’s calloused hands grip you tightly, stopping any further movement on your part.
“don’t be fucking greedy, you’ll take what i give you.”
you squeak out a small apology, keeping your eyes focused on him as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. gasping once he slowly pushed himself into your awaiting heat, a strangled moan tumbling from his lips.
his eyes squeeze shut as he bottoms out, his balls flush against the curve of your ass. you feel incredibly full, the stretch so divine it makes your head spin.
“eddie please.” you mewl, watching as his brown eyes meet yours.
desperate for him to do something— anything.
eddie’s rings dig into your hips, his eyes glancing down to watch as he slides his cock back out. groaning as you’ve already coated his length in your arousal, a sight he’d only ever seen in his dreams.
“gonna give you everything,” he grunts before slamming himself back inside, knocking the air out of your lungs as you fall forward onto the mattress.
you grip the edge of it for support as he continues to rock his hips into yours, this new angle allowing him to rub against your sweet spot perfectly. keeping your eyes locked on the mirror, the image of him behind you— thrusting into you will be seared in your memory forever.
the black ink swirling on his skin, the light sheen of sweat on his chest. the veins in his forearms that are much more noticeable as he grips you tighter. he looks more like a greek god than anyone had a right to.
your jaw is slack, mouth hanging open as you continue to watch him. the little ‘uh uh uhs’ that leave your lips mix with the sound of your skin slapping together. now filling the quiet space of your bedroom.
“taking me so well— this pussy was made for me.”
eddie moans, completely distracted by the way your pussy flutters around him. the creamy ring that’s formed around the base of his cock expanding with each thrust of his hips.
“look at me,” you whine, that signature smirk returning to his features as he meets your eyes in the mirror once more.
“aww poor little baby,” he coos, slipping his hand between your thighs and landing a harsh slap on your already sensitive bud. “always need my eyes on you… don’t you?”
a string of curses slips past your lips as you nod your head. “need it,” you whimper as his calloused fingertips circle over your clit. “need you.”
your words seem to have quite the effect on him, a low growl leaving him as he fucks into you even harder.
“what do you need me to do, pretty girl? tell me.” it takes you a minute before you can answer him, the male having fucked any coherent thoughts from your head.
“n-need it inside.” is the best you can manage, but eddie understands all too well.
it’s what he had hoped you would say, “yeah, you want me to fuck you so full? ruin this pretty little pussy for anyone else?” your eyes roll back in your head, as the male wraps his other hand around your throat.
he handles you like a rag doll as he pulls you up, your back now flush against his sweaty chest. the action forces his cock even deeper inside you, brushing against your cervix. his hand that was wrapped around your throat is now cradling your jaw, guiding your gaze back to the mirror.
your half lidded eyes watch as he leans forward, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, “this pussy is mine now, got that sweetness?”
it’s suddenly all too much, the rubber band in your middle finally snaps as your body trembles in his embrace. cries of his name and ‘yours yours yours’ tumbling from your mouth.
the brunette watches in amazement as you drench his thighs, your bed sheets— the pressure almost forcing him out completely.
the metalhead curses as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the wet squelching of your pussy finally sending him over the edge. grunting as he pumps you full of his cum, your body falling limp against his chest.
you’re both panting as you come down from your highs. his touch on your hips is much more gentle than before as he coaxes you onto your back.
you hum contently, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion hits you. eddie cradles your face in his palms, pressing soft kisses to each of your eyelids before his touch suddenly disappears.
your eyes fly open in alarm, reaching out for him as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “don’t worry… you aren’t rid of me just yet.”
eddie chuckles as he spreads your thighs apart, his dark eyes watching intently as his cum drips out of you. pooling onto the bed beneath you, making an even bigger mess of your sheets.
his head dips lower, inhaling as he gathers the mixture of both your arousal onto his awaiting tongue. moaning before diving in deeper, “shit, we taste good together.”
“too much,” you whimper, wiggling your hips away from his eager mouth due to the oversensitivity.
eddie presses a kiss to each of your thighs before he joins you once more, collapsing next to you with a boyish grin on his face. you reach out to trace the stubble along his jaw, your fingertips brushing over his plump lips.
you feel him release a shaky breath against your fingertips, the look he’s giving you makes your stomach do a little flip.
“so… is it too late to ask you out on a date?”
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satorhime · 1 year
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. ・。・ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.
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── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ・。・ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;
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satoru is having a damn good day.
it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.
but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.
and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.
the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.
it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.
he would do anything to please his girls, after all.
“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.
“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”
“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”
“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”
“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”
“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”
but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.
“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.
oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.
it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.
“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”
“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.
“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.
“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.
“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.
ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.
whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.
“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”
“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.
“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.
satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.
“what ya got there, princess?”
“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”
“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”
“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”
“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.
“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.
“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”
“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.
“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.
“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.
you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.
“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”
“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.
but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—
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“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.
october 30, 2018
the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.
four, no, five years?
his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.
while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—
“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”
“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.
“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—
“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”
“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.
or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”
he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.
“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”
“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”
“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”
“why? i don’t want to.”
your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.
“huh, that’s new.”
“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”
“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.
“do you need me?”
“what, you think i can’t handle her?”
“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”
he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.
her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.
he has to rip his gaze away.
“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”
“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”
“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”
“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.
you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.
“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”
she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.
“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.
“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”
“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”
satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”
“okinawa.”
“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”
a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.
time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.
you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”
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lucyandalexiafan · 5 months
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Could you write something where Alexia is obsessed with the reader boobs please
Movie night | Alexia Putellas x reader
I wrote this few days ago and I find now the time to post it🫠. I don't know if you wanted a more smut work, but the result was something really fluff and cute; I don't know why but it came out so sweet, even though the initial idea was something more sexual. Maybe it's because of all the tweets and TikToks that make me watch thousand times the interview she did for the top 11 and I keep hearing 'thank you' and 'Are you a Manchester City fan', which make her seem so cute; or maybe because I'm feeling so single ahah.
Anyway, I'm sorry if you wanted something more smut and less cute, and thank you for the request!
Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!
I bite my lip trying to hold back a moan.
Ale's hands on my breasts, her fingers caressing and playing with my nipples.
It had all started very innocently.
Since this morning Ale had been very clingy, very physical.
As soon as the alarm went off she pulled me tighter into her embrace, her hands squeezing my chest, muttering jokingly about how 'I don't love her enough' as I wanted to get up, then kissing my neck just below my hairline every time I stayed a few minutes longer in bed with her.
After almost being arrived late at the training, she tried to be paired with me during both the gym and athletic training, finding every time an excuse to touch me.
Her hands had always been on my thigh, arm or hand at lunch.
It was as if she had an extreme need for physical contact, to touch me, but not necessarily sexually.
On the way home we stopped at the restaurant near our house, my favorite Chinese restaurant, and Ale took there our takeaway dinner that she had ordered while she was waiting for me at the end of the second training session. She composed it with my favorite dishes.
We went into our apartment and had dinner on the sofa laughing in front of a stupid American talk show (even though she seemed to understand one word in ten and only laughed when I laughed).
Once we ended our dinner, Ale asked me to watch a film, one of my favorite dark academia films, and I agreed; so, she helped me to clean the table in front of the sofa and the dishes and we lay down on the sofa.
After a few minutes from the start, she lay between my legs, her head on my chest and her hands at her sides. The position itself wasn't uncomfortable, my back was resting against the couch and my head was on a pillow turned towards the television, my hands caressing her back.
I felt her body relax second by second, the tension from the training slowly flowing out of her body. Every now and then she let out a few moans or gasps, but nothing overly sexual.
About a quarter of the way through the movie, she had moved a little lower, her navel touching my inner thigh, her right temple against my sternum; her hands had started to caress my torso under my shirt, to lightly scratch my hips.
The contact had given me shivers, her cold fingers tracing light circles with her nails.
“I thought you wanted to see the movie amor,” I say, chuckling.
She moans into my chest, her hands gripping the edges of my shirt.
I lift her torso, allowing her to push it over my breasts, braless.
Ale she starts kissing my skin, leaving endless little kisses on my boobs, she draws wet paths that connect one nipple to the other.
Her fingers squeeze my breast in a light grip, playing with my nipples.
"What happened Ale? - she looks at me confused - You are so physical"
"Since when I can be more physical with you? - she asks smiling - I love your boobs so much amor" she says assorted while she squeezes them with her hands.
I gasp, seeking contact with her, and grip her hair between my fingers.
My neck arches back when she bites my right nipple.
She grins against my sternum.
She runs her nipples between her fingers.
"Your boobs are so sensitive - she gasps and then kisses a nipple - That's one of the reasons why I love them… I just need to touch your nipples and you're soaked for me" she whispers absorbedly while she kisses them.
"Only for you, amor - I moan - only for you"
Ale smiles satisfied.
She bends down and kisses a patch of skin just below her nipple. She sucks it, leaving a clear purple mark on me, releasing it with a dull sound.
"When you're really horny you can have an orgasm just by me playing with your nipples - she bites my right one, passing it between her teeth and making me moan- It's never happened to me before, but it's so… so-"
I gasp when her fingers squeeze a nipple tighter, too tight.
My hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, not knowing if I want to stop her or ask her to do it again. Ale bends down to kiss the fingers surrounding her wrist, leaving small sweet kisses on my skin while she whispers to me that she's sorry.
I arch my back towards her asking her to touch me, to keep touching me.
“They're so soft – she whispers as she leaves a hickey on my other tit – and just the right size for my hands.”
I bite her lip looking at her.
She raises an eyebrow.
"Are you saying they are big? - She looks at me confused - Alexia, I've never had a girlfriend with bigger hands and longer fingers than yours"
She opens her mouth wide in offense, her eyebrows raised dangerously, while the sides of her mouth turn up in a smile.
Then, suddenly, she lowers herself towards my breast, biting it.
I groan in surprise.
It's not a painful bite, but it will leave a mark.
She smiles satisfied as she watches it.
"Looking at how you ask me to fuck you with my long fingers I wouldn't say it bothers you" she replies in a mock offended tone.
The tongue touching the edges of the bite.
I turn my head towards the couch, trying to avoid her gaze, my embarrassment clear from the color of my cheeks.
"Ale…" I gasp, not knowing exactly what he wants.
"Keep watching the movie, amor" she tells me, her voice betraying a trace of excitement, before resting her head on my sternum.
Her hand continues to play with my breast, the one towards the television, playing with the nipple, running it between his fingers, pulling it towards her.
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soov · 17 days
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KEEP JAZZ A(LiVE)ㅤ. . .ㅤ﹫ park jongseong ★
꒰ 📒 ꒱ ceo ! jay & fem reader, 1500 words. ㅤg ceo au, strangers to lovers, established relationship, fluff, long fic. ㅤw kissing, mentions of food, suggestive.ㅤlibrary
in which you and jay coincidentally go to the same live jazz restaurant, and end up with your dates being at his house after some of his wooing.
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Jazz and food — is there a greater combination? You liked to believe that there wasn’t, especially after discovering L'Arôme, a restaurant unexpectedly close to your house hidden by a narrow cobblestone path and many vine branches.
L'Arôme was easily one of the most beautiful places you had ever visited. The dim atmosphere and yellowish lamps managed to make the open interior look cozier than it should. The walls were mostly textured with burnished concrete; the plants that grew on the outside of the restaurant, too, covered the inside of it.
The ambiance was jaw-dropping, the food was delicious, and the live jazz music was equally as perfect. Marcus and Thereza, the old, retired couple who played the saxophone and piano out of love for music, had also gotten a special place in your heart.
You started to love the place even more when a certain man began to frequent it every late Friday as you did.
He was exceptionally charming, white shirt neatly rolled up to his elbows, hair combed back, and a Rolex on his wrist. Despite him looking like the embodiment of luxury, what attracted your attention were his courteous interactions with the employees, and the polite small-talk he had with the musicians to compliment them.
“Men like him still exist?” It seemed that even the people who worked there pondered the same thing. At least, that was what your bartender told you.
The raven-haired man left you intrigued for his next visits; even more so when he pulled out a tiny moleskin and pen out of his pocket, jotting down notes whilst carefully listening to the music, and occasionally stealing a bite of his dish.
You didn’t notice how he gazed back at you until he cracked one of his peaceful smiles, making you immediately look back to your glass of wine sheepishly.
He kept exchanging glances and grins with you before he finally came up to you one night.
“Can I sit here? Don’t worry, I’ll pay for my food.” He pointed to the wooden chair in front of you, and you agreed, of course. Why wouldn’t you?
During that dinner, you found out that his name is Park Jongseong, but he prefers going by Jay. He loves traveling and learning about new cultures, cooking, and sometimes composing songs, hence the notebook. He learned that you enjoy fashion and cats. You two discovered that among your many shared tastes, perfumes and scents were your top ones. Ironic, considering the name of the place where you two met.
Jay did not pay his bill that night, by the way, but rather his and yours when you had a quick restroom break. When it was time for you to leave, he ordered you a cab, making sure you were alright before closing its door.
He did that for the next few weeks, and in a specific one, Jay called you asking if the meetup could be an actual date. And again, you agreed. Why wouldn’t you?
So he showed up with a suit of your favorite color. You didn’t remember that well when you told him what it was, but he still remembered it, just like your favorite flowers in the bouquet he held. Even with all his grand gestures, Jongseong was a simple man — just a kiss on his tan cheek before you hopped in the cab made him weak on his knees.
The pattern kept going on up ‘till he asked you to be his girlfriend, and the next dates moved to his million-dollar penthouse. You didn’t get how crazy money he made in his CEO job until he picked you up in his sleek black Porsche and drove you to one of the best neighborhoods in the city. When he already had such manners and looked like a sculpture manually carved by the Greek gods, his money wasn’t that much of a big deal.
And with all that being said, Jay was ten thousand times happier with having your Friday dates in the coziness and intimacy of his home.
“Jay, baby, I wanna help too...” You mumbled with your arms nestled around his waist, chin on his broad back as you watched him set up the final touches to the seasoned meat to get it to the oven.
“You’re helping already with your hugs,” he said back, chuckling when you whined against his cashmere sweater.
“Doesn’t count,” you huffed, “you already had prepared everything before I arrived. You’re no fun.”
He couldn’t help but laugh again, “I didn’t fill our glasses with wine, though. You can help me with that.” Jay suggested, washing his hands off.
With grumbles of defeat, you made your way to his wine wall, picking up an unopened bottle of your favorite. After you began dating him, you had turned into a somewhat wine expert with all the knowledge he shared.
Popping the bottle open, you poured the drink into two burgundy glasses, taking a sip of yours and leaving it near the charcuterie board on the coffee table.
Jay changed the vinyl playing to a copy of Thereza’s and Marcus’ jazz album that he bought from them, one of their original songs playing smoothly in the background. He soon approached you, hand reached out in reverence. “Can I have this dance?”
You beamed and nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing him to encircle your waist. “This is nice.” You commented and he nodded in agreement.
“Really nice.”
His thumbs rubbed your sides while your fingertips ran through his strands, meekly massaging his scalp. Jay melted into you, his cheek resting on your shoulder as if wanting to get even closer during the slow dance.
“You’re gonna suffocate me, Jay,” you choked out with a giggle, and he immediately took a step back, though still leaning on your body.
“Sorry.” He mumbled.
When his apology got dismissed, he tugged you to the living room quickly without even bothering to say a word. You let out a quiet laugh when he sat down and pulled you to his lap.
“What’s up with the commotion?” You prodded at his slightly uncommon clinginess and quietude.
Your boyfriend shrugged, his chin on your chest and an impish smile on his lips as he stared up at you, “Just missed you.” Jongseong explained in a gentle tone.
There were multiple reasons for his homesickness, and one of them was the twelve-day business trip that he had to take to Russia, making your date on the weekend prior get canceled. You didn’t blame him for wanting attention.
“You’re cute when you’re all clingy like that,” pointing out, you made sure to leave a peck on his exposed forehead, nose, and lips.
With an uninterested ‘mhm’, he kept you in place by grasping the back of your head with a firm grip. Jay kissed you slowly — and a tad bit messily — to make good use of the short period he’d have with you until his next business trip. His plush lips didn’t leave yours for a second, occasionally nibbling on them up to when he had to pull away for air.
He leaned back on the couch, trying to create distance between you. However, his eyes never left your face, devouring every curve and contour as if you were the last meal he would ever have. “You’re pretty.”
“You sound like you just started to find me pretty.”
Jay huffed in disbelief at your taunt, a toothy grin and a nose wrinkle appearing, “Take a compliment, will you?”
“Alright. Thanks, then.” You shrugged and turned in his lap to grab your glass of wine by the coffee table. Taking a sip, you hummed at the feeling of Jay’s lazy kisses and pecks along your neck. “Needy, huh?”
“You entertain me.” He muttered back with a gentle bite to your skin, mentally patting himself on the back for the little yelp of surprise you let out.
Park kept pampering you during your small snack break, focused on being as doting as he could only until the oven’s timer ticked. His hand cupped your hips as you left his lap, making sure that you were balanced before letting go of you.
You got the tray out of the oven and carefully rested it on the well-decorated dining table. Your boyfriend approached you, chivalrously taking off the protection glove from your hand and pulling out the chair for you.
And as you both suited yourselves and enjoyed his cooking, you once again realized how much of a good cook Jay was.
“S’too good, Jay,” you mumbled with a finger hooked in front of your lips, munching happily on the absurdly good side dishes he made.
“Thank you, I know it is.” Jay proudly admitted, mostly joking around with you, but happy with the outcome of the plates.
You scoffed with a small grin, “No need to get all cocky now.”
“Maybe there is. I have a feeling my girl likes when I’m cocky.” He quipped back, showing that you really entertained him in his playful moments.
He used the dinner to fill you in the details of his trip that he didn’t say through text, feeling bashful whenever you gasped or quipped with a question.
Eventually, the conversation turned to his guitar, and soon he was strumming his favorite songs on the couch while you relaxed against him.
Seemed like it was about time you added Jay to the top of your ranking.
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⠀ ⠀ SOOV © 2O24
ㅤ𝗿𝗲𝗶’s notes ⪩⪨ for my biggest inspiration ever since animeblr HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAEL!! @boyfhee
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c-nstantine · 8 months
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It's Always The Nice Ones
Kinktober Fic: Clark discovers his girlfriend's tumblr.
Warnings/Kinks: Warnings/Kinks: Stomach Bulge, Spanking, Size Difference, Non consensual Recording (is this a bit self indulgent? yes, yes it is. thank you for noticing!)
Word Count: 1.5k
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Y/N kicked off her shoes as she entered her and her boyfriend's shared loft. It was a little expensive but the two of them made it work. That was Clark. Sweet, wonderful, and understanding Clark. Y/N loved him with all her heart. There wasn't a thing she would change about him. Well, maybe one thing. Don't get her wrong, he would always leave her satisfied but sometimes Y/N would still want more than what he gave her.
"So the Jamaican place was out of what you usually get so I got you what I get. Kinda works out anyway since you love to steal my jerk chicken," She called out to him as she walked into the kitchen. She was expecting to find him lounging on the couch while watching his favorite fall movie. She was pleasantly surprised to see him leaning against the kitchen counter with his glasses sitting on top of his head.
"What's this?" Clark asked, gesturing to Y/N's laptop. Her laptop was open and the current screen was the homepage of Y/N's Tumblr.
"My laptop? Clark, why do you have my laptop?" Y/N was a little scared. Her Tumblr was her sacred place. It's where her thoughts went to live and she didn't have to be as tame as a real person.
"Mine was dead so I thought I'd borrow yours. Could you imagine my surprise when I found out that my sweet girlfriend writes the most obscene 'smut' on the internet," He said smut in quotation marks. His blue eyes were trained on Y/N. Clark was normally a gentle giant with her but as he approached her, his energy was different. For the first time in their relationship, Y/N felt small. Now Clark being a 6'5 alien was a constant reminder in their relationship but he had never done anything that made her feel small and delicate.
"Clark, I can explain. There like fantasies," She said looking up at her boyfriend and placing her bags on the counter. She could feel the heat rise to her brown cheeks and warmth pooled into the bottom of her stomach. This wasn't fear, but rather horniness. 
"I had been gentle with you because I was afraid I might hurt you. Turns out you want to be hurt," Clark leaned down to whisper this in her ear. Y/N's insides practically melted. 
"Baby, I-" Y/N was going to explain herself but Clark interrupted her by placing a finger to her lips.
"Hush now. I want you to go upstairs and strip. You'll have to be punished for deceiving me. Don't worry, I'll go gentle on you the first time," Y/N's heart was racing and Clark could hear it.
"Clark," Y/N tried to justify herself once more. She couldn't find the exact words that she wanted to say. 
"Upstairs," Clark said sternly and he had dropped his smile. He looked serious.
"Okay," Y/N said stepping away from her giant boyfriend. She quickly found their bedroom and stripped out of her clothing for the day. She sat on the bed anxiously. At first, she was scared but then she found herself to be excited at the sound of the heavy footsteps of Clark as he walked up the stairs. Unbeknownst to her, Clark had placed a small camera he had borrowed from Bruce in the bedroom and it was almost impossible for the untrained eye to spot.
"Imagine my surprise when I found out that my sweet girlfriend wants to be fucked like a desperate whore and writing about it online. To think that I've been holding back. Get on your hands and knees," Y/N did as she was told, not wanting to make the situation worse. 
"Let's see. You've deceived me and then tried to cover it up. I think that's worth ten spankings," Clark spoke as he took in the stalk of his girlfriend's body. He looked at every curve, stretchmark, and scar lovingly but once again, Y/N felt small. Clark's cool hands rubbed her ass almost tenderly. 
"Spankings?" Y/N repeated, almost tripping over the word. When she had written it, she had never thought that it was going to happen to her. The idea that it was going to happen to her awoke something in her deeply.
"That's what you wrote about, isn't it? You dreamt of a moment like this," Clark said knowingly. He could always read her like a book to the point that she used to think one of his powers was telepathy. 
"If at any point it's too much, you can tell me and I'll stop okay?" There was a glimpse of the sweet Clark that she knew. 
"Okay," She nodded as she spoke. 
"Great, now count," Once again, his features darkened and it was like a different man was speaking to her. This didn't look like the man who made love but rather a man who fucks. 
"One!" She said after his hand collided with her ass. Clark grinned at the sight of the recoil of her ass. He wasn't using his superstrength, of course, but a small part of him enjoyed these actions. Y/N continued to count, her ass stinging with every spank. She almost gave out from the pain but she stayed strong even as tears began to run down her face. Clark was just hoping that the camera caught this angle. 
"See there's my pretty girl. You feeling okay?" Clark said tilting her jaw up after he had finished. He wiped her tears away with his thumb.
"Mhm," She said as her eyes stopped welling with tears. 
"Look at you. You're dripping just from a spanking. Roll over," Clark began to toy with the folds of her pussy while she was now laying on her back. Y/N spread her legs on instinct and Clark enjoyed the sight.
"So good at taking orders," He remarked as he kneeled between her legs. He pulled her waist to the edge of the bed and used his hands to pin her down. Her size didn't matter because he knew he had the strength to hold her down.
Now, eating Y/N out was one of Clark's favorite pastimes. He could do it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He loved to have her wetness smeared all over his face like it was now. Hearing her moans did something to him but he preferred to listen to her heart rate as she got closer and closer to her peak. His tongue toyed with her clit while his fingers took long strokes in and out of her. 
"Clark, I'm close, please," Clark simply chuckled as Y/N spoke those words. He pulled his mouth away from her and removed his fingers.
"Wait, why'd you stop?" Y/N said a little upset from her ruined orgasm. She was quickly satiated when Clark replaced his fingers with his dick. She didn't even hear him unbuckle his pants. Clark normally liked to take his time with Y/N and allow her to adjust to his length. Hell, he had spent months just training her to be able to take all of it but now all of that was gone at the window as he pounded into her with fullness. 
Y/N thought she was seeing stars as she moaned out from the deep strokes she was receiving. The stinging of her ass couldn't be felt from the pleasure Clark was giving her. The sound of the headboard hitting the wall was the only thing grounding Y/N to reality. She was sure there were dents in the wall but that would be tomorrow's problem. Well, if she could walk, it would be. 
Clark was having the time of his life. He could see the faint outline of his cock from Y/N's stomach and began to move harder. Once the outline was much more prominent and pressed his hand to her stomach. Both of them cried out from the new sensation. Clark's cheeks had turned a bright red and his glasses managed to get across the room. He had regretted not doing this earlier.  
Y/N's pussy began to spasm with Clark's dick still inside and soon after he finished inside of her. His strokes slowed until he fully pulled out of her. Y/N's legs were tingly and her breaths were deep. Clark kissed her cheek and congratulated her for doing so well before disappearing into the bathroom. Y/N almost felt like she had just cosplayed a Twinkie. 
"I'm gonna clean you up and then put this cream on your bum," He said with a warm damp towel in one hand and some sort of numbing cream in the other. 
"Clark, sweetheart, you just fucked the living daylights out of me, you can say ass," She said while he cleaned between her thighs. Her hands found his hair and he simply had a dopey grin on his face. After he was finished, he discretely grabbed the hidden camera and put it somewhere safe for now. Just because he knew Y/N's kinks, didn't mean she needed to know his, not yet, at least. 
Clark gave Y/N one of his T-shirts and brought up the food from earlier. She leaned on his shoulder as the two ate in bed. She wondered what other boundaries she could push Clark to now that he knew her darkest fantasies. 
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lustfulslxt · 4 months
Note
hi yk that one vid of matt where its like boston matt and hes scratching his arm with his phone in his hand... can you make a fic where matt and y/n fuck in the bedroom and then they walk out into the kitchen and they start cooking dinner or something and have y/n make the video
Wind Down - Matt Sturniolo
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warnings : nsfw
--
After a long week of seemingly never-ending work, I am finally able to make my way to my boyfriend's house. He's who I always run to when I have a rough day, so after the treacherous week I had, he's exactly what I need. Since we're both free this weekend, he invited me over for a little relaxing slumber party.
We both just finished school, and since summer started, we have been so busy with working and trying to stack money before moving forward with our careers. Saying that, the last couple of months have been exhausting, neither of us really having a well-deserved and much needed break. So, when he texted me and told me to come over, and that he's got snacks and movies for us, I was beyond ecstatic.
Within ten minutes of leaving my house, I'm pulling up to his. I park beside their minivan and grab my overnight bag, quickly making my way through the back, towards the backdoor. Before I can even open it, it's opened for me, revealing Matthew.
"Hi, princess." He smiles, grabbing my hand and pulling me into him for a kiss.
"Hey, baby." I smile, planting another sweet kiss on his lips.
"Ugh." He groans, pulling me into his arms, squeezing me. "I've missed you."
"I know." I whine, enjoying his warm embrace. "Everything's been so chaotic. I was thrilled when I got your text."
He grabs my bag and ushers me upstairs, following close behind me. "Of course. I knew we both have this weekend off and I just want to spend it with you."
Once we get to the kitchen, I interlock our hands and place my head on his shoulder. He's always been the best boyfriend, and I'm so thankful for him. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, with our hands still connected, and walks us to his bedroom. There, on the bed, are all of our favorite snacks and drinks.
I turn to him with a huge grin, "You're seriously the best. What would I do without you?"
"Simply cease to exist." He jokes, earning a playful shove from me.
We both giggle, me skipping to the bed while he sets my bag aside and gets his TV ready to play a movie. I gather all the snacks up and push them aside, making room for both of us to cuddle.
"Are you hungry?" He asks, joining me on the bed.
I shrug, "Eh, not really. But if you are, we can eat something real quick."
"No, I'm all good. I was just making sure." He replies, getting under the covers with me.
He lies on his back, me curled up at his side with one of my thighs wrapped around him. I place my head on his chest, and watch him flicker through Netflix, looking for a movie to watch. His scent fills my nostrils, making me feel all warm and giddy inside. He always smells so good. I slip my left hand under his shirt, resting it on his abdomen, rubbing soft circles just how he likes.
"God, I've missed you." He mutters, kissing the top of my head and pulling me closer to him.
He sets the remote down on his nightstand table and turns to face me. Closing his eyes, he pulls me flush against him and buries his head in the crook of my neck.
"No movie?" I question, closing my eyes and indulging in the warmth he's providing.
"Not unless you really want to watch something." He says, his eyes fluttering down at me. "I just wanna lay here with you."
I smile and place a kiss on his lips, burying my face in his chest. "That's completely fine by me."
He grins, snuggling impossibly closer to me, both of us finding solace in one another. His hand sneaks up my shirt and rubs my back up and down, the heat of his hand causing goosebumps to spread across my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck and hike my leg up higher, desperate to be as close as possible. Time like these, I just want to live in his skin.
"I love you, Matty." I whisper against his cheek, the side of my face now against his.
"I love you more, pretty girl." He responds, planting his lips on mine.
It was a soft, but meaningful, kiss. His lips always move so tenderly against mine, both of us savoring the feeling it never fails to bring. We pull away, cheeky smiles adorning both of our mouths, before going back in. Our lips blend perfectly, moving together in a delicate and loving manner. My hands tangle in his hair, massaging his scalp the way I know he loves.
He pulls away and looks me in the eyes, quickly putting our mouths back together more desperately than before. His hands continue to roam along my back, my shirt riding up the higher he goes. One of his hands reaches the back of my neck, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues glide over each other with ease before he's exploring my whole mouth with his. After a moment, he pulls away, tugging my bottom lip in the process. It didn't take long for the heat to grow in my core, suddenly needing him in another way rather than just cuddles.
"You're so perfect, baby." He groans against my lips, brushing the hair out of my face.
"Matt." I breathe in a slightly whiny voice.
His eyes stare into mine, and I know he can read it all over my face. I need him so bad. He gently flips me onto my back, hovering over me and putting our lips together again. His hands slip up my shirt once more, softly gripping my waist and caressing my curves. It only takes him a second to decide to remove my shirt altogether. I slightly lean forward, assisting him in removing the piece of clothing. The moment my shirt hits the floor, his is also on the way down.
I pull him back down to me, our lips meeting in a feverish and heated kiss. My hands run up his bare torso, feeling the definition of his body beneath my fingertips. He turns my head to the side a bit, his lips trailing down my cheek and to my neck. He flicks his tongue along the sensitive skin, latching his lips around it. Nibbling and sucking all over, leaving me needy and breathless. He continues working his mouth lower, now peppering open mouthed kissed along my shoulder and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake.
His hands never leave my body once, him straddling one of my legs with his knee pressed directly into my core. The small gesture is enough to have me clenching around nothing, excited to be filled. I can feel his dick growing, the bulge pressing against my inner thigh. I loop my fingers in the waistband of his pants, attempting to tug them down. He reluctantly pulls away from me, leaning back to remove the rest of his clothing. I do the same, both of us tossing them aside with our shirts.
The sight of his erect dick, his tip red and secreting the slightest dribble of precum had my mouth watering. His hands engulf my breasts, kneading them as his mouth takes turn sucking each nipple. The way his hands and mouth work against my skin, and the feeling of his dick brushing against my clit, has me softly moaning beneath him.
"Please, Matt." I moan out, slightly lifting my hips to grind against him.
"I know, baby, I know." He assures, pulling back.
He wraps his hand around his dick, stroking up and down, closing his eyes at the sensation. He leans forward, sliding his member in between my slick folds, coating it with my arousal. He aligns himself with my entrance, slowly pushing in just enough for his tip to be buried in me, before he's pulling back out.
"Don't tease." I whine, my hands clenching the sheets beneath us.
He slightly chuckles, pushing back in, this time all the way. I gasp, feeling the hard muscle deep inside me as he bottoms out. He stills, letting both of us adjust, his teeth biting on his bottom lip from the pleasure. After just a moment, he begins pumping in and out of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, my back arching off the bed. His strokes are slow, but hard, my boobs shaking with every movement.
He reaches forward, gripping plush skin on my chest, pinching the sensitive buds. Soft moans emit from my mouth left and right, my face turning to the side from the overwhelming pleasure. He grasps my jaw, turning my face back to him. He gazes down at me, studying my features, his thrusts gaining power, but keeping the slow pace.
"Always look so fucking pretty under me like this." He groans out, his hair dangling in front of his face.
"Mm, you fuck me so good, baby." I moan out, my nails digging into his bare back.
He smashes his lips onto mine, his hand still gripping my jaw as he fucks into me. He kisses me so deeply that it leaves me breathless. I'm on cloud nine. I can feel every vein that runs along his cock as he slowly pumps his member in and out of me, hitting my g-spot over and over again. The lewd sounds of my arousal and our skin slapping rings through the air, making this moment all the more delicious.
"Your pussy feels so good wrapped around me. So tight and wet." He moans, his thrusts becoming slightly sloppier. "Whose is it?"
I can't comprehend anything, my mind hazy with pleasure. Pornographic moans fall from my mouth, repeatedly. I can feel my orgasm sneaking up on me, causing me to clench around his dick.
"I asked you a question." He growls, his hand on my jaw turning me to look at him. "Whose pussy is this?"
"F-fuck." I whine out, "Yours. It's yours, Matt. All yours."
"Oh fuck-" He moans into my neck, his breath heavy. "You're goddamn right it is. All mine."
His thrusts speed up, him chasing our highs. My thighs clench around his waist and I can feel him throbbing inside of me. His tongue dances along the sweaty skin of my neck, teasing the sensitive bit. His panting and moaning in my ear, along with his deep strokes, push me over the edge. My legs begin to tremble, my head thrown back, nails digging into his back muscles. With a loud moan, I'm releasing onto his cock.
"Such a good girl, baby." He moans, his thrusts now completely abandoning their previous rhythm.
With just a few more pumps, his hips are sputtering and he's emptying his seed into me with a loud groan. He continues slowly fucking into me, riding both of our highs out, before he comes to a halt. He gently pulls out of me, collapsing on the bed beside me. Both of us have erratic breaths, our cheeks flushed a rosy, pink color. Our skin is slick with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead, mine stuck to my neck.
"That was, wow." He pants.
"Matt." I breathe, causing him to look over at me. "I'm hungry now."
He bursts into laughter, making me join him. He leans over and places a sweet kiss on my cheek before getting up, grabbing my hand and helping me to stand.
"Let's get dressed. We can make something to eat, then shower and actually watch a movie this time." He suggests.
I nod in agreement, quickly dressing myself as he does the same. Combing my hair out with my fingers, I follow him out into the kitchen. He rounds the counter and opens the fridge, browsing for something to eat.
"Hey, do you wanna make a pizza?" He asks, looking back at me with raised eyebrows.
"Ooo, yes!" I cheese, "I'm just gonna go pee real quick. Get everything out and we can start when I get back."
He nods and does so as I make my way to the bathroom. I quickly go pee and wash my hands, heading back out to start out food. On the counter lays a baking sheet and a Totino's frozen pizza. I laugh upon seeing it.
"I figured we could just make this, since it's late and I know we're both tired. But if you don't want to, we can make a homemade one. It's up to you, princess."
I smile at him, "This is perfectly fine."
He smiles back and goes to preheat the oven. I take the frozen pizza out of the wrapper and place it on the baking sheet, then sit down on one of the bar stools while waiting for the oven to reach temperature. Matt comes and sits beside me, pulling his phone out to keep him occupied.
He looks so cute and so handsome. His hair falling over his face so delicately, his lips so pretty and pink. I pull my phone out, opening snapchat and start recording him. He doesn't have to do much of anything at all to make my heart flutter. He reaches back and scratches his back, suddenly catching my eye and seeing me record him. He flashes me a smile as I grin at him.
"You're so handsome, baby." I tell him, ending the video.
"Thank you, princess." He says, pecking my lips.
Once the oven preheats, we place the pizza in and set a timer for when it should be done. After it finishes, we run to his room with a plate and get in bed, eager to eat and watch a movie. This is exactly what I needed after the week I had. Matthew never fails to make me forget about everything else, instead, showing me a good time and making loving memories that I'll cherish forever.
--
a/n : hii, this was kinda just short and sweet! i hope it was still enjoyable! and sooo sorry for the wait, still tryna get back into my grove :))) love uuu x
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4sturns · 6 months
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BREAK THE INTERNET
camboy!chris s. x fem!viewer!reader
genre: smut
synopsis: being chris' top tipper and most loyal viewer, you're gifted with a private one on one cyber call with your favorite camboy.
warnings: cyber sex, sub!chris (reader tells him what to do), whining and whimpering, use of vibrator, praise kink (4sturns knows what praise is ????? woah ...), orgasm denial, use of petnames (mamas, baby, etc.), not proofread!
wc: 1.822
a/n: sat there thinking about how kinky i am compared to others in the fandom and suddenly had the great idea of writing for camboy!chris because god he'd be such a pretty camboy .. thank you for 500 followers too this is for you guys ❤️‍🩹 also brace yourselves because this is probably the longest fic i have ever written in all my years of writing
you're sat at your desk, your laptop propped up at an angle which conceals your face, but shows off your breasts which are clad in a red lacy bra.
there's music playing lowly on a speaker somewhere on the other side of the room, something you put on to calm down your nerves.
you bounce your leg, waiting anxiously as you wait for chris' call notification to pop up on your screen.
you've been a viewer of chris' for a while. he was the first camboy you'd ever encountered and he was certainly your favorite. something about him and how he always gives in to his tippers made you cash in on his streams. he was just so good, so obedient, and so pretty.
unbeknownst to you, you had somehow became his top tipper in the span of a couple months. what you expected to be a cumulative amount of fifty dollars, maybe sixty, turned out to be close to ten times the price you assumed you had tipped him.
even with the initial shock, you still couldn't blame yourself for giving him so much money. he was just so good for you, giving you exactly what you wanted and asked of him every single time.
a sudden and loud tone rings from your laptop speakers making you jump from the unexpected noise. the screen flashes with chris' name and his provocative profile picture, your heart rate picking up at the sight. a shaky hand reaches up to the track pad to accept the call, not before a nervous breath leaves your body.
the call zooms in to show you a full view of chris' camera. his face is out of view, similar to you, but he's sporting a white tank top and plaid pajama pants in comparison to your red bra and black silk shorts.
through your little square screen in the corner, you can visibly see your chest heaving. your mouth feels dry, heart pounding uncontrollably. normally you'd feel fine, but that was when it was chris talking to his entire audience, not just you individually.
"hey mamas," chris greets you, he sounds just as breathless as you. "god, you look so good in that set."
you crack a faint smile although he can't see it. a hand goes up to play with the necklace around your neck, relieving some tension as you work up a response.
"not too bad yourself, chris." you can see him shift around, a muffled moan piercing through your speakers gains your attention.
"already worked up? is it because of my boobs on your screen or because you like my voice a little too much, baby?" you're almost shocked at your own words, you were just shaking a moment ago and now you're taunting the very guy you'd get off to almost nightly for the past three months.
"fuck, if you don't stop teasing me i might just cum in my pants." chris moves his camera back to reveal his face. you're stunned for a second, taking in his beauty. it's not the first time you've seen his face, but you swear he gets prettier every day.
based on chris' chuckle, you're sure he saw the way your chest spiked up with the silent gasp you let out when he showed his face.
"tell me what to do, mamas. you're in control of me tonight." his words are spoken quietly, but god do they do a number on you.
"can you— can you touch yourself, for me?" you stutter slightly. you're so used to giving him commands through his chat that giving him a verbal command one on one makes you lightheaded.
without a word, chris' hand inches towards the bulge in his pants. he starts palming himself through his pants as small whimpers leave his mouth. you're sitting back in your chair, your face from the nose down is now visible on the screen. your eyes are fixed to the screen as your entire body starts to heat up.
"can i take off my shirt? please, ma." he's still palming himself, but he stares right into the camera. you can't bring yourself to speak, so you nod your head, praying he gets the memo despite how little of your face is actually showing.
thankfully he does, his free hand gripping the bottom of his top before swiftly removing the garment. his soft, long hair bounces back into place, covering part of his eyes in a way that makes him look like an angel. a sinful angel.
suddenly, chris stops palming himself, his hand going to dip past the waistband of his pants. he quickly whips out his dick before hissing at the cold air which hits his tip.
you're in awe, no matter how many times you've seen his dick before, it'll never quite compare to how good it looks in this moment. but once the feeling subsides, you quickly remember something.
"i never told you you could take your dick out of your pants, did i?" you're now leaning forward, as if challenging chris through the screen. there's no battle however, as panic quickly flashes through chris' features.
his mouth springs open as floods of apologies and excuses leave his mouth, although you're not quite picking up what he's saying. your eyes are piercing your laptop screen as you notice his tip leaking a clear liquid. you watch as his entire cock twitches when you let out a low chuckle.
"i'm sorry, please, i'm a good boy! i swear i'm a good boy." chris pleads with you, causing a wave of heat to overtake your body. you say nothing as he continues to ramble. but you know you can't keep him waiting, you'd be torturing yourself more than him.
"show me how good you are and stroke yourself for me, hmm?" chris complies almost instantly, his head nodding frantically as he wraps a hand around his hard cock. whimpers and high pitched whines fill up your speakers as you instruct him to stroke himself faster. but just that isn't enough for you.
"can you do something for me, baby?" chris' eyes open, an eager smile crosses his face as he momentarily pauses his movements.
"anything for you, mamas." his hair flops around as he nods his head.
"grab that little black vibrator, the one you know i like." you remember the first time you stumbled onto chris' live broadcast. you remember how tightly he was gripping the base of his cock as he held a vibrator right under his angry, red tip. you remember how loud his whimpers were, how much he was begging for release. the image of his cum painting his stomach white as the buzzing continues in the back is something that will never fail to make you moan.
chris comes back into frame holding the toy, a devious smile makes it way onto your face. it's caught on your camera and you can tell chris knows your intentions aren't pure from the way he visibly gulps. regardless, he sits back down infront of his screen before positioning himself to face you again.
"use it on yourself, the same way you always do." the words leave your mouth sounding more like a command than you'd like, although it really is a command.
chris takes your words seriously as he quickly fumbled with the buttons on the little toy to turn it on. a breathy moan leaves his mouth as he finally lowers it down to circle around his tip. the sight is breathtaking. chris' head tipped back as his hand grips at the base of his cock so tightly you're surprised it's not turning a shade of purple. the vibrator soon finds home right under his tip, buzzing away at his sweet spot.
you bite your bottom lip to conceal your moans, a hand sneakily sliding into your silk bottoms as you feel your soaked folds. your fingers move quickly to collect your arousal before dipping into your throbbing cunt. a whine escapes your lips right as chris lets out a rather loud groan.
you know he's close, but you can't let him go yet. not before you do.
"you're such a good boy for me, so good." you lean back in your chair, propping a leg up on the table to get a better angle, maximizing your own pleasure.
chris' eyes flicker open to take a quick peak at his laptop screen. he nearly cums at the sight. your face is now fully in frame, except it's twisted in pleasure. your fingers moved fast, plunging in and out of your soaked cunt as strings of profanity leave your puffy lips. he thought your voice was pretty, but he never expected the voice to belong to a goddess like you.
"fuck, ma. i'm so close," your eyes open to watch chris' face as he turns the intensity of the vibrator up a level. his eyes are shut tight, but you can still see the tears pricking at his eyes as the pleasure builds up.
"hold it for me, baby. be my good boy and wait for me." an anguished cry leaves chris' throat, though he obeys you and holds himself back from his release.
on your end, you're working hard to reach your own release. you've long discarded your bottoms, having thrown them to the floor somewhere behind you. one hand works diligently to draw circles on your clit, while the other drills into your pussy relentlessly.
"i can't, please i need to come so badly. i've been a good boy, right? please, mamas. i need it." chris is in tears by now, the muscles in his stomach flexing with how much force he has put in so far to control himself for you.
you can feel yourself approaching your own climax, strained moans are pulled from your body as you find the energy in you to speak.
"go ahead, baby. paint your stomach white for me like the good boy you are." through your laptop speakers, you can hear chris' loud pants and whimpers as his orgasm washes over him, a cry of your name leaving his lips in such an erotic moan that you're sent over the edge.
your legs tremble and shake as you let your orgasm rip through your body. your body feels like it's on fire, little surges of electricity rage through your body even after the buzz of your orgasm fades.
you peer over at your laptop screen to see chris has discarded the vibrator, though his hand is still working to give his dick a few final strokes before going limp. his stomach is coated in thick ropes of cum, his skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat.
"did i do good for you, mamas?" chris asks, his voice barely above a whisper, clearly spent from all his whining.
"you did so good for me, such a good boy. you're my baby boy."
581 notes · View notes
gffa · 4 months
Text
I've been a little slow on getting out new STAR WARS fic recs out, but in my defense it's because I've been reading a bunch of longer fics lately. In the spirit of "there's a special feeling to those fics that consume you and make you stay up until 3am because you can't put them down", here's a list of some of the ones I've loved or am in the middle of reading and they are haunting my thoughts and I need to inflict that on everyone else. Whether you're looking at a long upcoming trip and need some good reading material or avoiding your feelings by sinking into fic or just because you like reading, I hope you'll find something here! Including a bonus underrunning theme of throwing in a bunch of Jedi-loving fic to continue my agenda of making Jedi-centric fandom a more fun place to be. 30k+ is the minimum and this isn't all of my favorites, but it's a great list of "I have a week off to kill and I want to be in a fic coma by the end of it".
STAR WARS FIC FOR WHEN YOU NEED TO KILL ABOUT TEN HOURS WORTH OF TIME AND WANT TO HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT FICTIONAL PSYCHIC SPACE WIZARDS WHILE YOU'RE AT IT:
✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, mace & ahsoka & plo & shaak & cast, 312.5k     In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know. ✦ Reprise by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & mace & yoda & anakin & cast, time travel, 558.9k wip     Ben Kenobi dies aboard the Death Star in the year 0 BBY. He wakes up shortly thereafter in the Jedi temple in the year 41 BBY. Haunted by memories and regret, Ben must forge a new path for himself in the Jedi Order of his youth while navigating the murky waters of time travel. Crafting a better future from bitter experience is hard, but learning to heal is even harder. ✦ Take it from the top and try again by mauvera, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & padme & mace & shmi & dooku & cast, time travel, 112k wip     Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. Should be relatively easy. Right? ✦ Post Order 66 Exile AU by Livsy, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 46k     Alternatively: after a failed order 66, in which many Jedi still died but the Sith were defeated, an exiled warrior and a boy wander a distant planet and attempt to get along. ✦ Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, obi-wan & anakin & jedi & cast, 51.3k     Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith. ✦ Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi by stonefreeak, obi-wan & anakin & padme & yoda & palpatine & bail & dooku & mace & quinlan & vokara & ahsoka & cast, 124.5k wip     By an old Republic law, all members of the Jedi High Council are senators in the Galactic Senate, and can thus be voted in as chancellor. A Senator from a less prominent planet has had enough of Chancellor Palpatine's incompetence and calls for a Vote of No-Confidence and the installation of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi as Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. This one action becomes the catalyst that changes the direction of the galaxy. ✦ What We've Become by Vinyarie, vader & ahsoka & cast, 82k     Darth Vader and Ahsoka’s fight on Malachor takes a different path, and Ahsoka actually is able to save her master. Or rather, she’s able to convince him to save himself. Diverges from canon in the last few minutes of Twilight of the Apprentice and goes increasingly AU from there.
✦ time to change the road you're on by wreckageofstars, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & han & ghost crew & cast, time travel, 93.6k wip     The end of the Clone War is near - the fall of the Republic even nearer. Anakin Skywalker, caught up in the events that lead to the rise of the Empire and the loss of everything he holds dear, finds himself sent nearly two decades into the future. Ahsoka Tano, still coming to painful terms with the true fate of her former master, is - not exactly happy to see him. But the Force works in mysterious ways - and the future is not nearly as set in stone as they've been lead to believe. Multi-chapter AU, Rise of the Empire/Rebels-era. ✦ narrower than a razor's edge by bereft_of_frogs, obi-wan & dooku & qui-gon & anakin & sidious & cast, 30.2k     Dooku tips his hand ten years earlier because he can't stand the thought of his former apprentice's murder, and that might just be enough to save everyone...if it doesn't get them all killed first. ✦ soften every edge by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & ahsoka (& anakin), major character death, 48.1k     "Rejoice!" the galaxy says, in the wake of war and the dawning of peace. "How?" Obi-Wan asks. "No," Ahsoka says. (or: Obi-Wan & Ahsoka learn to live on.) ✦ hunting toward heartstill by blackkat, mace/cody & plo & fives & shaak & obi-wan & anakin & rex & cast, 207.2k     Plo has an idea. Mace agrees, and everything snowballs right into hell from there. (Or: Mace and Cody get married in order to give the clones citizen status. Before they can focus on that, though, they're going to have to deal with ancient Sith artifacts, evil prophets, plots to overthrow the Supreme Chancellor, lost planets, monsters warped by Sith alchemy, inconvenient , and Darth Sidious turning his eye on a potential new apprentice. Just...not in that order.) ✦ Cataclasm by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & cast, 63.1k wip     For reasons unknown to all but himself, Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order in the midst of the Clone Wars, taking with him a single clone. Anakin Skywalker has been unofficially tasked by the Order to find Obi-Wan and bring him home. Unfortunately for Anakin, it seems his former master is always ten steps ahead of him. ✦ Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) by Rhiw, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & feemor & bruck & jango & cast, time travel, 135.1k wip     The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth. As he struggles to understand the path laid out before him, Obi-Wan unwittingly captures the attention of a singularly unusual Temple Guard, and that of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn.
✦ Knightrise by deviantaccumulation, obi-wan & ahsoka & satine & yoda & cast, 89.4k wip     There is no battle on Mustafar or in Coruscant's senate building. Instead, a small but still alive Jedi Order rises from its ashes on Mandalore. ✦ Fire and Ice by Yesac, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 111.9k     Anakin wins the duel on Mustafar, but doesn't kill Obi-Wan. Along with Padme, Obi-Wan finds himself living in a chaotic world where the man he thought he knew has become the thing he swore to destroy. Can Anakin be turned back? If so, what then? ✦ Better That a Millstone by Icarus_is_flying, obi-wan & luke & anakin & leia & cast, 86.7k     Vader discovers Luke and Obi-Wan on Tatooine when Luke is one year old and attempts to reclaim the family he threw away. Obi-Wan is less than pleased, and Luke and Leia? They have their own ideas about how their future should play out. ✦ Bloodlines by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, 35.8k     When an explosion traps them in the same doomed escape pod, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Dooku are stranded together on Tatooine. The goal is simple: cooperate long enough to survive, and not a second longer. But a shared past has a way of connecting the people we think we know—and bloodlines run deep. [or: your classic family road trip across a desert planet, except your grandpa is, you know, a Sith Lord. And now he's sort of starting to bond with your Jedi dad. And that might be an issue.] ✦ When Darkness Seems to Hide This Place by IllyanaA, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 136k wip     After killing three of the Jedi Order's best and brightest, Palpatine's fight with Jedi Master Mace Windu goes shorter than expected. Afraid he's lost his chance at recruiting a new apprentice, Sidious unleashes Order 66 across the galaxy, but, per their programming, the Clone Army is not to harm Anakin Skywalker. After witnessing the most painful loss he's ever experienced and injured at the hands of his captors, Anakin is ready to die like the rest of the Jedi, though not before getting his vengeance. ✦ Precipice by shadowsong26, obi-wan & anakin & padme & luke & leia & bail & ahsoka & rex & cast, 253.6k     An AU in which Anakin Skywalker does not follow Mace Windu and the others to Palpatine’s office after they leave to arrest the Chancellor. As a result, he doesn’t get that final push over the edge, and doesn’t Fall. ✦ Averting Galactic Destruction by kj_feybarn, obi-wan & anakin & quinlan & rex & cody & fives & dogma & wolffe & plo & shaak & dooku & sidious, time travel, 44.3k     AKA The Time the Force Sent Obi-Wan Back in Time and Quinlan Vos kept him from Going Kamikaze because let’s be Honest, Being Forced to Come Back in Time Would Suck.
✦ Into the Archives by skygawker, obi-wan & anakin/padme & palpatine & cast, 104.9k wip     After hearing the legend of Darth Plagueis the Wise from Palpatine, Anakin decides that his best chance to save Padme is to break into the restricted Holocron Vault of the Temple Archives to search for information about Plagueis. Predictably, all does not go according to plan. Revenge of the Sith AU. ✦ Live To Fight Another Day by raemanzu, spica_tea, cody & rex & jesse & kix & obi-wan & anakin & fox & cast, 396.9k wip     Clones have their place in the universe, beyond the schemes of Palpatine. Events conspire to place Rex on the path of a new fate, one which will affect the future in ways not even the Jedi could foresee. Loyal to source material and characterizations. Canon-divergent. Starts between seasons 5 and 6 of TCW and explores Rex’s reaction to Fives’ dying words and subsequent events building toward Order 66. Variety of canon characters. No ships. Very Ace and Aro. Strong focus on certain friendships (Rex and Cody, Jesse and Kix, etc) with those friendships playing major roles. Thematically about how the clones navigate loss, trauma, the concept of their enslavement, their identities, etc amongst the larger active plot threads. Content warnings for war-related PTSD, trauma, combat injuries, and all around war-related angst etc in later chapters. ✦ Life and What Comes After by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & cast, 177.2k wip     Obi-Wan dies on Jabiim. Anakin blames himself, doesn't know how to go on and yet - he does. Maybe the Force rewards that kind of thing, or maybe he just gets lucky, but when a mission lands Anakin on a vaguely familiar planet, he gets a second chance to do what he knows he should have done in the first place: save his master. (And maybe a chance to save the galaxy, too.) ✦ Knight-Errant by zinjadu, anakin & ahsoka & obi-wan & padme & rex & jedi & clones, 315.8k     AU - The Jedi Who Knew Too Much. Rex decides to stay "in pursuit" of his Commander; he jumps. Now, with backup, Ahsoka navigates the lower levels and deals with Ventress. Meanwhile, Anakin takes the Order to task, finds a little more support, and things turn out a little differently for everyone. And this is just the beginning. ✦ the massive machinery of hope by Killbothtwins, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & shmi & jedi, time travel, 150.1k     After the end of the war with the Empire, Obi-Wan wakes up in his twelve-year old body. Now all he needs to do is convince everyone he's psychic, trick his Master into taking him on before he's sent to Bandomeer, redeem a few bad guys, and try not to have a nervous breakdown. Pretty easy. It's not like the Sith are lurking on the horizon, waiting to devour the Jedi Order.
✦ The Exchange by MissLearn, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ahsoka & padme & cast, time travel/body swap, 120k     The Daughter has a bad day and it irrevocably changes the fate of the galaxy, twice over. Or; ROTS Obi-Wan and Anakin are swapped with their younger, TPM, selves. It changes things, in both parallels. ✦ In All The World by Kjellarnen, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 144.8k wip     The story of how Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi tamed each other, from Naboo to Anakin's early days at the Temple. ✦ In Another Life by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme, time travel, 52.3k     Eleven years after the rise of the Empire, a favor to a friend sends Obi-Wan traveling through the multiverse. He encounters different versions of the galaxy and of himself—including one in which Anakin never turned to the dark side. Obi-Wan and this Light Anakin are forced to work together to stop the creation of a disastrous Empire weapon. But as they move through different versions of reality, the timelines become more and more twisted—and the harder it is to distinguish who they are from who they might have been. And—to find their way home. ✦ The Intruder by Hollyoakhill, obi-wan & original clone characters, 82.5k     When a vicious attack from a strange, indestructible monster traps them on a derelict star destroyer, a young clone trooper fresh from Kamino join forces with Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi to find a way to escape. ✦ Conceal Me What I Am by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & yoda & mace & palpatine & quinlan & cast, omegaverse, NSFW, 108.3k     Separatist Propaganda is turning the Republic against the Jedi Order and the Senate sees no choice but to join in a political alliance to fight dissent on a unified front.An alliance is proposed through an arranged marriage,between a Jedi Knight and Republic Senator. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi are chosen as representatives of the political union by Darth Sidious, meant to bring ruin to the marriage and the public's support of the Jedi,for Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the Beta he claims. But even Sidious does not know of the secret Anakin Skywalker keeps, that he is not the Alpha the galaxy believes him to be. ✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 95.9k     During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone.
✦ Invictus by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 40.3k     "He is the balance, the other half, the completion to Skywalker’s soul, a perfect dyad in the force. But while Kenobi is a simple answer, the force also sees the difficulty of the pair coming together in balance. The foundations of the galaxy they exist in pull at them, threatening to intervene in their unity. But this is also a simple problem, for the force is far greater than the foundations of a single galaxy, for it is the foundation of all. So the force enacts its will, to bridge the pair over a span of moments, of years, of eternities, and Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi will fall in love, have fallen in love, and are falling in love." ✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121.2k wip     In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Lex Talionis by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & dooku & rex & cast, NSFW, 187.1k     The ancient Galactic Republic is dying slowly—an ugly death of corruption, sprawl, and decay—with the sin of slavery hanging over its every triumph. The beleaguered Jedi Knights are too few to adequately patrol and police the entire Republic, and are faced with complacency and greed at every turn. Born into a crumbling and stagnant galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are faced with the greatest challenge of all: themselves. Obi-Wan likes rules and control. When the galaxy around him stops playing by the rules, what is a Jedi to do? Anakin needs rules and restraint. When the galaxy around him conspires to set him loose, what is his Master to do? Falling slowly or falling fast, falling through lust or falling through wrath—it all leads to delusion and moral decay. What can be born from the ashes? ✦ Atlas of Our Ruin by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 230.8k     Both the past and the future casts long shadows. Obi-Wan and Anakin learn that the hard way, when a mysterious holocron flings them backwards and forwards in time, forcing them to confront painful truths. But the time-travel is only the beginning… ✦ Seed by bell (belldreams), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 44k     When Anakin falls prey to a lethal poison, Obi-Wan has no choice but use all his resources to heal him-- no matter how reluctant he is in administering the antidote.
✦ wicked thing by imaginarykat, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, nsfw, sith!obi-wan, 124.2k wip     There are rumours of yet another Sith Lord hiding among the Separatists. The Council sends Anakin to investigate. Anakin has a bad feeling about this. or, the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Obi-Wan is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess. ✦ Rulebreaker/Wildheart by chapstickaddict, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & barriss & cast, NSFW, 230k     Darth Vader, the strong arm of the Sith, held loyal to his Order since they took he and his mother from slavery in the deserts of Tatooine. Until he became convinced they killed his wife. He abandoned his Order and disappeared in the chaos of the Clone Wars, presumed dead by all sides. That young Skywalker is known around town as a widower and homesteader; a Nabooian who emigrated to avoid the trade blockade; a father of overly-energetic twins and warding a Togruta war orphan; a decent mechanic if your farm equipment or maintenance droid is acting up. Anakin is a paranoid, over-protective hot mess doing his best to raise his weird pack the way Padmé would have wanted. How the hell is he supposed to do that when his kids and not-apprentice make him haul a half-dead Jedi Master home like a lost pet? ✦ more than a candle by jenmishe, obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, 50.3k     "The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars." Or, a few thousands of words of how Anakin, Obi Wan, and Padmé realize many things, which include, most notably, how they feel about each other and how to handle said feelings. Oh, and in the meantime, they deal with a megalomaniac Sith Lord. ✦ Anamorphosis by avocadomoon, obi-wan/padme & anakin & mace & corde & qui-gon & cast, 33.5k     noun, plural an·a·mor·pho·ses [an-uh-mawr-fuh-seez, -mawr-foh-seez]. A distorted or monstrous projection or representation of an image on a plane or curved surface, which, when viewed from a certain point, or as reflected from a curved mirror or through a polyhedron, appears regular and in proportion; a deformation of an image.
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roosterforme · 7 months
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The Adventures of Dr. Tits | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: Jake gives you the world's most obnoxious nickname. Bradley has an identity crisis. And you're the one making sure everybody gets home safely on New Year's Eve.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, suggestive language, drinking, beer pong
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist for the reading order
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Bradley walked into the bedroom and froze as you were putting on your favorite pair of earrings. "What's wrong?" you asked, shaking your head at him. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"You look fucking hot."
"Oh," you said with a smirk.
"This is a new dress," he rasped, running his fingers along the black fabric at your shoulder. "I really like it."
You kissed his cheek and whispered. "I knew you would, Beer Boy. It has a very low neckline."
He scoffed, "That's not the only reason I like it." But his eyes hadn't strayed from your chest for nearly thirty seconds. When his gaze finally met yours, he added, "My wife looks beautiful in everything."
"We're not married yet," you reminded him as his hand skimmed down your arm to your left hand and your engagement ring. 
"Only because you didn't want to get married the day after I proposed."
"We were standing in a Denny's parking lot!"
He just shrugged and laced his fingers with yours. "Sounds perfect to me. As long as it's us."
"A Denny's parking lot," you emphasized, and you could tell he was trying not to smile at your look of indignation.
"Nothing's too good for my girl," he replied, barely concealing his laughter. 
"Incredible," you muttered as you tugged him closer for another kiss. "You can take the Beer Boy out of the fraternity..."
He followed along, fingers linked with yours, as you led him into the dining room so you could finish setting up. "Wait, wait, it's like mistletoe. We have to kiss when we stand here," he said, leaning down to kiss you hard and proper in front of the doors that said SUGAR WILL YOU MARRY ME?
"Like mistletoe? I can't believe how sweet you are," you whispered as his lips trailed down to your neck.
"Let's call everyone and cancel." His tone was coaxing and his lips felt amazing.
"No," you moaned softly. "It's your Top Gun holiday party. And it's New Year's Eve."
When his mustache grazed the top of your chest as he said, "I'd rather tell everyone else to beat it so I can fuck my fiancée," you almost caved. But you promised everyone months ago, when you first moved to San Diego, that you and Bradley would host the annual party. There was a running joke that they got so wild one year, they almost got kicked out of a restaurant. But there was no way that was true. 
"We have to host. I promised."
"This better be low key. Seriously, I just want a nice, quiet night in," he grumbled.
You laughed while he acted like he was being tortured as he helped you carry the pretty punch bowl and crystal glasses you found at a thrift store into the dining room. "Everyone will be gone right after the stroke of midnight," you promised him. "And I thought you liked your coworkers?" 
He grunted and shrugged. "No, I like Nat. Bob's okay. Jake's annoying. The rest of the guys are fine."
"Oh my god," you whispered in awe, wrapping him up in a hug. "You love me the most, and I'm the only person you're not cranky for, Beer Boy." 
He chuckled and pressed his lips to your temple. "You're just catching onto this now? Ten years away from you has made it so that I want to be with you all the time."
Okay, well now you were thinking about canceling after all. If he was going to be extra sweet like this, you wanted him all to yourself as well. But then you heard someone knocking on the front door. Before you let Bradley go, you said, "If you're well behaved tonight, we can talk about wedding plans tomorrow."
He perked right up. "I'll be so good."
"But it's still a firm no to the Denny's parking lot." 
When you let Nat inside, she gave you a hug and said, "Hey, nice tits," before carrying a bottle of champagne to Bradley. At least now he had his friend to talk to. And you really didn't think your dress was that low cut...
After another knock, you let Bob in, and as soon as he looked at you, he was blushing profusely and stuttering. "Welcome, Bob," you said, really starting to regret wearing this dress in front of anyone except Bradley. When you leaned out onto the porth, the neighborhood was all lit up with twinkle lights. This was your first December outside of Virginia or Chicago, and it was still fairly warm outside. As you propped the door open for the others, you didn't think you'd ever get used to this kind of luxury. You had warm weather and the love of your life.
Soon Javy, Mickey and Reuben arrived with three identical smiles as they looked at you and gave you lingering hugs. "Okay, yep, that's enough," you said as Mickey squeezed you extra tight.
"Hey, Baby! Sugar!" Bradley was calling from the kitchen as you followed the guys in. "Oh, there you are. Do we have any solo cups and ping pong balls? And didn't I buy a case of PBR?"
You just looked at him like he'd lost it. It was New Year's Eve, and you were in your new dress. You even made sure he actually looked nice tonight instead of wearing one of his ratty old tee shirts. You had champagne, and he made crab dip and mini quiches to serve everyone. 
"Maybe in the hall closet? And I'm pretty sure I talked you out of the case of Pabst Blue Ribbon," you said with a frown. "That's cheap fraternity beer, Bradley. We have actual incomes now. Only good beers all the time."
"That's okay," he told you with a quick kiss as he headed for the hall closet. "We can just play with the champagne!"
"What?" you asked, ready to follow him, but the guys had turned up the music. When you looked in the dining room Nat was moving your punch bowl to the floor in the corner, and Reuben was carrying four glasses precariously stacked up in each hand. "What's going on?"
"Rooster said he's a beer pong master," Javy said, before shoving three mini quiches into his mouth at one time. 
Reuben was laughing. "He said he used to party at his fraternity house, but we don't believe him. Not Rooster."
"No," Mickey added. "Rooster always follows the rules. Never breaks them. And he never gets drunk."
"We're playing fucking pong," Bradley said when he returned wearing a backwards cap and holding red solo cups and a pack of ping pong balls. Everyone cheered. "They don't believe I'm a ringer, Sugar," he whispered just to you. "I'm about to fucking smoke their asses."
"Don't get too drunk," you said as Nat took the solo cups and squatted down to fill them using the punch you made with extremely expensive champagne. "Oh god."
"Happy New Year," drawled a voice behind you, and you spun to see Jake holding two more bottles of champagne. His gaze dipped quickly down to your cleavage before returning innocently to your face. He shook his head and said, "You know, sometimes I think Bradshaw might be onto something here."
"I'm never wearing this dress again," you muttered as he handed you both bottles with a huge grin on his face. 
"Now where's everyone else?"
Just then, loud cheering erupted from the dining room, and you walked through the doorway to find Bradley and Javy playing against Bob and Mickey. Nat changed your playlist to one that sounded like it belonged at an actual frat party, and Reuben was scooping one of your crystal glasses into the crab dip and eating it with a spoon. 
"What the fuck?" you gasped. It was like you were back at the Beta Gamma house ten years ago as Bradley took his nice shirt off and tossed it onto the doorknob of the door that said MARRY.
"I'm about to kick your ass, and the dining room table isn't even regulation size," Bradley told Mickey as the WSO missed a shot. "Sugar, we need to look for a table that's regulation dimensions, okay Baby?" he shouted over P.I.M.P. by 50 Cent. He just kept sinking shot after shot into the cups, and Bob was already looking drunk.
So maybe they all really did almost get kicked out of that restaurant before? 
Jake was unbuttoning his shirt as well now as he said, "I have next game. There's no way Bradshaw can get this lucky all night long."
Bradley smirked and laughed as he looked at you. "I can, and I do, Hangman. Don't act like you haven't seen Sugar before."
Jake laughed, and the other guys cheered. You cradled your forehead in your hands as Bradley wolf whistled at you. "Jesus," you muttered, trying to decide if it was a good idea for you to get drunk yourself or if you needed to babysit the whole group.
"Why isn't your wife playing with you?" Nat shouted, and you contemplated closing the front door before your neighbors complained about the noise.
"We're not married yet!" you replied, but Bradley had his arms wrapped around you immediately. 
"Sorry, Baby. I got excited and just grabbed Javy. You know what they say about old habits, and I haven't played beer bong in years. You're my partner next, okay? Your boobs will help distract the opponents."
You gave in and started laughing, because this whole thing was ridiculous. You let Reuben serve you some crab dip in a crystal glass, and you ate it while everyone around you got progressively drunker on your champagne punch. 
Once Bradley and Javy handily won the matchup, he kicked Javy to the other side of the table to team up with Jake who was now completely shirtless. "You're up, Baby," Bradley said, reaching for you with so much excitement. "We're going to kick ass like we used to." His lips tasted faintly of champagne when he kissed you, and you were surprised. He was so good at this game, he rarely had to drink anything. 
"Winning team goes first," Jake said, rolling the balls across the table to you as Nat set freshly filled cups in front of you. Bradley arranged the cups perfectly like this was actually his profession instead of aviation. And you just stood there and laughed as he stepped behind you and helped you square your hips.
"Okay, now, you need to be awesome, Sugar. Just like college. Because I've got like street cred on the line here."
"I got you, Beer Boy," you promised him and he moaned softly in your ear.
"Remember, it's all just a math problem, and you're so fucking good at math." He released you with a little pat on your butt, and then he was peeling his sweaty undershirt off and tossing it aside before fixing his hat. As soon as you were able to stop laughing, you tossed the first ball with a perfect arc, and everyone in the room watched it splash into the solo cup right in front of Jake while Bradley whooped. 
"What did they teach you people in Virginia?" Jake asked, looking at you like he was thoroughly impressed. And then you watched Bradley toss his ball into one of the cups, and Javy groaned as he and Jake picked up their cups and drank. 
"Roll those balls back over here, boys. We made both of our shots, so we go again," Bradley said before he kissed you hard in front of his friends. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to marry you in that Denny's parking lot tomorrow?"
You were laughing as Nat, Reuben, Mickey and Bob all lined up on your side of the table to cheer you on with the crab dip. "Kick their asses! Jake and Javy are good at everything!" Nat shouted over Big Pimpin' by JAY-Z. You did a little dance and then tossed your ball directly into another cup.
"It's just math!" you said with a smile.
"It's math!" Bradley reiterated to Javy and Jake. "And I feel bad for the two of you, because she's a mathematician." Then he made his second toss, too. "And I lived in a fraternity house for three years."
Jake and Javy looked miserable as you chanted, "Chug, chug, chug!" until they emptied their cups. Then you made another absolutely beautiful throw, and Bradley didn't let you down. In fact, the two of you made every single cup, and Javy and Jake didn't even get a chance to throw a single ball.
"House rules! You drink our cups, too!" Bradley informed them, gesturing to the untouched solo cups lined up at your end of the table. 
"Get to it boys," you said as the others cheered. 
Bradley was all over you again as Javy coughed and sputtered as he tried to chug champagne. "I swear to god, Sugar, if we weren't already engaged, I'd propose right now," Bradley told you as you adjusted the cap on his head and ran your fingers through his curls that stuck out from beneath it. 
"I'd say yes again," you whispered just for him. "Who's ready to get their asses kicked next?" you asked everyone. 
You and Bradley cleaned up so handily, the two of you were barely buzzed, but everyone else was hammered by midnight. The front door was still wide open, and the TV was on as you waited for the countdown to the new year. Bradley popped a bottle of champagne just for you and he to sip as Nat sat on the floor right in front of the TV with the punch bowl on her lap. Most of the guys were lined up on the couches, but Jake came right over to you when he stumbled out of the bathroom. 
"I need to know how you did it," he slurred to Bradley as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pointed at your chest. "How did you manage to get Dr. Tits here? She's exquisite."
You sputtered as you laughed. "Did you just call me Dr. Tits?"
Jake leaned in close to your ear and laughed. "I'm sorry, but I can't even remember my own name right now, darlin'."
"Okay, Hangman," Bradley said as he handed you the bottle of champagne and pulled Jake off of you. "Clearly she has a thing for fuckboys. You can look, because she's smoking hot and it would be impossible not to, but you don't get to touch."
Well, you couldn't deny that. Jake winked at you as he sat down next to Nat before laying on the floor. Bob had the hiccups, Javy was asleep, Reuben was still eating the crab dip, and Mickey was running to the bathroom to throw up as the clock struck midnight. "I love you," Bradley promised before he kissed you sweetly. "And I think we should spend the day tomorrow laying on the couch and talking about getting married. What do you say, Dr. Tits?"
You pressed your lips together and then said, "Only Jake is allowed to call me that," as you erupted into laughter at the scandalized look on Bradley's face.
You kissed his cheek as he said, "I swear, just for that, it's Denny's or nothing, Sugar."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," you replied laughing as you looked at the sloppy mess of Bradley's coworkers on all of your living room surfaces. "Now help me get all of them in Ubers so you can help me out of my dress."
"Oh, hell yes," he replied as he started clapping loudly. "Wake up guys. Rides are coming. Time for you to go so I can get lucky."
The two of you herded everyone outside and into the two cars when they showed up. "Night, Dr. Tits," Jake announced loudly to your entire quiet street as he kissed your cheek before Bradley shoved him into the waiting SUV. 
"Dr. Tits..." Reuben said with a laugh. "Sounds like a superhero who is very good at beer pong."
"She is a superhero. She puts up with Rooster's shit," Nat said as she climbed in behind Jake. 
"I think my sister went to Comic Con as Dr. Tits one year," Mickey said deliriously as Bradley helped him with his seatbelt. "The many adventures of Dr. Tits. She's my favorite Avenger."
Javy was already asleep on Bob as the cars pulled away, and Bradley scooped you up on the driveway and carried you back toward the porch. "You wanna go on an adventure with me, Sugar?"
You took his hat off and put it on your own head. "Are you talking about undressing me or marrying me right now?"
"Both," he replied easily as he kicked the front door closed behind you.
"Then yes."
---------------------------
Beer Boy and Sugar warm my cold, dead heart. Fuckboy Jake, drunk on champagne, also warms my heart. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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yyuangss-main · 1 year
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❝BAILAMOS JUNTOS — SPIDERVERSE HCS
summary ; the spider—men with a hispanic reader who loves to dance a lot and how they are at bailes.
pairings ; miguel o’hara, miles morales (wrote this with earth-1610 miles in mind), hobie brown, pavitr prabhakar, peter b. parker x hispanic fem!reader
note ; because i can’t find any hispanic reader fics for miguel and miles so i’m about to take matters into my own hands and no one can stop me ✌️🤩 added hobie, pavitr, and peter b because why not <3 vale if you see this hush and just read
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• — miguel o’hara !
you found out he can dance and never stopped bugging him about it ever since. he’s somewhat rusty but give him a couple seconds and he’s ready to go. he’s really good, same par as you just not so enthusiastic about it. still, miguel loves that dancing is your favorite thing to do.
told you that he’s a romeo santos fan and you busted out laughing. to this day, seeing a romeo santos song in his playlist makes you laugh and he’s like “leave me alone”. you asked him if romeo was better during his aventura era.
yes, this also means he’s the number one bachata lover but keeps it a secret from everyone, especially you.
the first time you two ever danced it was to imitadora in his so called office. miguel had to make sure no one came in. he’s the type to have one hand on your lower back to pull you in and he has your other one in his, up beside of his head. whole time he’s dancing with you he’s telling you how much he loves you and has you like “o—oh okay 😳”
no space in between you guys whatsoever. he wants to have you as close as possible and sometimes rests his chin on the top of your head as you two dance to whatever song is playing.
he’s definitely an arm around your waist type of guy. you took note that it was his first instinct when dancing. whether it be when you are in la rueda together or it’s a dance that needs a pair, his arm instantly goes around your waist. also probably the kind of guy who dances with an arm around your waist while both of yours are around his neck.
you’re also an arm around the waist when it comes to this man. i mean, why else is he gonna have that slutty waist if you can’t have your arm around it? anytime you guys are dancing and his arm is around your shoulders, you take this into your advantage and hold onto his waist. he’s like “stoppp 🙄”
miguel is at the age where he just criticizes every song you guys are dancing to. do not look at him when a song he hates is on. he’s staring at you through the corner of his eye just saying ‘don’t you dare’ cause wym you wanna dance to prince royce with him?
makes compromises especially if you have told him you like that song or artist.
“que canción tan fea. no se quien le dijo a valentin elizalde que podia cantar.” (t: what an ugly song. i don’t know who told valentin elizalde he could sing)
“miguel, ya callate por favor.” (t: miguel, be quiet already please.)
most of the time, he doesn’t go in the center of the circle with you. not in a bad way, miguel just loves seeing you dance and capture everyone’s attention. he never gets tired of seeing that smile on your face when you’re dancing with your tias and putting on a show for everyone.
if you want him to dance with you for the entire night, he will. that’s no issue for him. besides, certain bailes he’s the one that’s glued at your side and takes you to dance.
bonus; miguel likes taking a break from all his screens once in a while and starts dancing with you. whenever this happens though, miguel prefers to play slower songs or anything where you two don’t have to move around as much. as long as he’s holding you, that’s all he wants. and he admits to romeo being better in aventura. last verse in ella y yo is all you need as proof.
his dance skills when you first started dating: nine out of ten
his dance skills presently: ten out of ten
his favorite genre and artist: bachata ; romeo santos
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• — miles morales !
when you two first started dating, he knew how much of a dancer you were. you’d always post some videos of you and your cousins at quinces or bailes. so when you both were hanging out by yourselves in his room, you started playing some music to dance with him. then he just looks you in your face to tell you, “nah yeah i can’t dance sorry.”
you called him a “yo no sabo” kid and he was highly offended. regardless, he was very willing to learn because he doesn’t want you to feel like he doesn’t care.
you have so much stamina when dancing he cannot keep up with you. from the minute everyone is allowed to start dancing, you are the first one there and he’s along with you. miles decided to count how many times you sat down throughout a baile and it was three times. those three times were simply because the hosts asked the guests to sit down.
he doesn’t know how you can transition from one genre to another so quickly. half a second ago you both were zapateando together and now they have corridos playing. you were so fast to put you hand on his shoulder and reach for the other, meanwhile the poor boy is trying to process the new beat which is much slower and he trips on his own feet. he’s also very shy compared to the rest when it comes to dancing.
feel like he enjoys listening to female artists a lot more to the male artists.
miles is surprisingly good at tejano, huapango, and wepa. so much so you had to ask him to teach you and he was like ‘neehee what was that, you yo no sabo kid?’
he’s definitely more of an arm around your shoulder type of guy. it just makes it easier for him to pull you towards him and so you two take your steps together at the same time. likes it when you bring your arm around him too or if you hold his hand.
one time, you invited his parents to come along with him at one of your cousin’s quince. you found out miles’ dad is the exact same as he is. even when his parents were dancing, his dad was doing the same things as him. miles is just a carbon copy.
at that same party, miles left to the bathroom for a couple minutes and when he came back, his dad was sitting by himself at their table. meanwhile, you and his mom was nowhere in sight. he asked where you two where at and his dad just said, “on the dance floor,” and pointed to you and rio getting cheered on by your entire family while being in the middle of the circle.
it made him feel happy and once again, offended, because you were dancing with his mom and because you weren’t dancing with him. you and rio got along super well but the way she was having the time of her life with you made miles know he made the right choice.
offended for a third time because you took her to a birthday party you got invited to instead of him. it’s around ten pm when he gets a video of you and his mom getting cheered on while dancing to some cumbias and pulling dance moves he’d never seen before. his first thought once he’s done watching the video is, “yup. she’s the one.”
bonus; miles is really great at la quebradora. you can really thank his spider—man strength for most of it. it didn’t take you guys long to perfect it and once you guys show it off at a baile, his whole nervous demeanor is gone for the remainder of the night. he’ll constantly ask someone to record you guys when doing la quebradora and posts it whenever he can.
his dance skills when you first started dating: six out of ten
his dance skills presently: nine out of ten
his favorite genre and artist: tejano ; selena
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• — hobie brown !
hobie’s really at bailes to eat. like. nothing else to it 😭 you’ll invite him and he’s already thinking of all the to go plates he’s going to bring back home. yes yes, he dances with you. why wouldn’t he? but that food?
hobie gets you in trouble every time with your tias. they baby him saying “mi pobre hoberto, verda que no te da de comer?” (t: my poor hobart, she doesn’t give you anything to eat right?”) and he’s like “no tia 😖” and they give him two plates he’s smirking at you talking about some, “grassy ass.”
off the bat, he’s already preferring corridos, norteñas, bachatas or anything you have to dance to as a pair because of the height difference. he loves being able to hold you close and just look down at you.
though even with songs you don’t need to be paired up with, he’ll do it regardless. hobie just loves the idea of being close to you even in your most favorite thing to do.
he’s one to stick to the basic dance moves and sometimes he doesn’t put much effort when dancing which makes you mad. he knows it does he’s just doing it on purpose because he’s evil.
hobie understands spanish to a good level thanks to you. he likes singing the lyrics with you as you guys dance together. you’re so passionate about it and sometimes he just stops to admire you, a smile on his face.
prefers a lot of the older artists compared to the newer ones. has a bit of a hate relationship with corridos tumbados. doesn’t really want to dance to those and won’t ask you. if you ask him, then he’ll go but you take note he sits there, judging the song as he eats his fifth plate of rice and barbacoa.
he’s an arm around the shoulders type of guy too. it’s just connecting back to the height difference. this makes it easier for the both of you as well so at least one of you can lead. easier for him to lean down and give you a kiss on the side of your head.
likes it when you tug on his arm, dragging him to go dance with him because a song you both like is on. he thinks it’s really cute how excited you get.
bonus; hobie knows which artists you like and the songs as well. he even made a playlist of it to listen to whenever you’re not around. pretends to be shocked when a song or artist you like comes on even though he requested it so he could ask you to dance.
his dance skills when you first started dating: seven out of ten.
his dance skills presently: eight out of ten.
his favorite genre and artist: corridos ; chalino sanchez
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• — pavitr prabhakar !
off the start pavitr was so good at dancing that you barely had to teach him much. instantly, his favorite genres are cumbia and merengue. you’re both in your own world when they come on. he prefers them the most since he likes that you have to move around more to them.
the main thing you had to teach him was how to zapatear. pavitr had the most trouble with that since there were so many different versions of it. he quickly caught on though by looking at you and your family members dance it from the sidelines. he struggled a bit even after grasping the concept but now it’s in his favorites too.
more of a hand holder when it comes to dancing. he just finds it easier to pull you around and give you a spin. but also it gives him a bit of stability and that you both are moving at the same time together.
surprises you with some dances you didn’t even know he was practicing on. they played la iguana one time and pulled you to the center with him. next thing you know, pavitr’s doing la iguana and you’re just staring at him in shock as everyone’s recording him.
loves, loves, loves it when you tell him that everyone at el recalentado was talking about him turning up and being the life of the party. they had asked you if he was columbian and they began guessing what race off his dance skills. until you told him pavitr’s indian and they were so surprised. he got dubbed as a hispanic by everyone there. he feels so special when you tell him. it has him giggling and kicking his feet, “aw your family likes me :)”
pavitr loves doing el grito with los tios. he just likes feeling included in everything. he heard them do it once and just went along with it. you side eyed him wondering how more of a natural he is than you are. is he secretly hispanic? you’ll never know.
texts you one day saying, “your aunt is celebrating your cousin’s birthday. do you wanna go to the party with me?” and you’re like “babe wym?” yes, you saw that right. he gets invited now before you. pavitr is now immediate family. he’s legit the first one to receive an invitation now.
he’ll surprise you by taking you to some bailes he knew about. please do matching outfits with this boy when you guys go 🙏 he’ll dress in your culture’s traditional clothes. in fact, he even starts wearing them as an every day outfit. you find it cute and can’t help but give him a kiss.
that being said, you guys don’t come back home until after three from a baile. you always apologize to your parents but they know that you and pavitr are having the time of your lives. you both love dancing just as equally and you’re glad you found someone who loves it the same way you do. and you both complain about how your legs hurt the next day together.
i mean it when i say no one can take you guys off the dance floor for anything 🙅🏻‍♂️
menace to society when duranguense plays. society being you because he saw a video of this couple spinning really fast while dancing duranguense and they called it “el tornado”. he started doing it every time the genre comes on. turns out he just thought the video was hilarious and loses his mind over it.
bonus; he was one time blasting la mama de la mama at the max volume with hobie driving an old honda civic, driving at full speed down the streets chasing an anomaly in their spider suits. no reason for them to even be in a car, they just wanted to jam to the song.
his dance skills when you first started dating: nine out of ten.
his dance skills presently: gets snatched up by your tias to dance with instead of you.
his favorite genre and artist: merengue ; k—paz
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• — peter b. parker !
first time he ever went to your family party early stage of you guys dating and everyone was like, “how did you two get together?” he’s like “haha yeah i don’t know myself.” when he literally bagged you like this except he said his name instead.
he’s actually standing with los tios as they all watch their wives get down on the dance floor and they’re stuck recording the entire thing for el facebook live. except unlike los tios he’s over there like 😃🤳🏻. he is your top supporter and then tells one of them, “yeah that’s my wife :)” as if they didn’t already know.
his icloud hasn’t been backed up in six years and finally asks you why it keeps saying it. turns out he has over thirty thousand videos in his phone of you at parties dancing. refuses to delete any of them.
he wasn’t the best at dancing when you guys first started dating. okay he was terrible. there was no saving him. which was such an issue for peter because you were always dragging him to bailes and he would have zero rhythm. of course, you started teaching him whenever you guys had time. he practices on his own sometimes just to save you the trouble.
peter tries his hardest to learn because it always makes you an extra amount of happy when you two are dancing together. just do not take him when merengue comes on. he refuses to go.
for one, he’s too stiff dancing it but his legs? how do you dance this every time it’s on let alone continue after the songs change? he’s in pain and had to sit out for the rest of the party the first time he danced merengue. to this day, peter still feels the burn in his legs.
also an arm around the waist type of guy. he loves it a little too much. he likes having both of his arms around your waist while you guys dance to norteñas. he never takes his eyes off you and he likes to give you kisses during the songs.
dumbass accidentally dedicated a narco corrido to you meanwhile you just had to smile and nod at him.
you don’t leave him with los tíos for a long time anymore because he ends up becoming a whole new person. he got drunk with them and all of a sudden, peter just magically knew how to dance. he was having a whole dance battle with one of your tios and won. he’s like, “ya viste? 😃 dicen que gane!” (t: did you see? they said i won!”) where the hell did you learn spanish from? has no recollection of him speaking it the next day.
in fact, he’s actually a whole new persona when tierra caliente music comes on. you still don’t know why and won’t ever find out. the roles end up getting reversed and now you’re dragged to dance with him instead.
needs about two to three weeks to recuperate. what do you mean you guys are going back again? begs you to let him stay home and sleep so he doesn’t need to go to el recalentado.
bonus; definitely said big booty latinas was his weakness to you thinking you were his favorite tio when he was drunk at one point. cried the entire way home because you “kidnapped him from his big booty latina and she was gonna beat both of you up.”
his dance skills when you guys first dated: zero out of ten.
his dance skills presently: eight out of ten.
his favorite genre and artist: norteñas ; seto vargas
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2K notes · View notes
hollisxwrites · 4 months
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Hiii!!! I was wondering if you could do a Percy x Reader, where it’s a friends to lovers kind of thing, they have kind of a childish relationship, and they confess their feelings towards each other when Percy gets a bit jealous of the reader and Grover being close? If not that’s 100% okay! And either way I hope you have a good day or night xx🤍
our goat man friend did the underwater jig
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percy jackson x fem reader
word count: 1.6k maybe?
authors note: GUYS. i love you all. thank you for supporting me and my work, I have 3k notes now, and 70 followers. i owe this all to you, and i am so proud of the work that i have done so far. i think this is the most unserious fic i have written; i wrote this at one am, but i think it's cute and fluffy and silly. i hope you guys enjoy my dancing goat man that i love so much! also, so sorry if this is not exactly what you were looking for, anon, i just kind of took a silly idea and ran with it lol.
warnings: jealous percy!, curse words, a fish, this is so silly.
Percy Jackson was my best friend in the entire world, but he was also someone that I love more than my life itself. Ever since we met one faithful day in June, my first day of so-called summer camp, we became inseparable. The son of Poseidon was beautiful, to say the least, and he was endearing. Everyone in Camp loved him, which made everyone in Camp love me, as we were pretty much joined at the hip. Starting when we were thirteen, we would spend the night in his cabin together since we were both plagued by vivid nightmares that left us both restless. It started off as just sharing his cabin, but then it came to sharing a bed, and eventually, us holding each other for maximum nightmare prevention. We also trained together, more and more often the older we got, and we even broke the rules and ate every meal with each other. The young campers, once we turned seventeen and were seen as the ‘cool, older campers’ thought we were dating, and one of them went as far to say that we were married. I could see where someone young would assume that, but none of the older campers said anything…to our faces. I heard the rumors, but I chose to ignore them, Percy and I were just friends. We teased each other, of course, and made sex jokes to each other all of the time, but we were just friends, sadly.
I was in love with the Percy Jackson. He was everything I could ever want, but I blocked out my feeling in order to salvage our friendship that I held so dear. That didn’t stop me, however, from thinking about kissing him every time we laid in his bed together, every time his hand brushed against mine, and every time we spared, and he pinned me to the ground. We spent every single day together, and so, of course, his friends became my friends, and that includes his best friend, Grover.
Though Percy was always going to be my best friend, my home, I was quite the sociable person, and so I enjoyed spending time with everyone. Grover was hilarious, in a quiet way, and he kept me on my toes and my wit in tip top shape. I slowly began to start spending almost as much time with Grover as I did Percy, and nine times out of ten, Percy would tag along, making us a happy little trio that most definitely got along. This specific day, we were spending time at Percy’s favorite place on the Campgrounds, the lake.
I was chasing after Grover and Percy who had taken off spiriting through the woods after they heard some rustling in the trees that they thought was a monster, or even worse, Clarisse, but it just ended up being a cute little bunny. “Guys!” I panted out. “Wait up, please!”
Percy looked behind himself and at me. He gave me one of his award-winning smirks and said, “just run faster, bitch!”
Grover snorted rather unattractively at that, but the joke didn’t stop him from slowing his pace to let me catch up to him. “Don’t want you to get lost.” Grover winked, making me laugh at his comedic gesture.
“Stop flirting and hurry up, don’t want anyone to have the same idea as us!” Percy, from about thirty feet away, yelled, a sour tone in his voice.
“Ew, we are not flirting, Perc!” I yelled back, in an equally disgusted tone.
Grover rolled his eyes at both of us and lowered his voice just to address me. “When are you going to tell him, girl?” He massaged his temples. “He is goo-goo eyed for you.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Never. I love him, but he doesn’t love me like that.”
Grover nearly groaned in annoyance. “{Reader}, I’m saying this because I am your friend, but you are acting like a dumbass. I have told you he loves you, and you love him, and why don’t you just act on it?”
Grover had been my wingman this entire time, encouraging me to grow some balls and ask the man of my dreams out. It all started this one time where, on a dare, someone asked Percy to kiss me, and he obliged without any protest. Putting two and two together, Grover decided that I liked Percy, and he liked me, and so we needed to date. That was three years ago. Nothing anywhere close to that, except this one time he kissed me on the cheek because…that’s beside the point.
“I will, Grover. I just don’t want to…”
My thought was cut off by us approaching the clearing where the man of the hour, the beautiful, Perseus Jackson stood, his arms crossed, and cheeks flushed from overexertion. “Took you guys soon enough! Let’s swim!”
Percy tossed his orange t-shirt aside and it took everything in my power not to stare. He was just too stunning. I followed suit, pulling off my athletic shorts and matching orange Camp shirt to reveal a deep blue swimsuit that I think showed off figure that I had acquired from training.
I dove in the water after Percy, and he scooped me into his freckled arms. “I like the swimsuit.” He said with a sheepish smile on his face.
“Thank you, Perc.” I said, my face flushed, but I pretended it was from the bright sun that was baking us.
Our moment was interrupted by Grover cannonballing right into the middle of our little bubble of unconfessed feelings, sending a tidal wave of water over Percy and I.
I wiped the water from my eyes when all of the sudden, Percy pushed me under the water. In the moment, I started to panic, a little bit, because I couldn’t breathe, but all of the sudden, I could. Percy was protecting me. My initial thought was, poor Grover, we’re abandoning him, but then my second thought was, holy shit, I’m underwater alone, in a bubble, with Percy fucking Jackson.
Percy smiled at me and hurried me along when we were finally able to touch the floor of the lake. I could see Grovers little goat feet treading water from above us, and it made both me and Percy giggle a little bit. Percy finally stopped pushing me along in his little bubble when we reached a beautiful cove of water lilies. I smiled at the boy in front of me, and he smiled back, a little awkwardly.
“Soooo…{Reader}.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. I giggled awkwardly. “Percy.”
“I see you and Grover have gotten…closer.” His eyes were unreadable, and I had no idea where this was going.
“He’s a twenty-something year old goat man who I see as more of a father figure than anything else, Percy. I am a seventeen-year-old demigod who has no father figure in her life. We may have gotten closer, but it’s nothing like that.” I said, a matter-of-fact tone in my voice.
Percy looked embarrassed at this, probably thinking about how he didn’t really think his accusation through. “That’s very true.” His eyes avoided meeting mine, and he seemed suddenly very interested in a fish swimming by me.
“Why do you care?” I asked, genuinely wondering. Percy shrugged at this, not confessing his real reason for dragging to the bottom of a dam lake. “Look at me, Perc, why do you care?”
His eyes finally met mine. “Because you’re mine, and I don’t want someone else to look at you the way I want to.”
I was…flabbergasted…to say the least. I was not expecting that. “Of course, I am yours, but to what extent? We can’t keep dancing around each other, waiting for someone to finally break the tension surrounding us.”
At this, Percy pulled us closer together, our faces inches apart. “This tension?”
My breath faltered. “This exactly.”
Percy let us linger on the feeling of closeness without pressing our lips together. Our eyes met, and our noses nearly touched, but neither of us took the next step. I could feel him breathing, and I was sure he could feel me, and the electric energy of love sparking between that I was sure the fishes around us could feel it. “Kiss me, asshole.” I mumbled against his lips, and his next movement made my head spin.
The kiss was…magical. I was unable to think of anything, not even how to breathe. Percy’s lips were everywhere and nowhere all at once, and my hands found his hair almost by instinct. Before things could get a little too far, both of us looked up and almost had a heart attack. Grover was right above us doing a little jig in the water, holding his nose, trying not to inhale water.
“What the fuck, Grover!” Percy exclaimed, laughing hysterically, his hands still around my waist. Grover floated back up to the surface, probably going back up for air, and Percy and I smiled at each other, laughter seizing our bodies.
We paddled back up to the surface. “Grover, I will slaughter you.” I said, the huge smile on my face telling him that my threat was empty.
“I win a bet! I win a bet!” Grover sang, doing his little jig on the beach now. “I am so glad I do not have to listen to you guys pine over each other anymore!”
I gasped and looked at Percy who froze beside me. “You pined over me?”
“That’s a story for another day.” Percy said, stifling back a laugh.
The rest of the day was bliss, my new boyfriend and annoying, jigging goat friend by my side, making that day a day that I would always remember.
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alchely · 2 months
Text
My Top Gallavich fics
So, under the advice of the lovely @iangallagherisadeadman I've decided to compile a favorites Gallavich fic list along with a brief rec of each, this won't be a strict top 10 cause I'm not gonna torture myself into excluding some of these stories on some made-up self imposed arbitrary rules.
A bunch of disclaimers: most of these fics are long fics, going from 30k words up, I'm not purposefully excluding shorter fics, I have read plenty of them, but they do have a harder time sticking in my head months after reading.
Most of these fics will be explicit, just read the tags on the fic itself if you want to find out more.
Some of these fics don't have links because the authors chose to lock them and as such make them unlinkable, in order to read them you will need to go through the author's page while you're logged in your AO3 account.
This ended up ballooning out of control and is A LOT longer than ten fics, I apologize in advance :p.
YOU'LL NEVER SEE US AGAIN – spoonfulstar - 231k words
Mickey and Ian have been students at Marceline boarding school their whole lives, as their time at the institute draws toward the end they will start to discover many things, about themselves, about each other and about the world they live in.
THIS FIC! I CRIED! The number of fanfiction that are able to make me cry can be counted on a singular hand, the emotional stakes get higher and higher as the story goes on, leading to a beautiful and bittersweet climax.
This story will make you think and feel deeply about topics you'd never think a shameless fic would delve into.
I am obsessed with Mickey in this fic, he and Ian grow up in an environment that could not be more removed from South Side Chicago and yet his personality is still so recognizably and distinctly Mickey.
The story goes very dark at times, and the fic itself could be considered lengthy, but I assure you the author has made sure to not make you feel it. Those 200k words flowed so well the story did not feel long at all.
HELP ME (TEAR DOWN MY REASON) – wehangout - 34k words
Mickey is a detective and Ian becomes a suspect in an investigation except Mickey already knows him because he's his favorite dancer.
This fic falls under the umbrella of fics where “Mickey is so in love with Ian he does something unbelievably crazy”.
Oooh boy, this fic, it's written in second person (yes you've read that right), tbh out of all fics I've read from this author I think this one was the easiest to adjust mentally to the change in perspective.
I loved Mickey’s “love” in this, just… This raw connection to Ian, the perfect cocktail of feelings, I could read that all day long.
IN ANOTHER WORLD – Roryonic - 249k words
Mickey does not get sent to prison at the end of S5, what happens after and how his presence influences future events (mostly Ian, but also every other Gallagher as well as his own family).
As far as I'm concerned this fic is the closest to a perfect S6 and beyond fix-it. The dialogue writing in this story is so close to canon Shameless that I could picture entire scenes in my head with the actors playing the characters, with their body and personality quirks.
Sometimes I find myself describing this fic like it's the actual show's deleted scenes, “Look, Mickey has his own storyline! And Mandy is here! And the existence of Yevgeni does not become a plot hole!”
There are some Mickey lines in this fic that to me are as canon as if they'd been in the show. Absolutely iconic writing.
I love this author so here's a rec of some of their other longfics, however I highly suggest a lot of their other much shorter stuff as well:
BATTLESHIPS AND LOVE BOATS: Ian and Mickey start their “no strings attached” kind of sex relationship a little later than canon but their attraction and love is just as strong. This is a sort of High School AU that turns into a Prison AU that turns into something else and every shift is just as lovely as the next.
YOU SMELL LIKE LOVE: Ian and Mickey are childhood friends, to the point that the rest of the Gallaghers might as well consider Mickey a seventh brother, mmmh, I sure wonder how things will start to change. Look, I never thought I'd love a childhood friends AU for Gallavich yet here I am, if it's good it's good.
ME AND THE DEVIL: Mickey unconsciously calls for a vengeance demon and Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, because Mickey is a stubborn dumbass they fall in love instead. This story has a lot of twists and turns and the premise is only the very beginning of the story. I LOVED it!
THE INCREASINGLY POOR DECISIONS OF IAN GALLAGHER – Shamelessquestions - 309k words
Ian is a dancer in a club, he accidentally gets involved in the affair of a dangerous mafia don, but the true danger is the attraction he and the mafioso’s right hand Mickey feel for each other as soon as they meet.
What. A. Classic. Truly, an unforgettable story, and I don't mean this in hyperbole, I read this story around… 2016/2017 during my second round in the Shameless fandom, then I read countless other fics in a lot of other fandom and yet this story was the only one that my mind retained from back then, to the point that I could still remember some of the finer details as well as the final plot twists when I came back to reread it.
The plot is constructed beautifully and the original characters (part of the Shamelessquestions fanfiction universe, as they come back time and time again in every one of their AU to fulfill their role in the story) are just as vibrant.
What a story, truly.
Favorite original character in this AU: Sal, his downfall is so satisfying and yet so pitiful to read.
TEENAGERS SCARE THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME – Mellow_Yellow - 221k words
Ian finds something scary and calls Mickey for help, even though they had only reconnected that very day after two years of not seeing each other. Together, they get sucked into a situation they weren't at all prepared for. Can they even admit that they're in over their head?
The very beginning of this fic is SO cinematic it grabbed my interest from the very first scene and didn't let go until the end, DO NOT search for spoilers.
The only warning I'll give is that it does deal with a bit of gore and what I'm personally gonna define as slight psychological horror. That's it. Enjoy!
BROKE STRAIGHT BOYS – dancermk - 66k words
Mickey becomes a porn actor for a site where he has to pretend he's straight and not enjoying the copious amount of gay sex he's having on camera, enter Ian, another actor under the same agency and their off the chart physical chemistry.
This story has, needless to say, some really, really good smut. I especially loved their first time together, but every sex scene in this story is seared in my mind.
ETHERIZED AGAINST THE SKY – Snarfle - 213k words
So, I debated whether I should add this fic or not, but I think if there is one fic that will stay in my mind long after this Shameless binge of the past couple of months it's this one, and it should absolutely become one of those fic that everyone in the fandom should read.
After Mickey gets shot by Kash his life takes a completely different direction and he ends up in a group home where, through many difficult times, he turns his life around.
So many iconic moments in this fic, some funny as fuck, some sad, some so absurd that I'm surprised they weren't lifted straight from Shameless, one so gruesome in the very first chapter that I was surprised to have such a visceral feeling from just words on a screen. Yeah, this story will stay with me for a long time.
OLD RULES FOR NEW SIDE PIECES – Shamelessquestions - 217k words
Ian is a Fed and he spots Mickey looking suspicious in an art museum, the mutual attraction is overwhelming, Mickey is not what he seems and Ian is already with someone else, but that's not gonna stop him from pursuing what he and Mickey have.
Putting it as bluntly as I can, this fic made me face the realization that I love cheating fics (if the cheating happens to someone else to bring together the endgame couple). I have already reread this fic twice and I could probably go for another one and not get tired of it, it's that good, and out of all this author's fics it's probably my favorite.
Favorite original characters in this AU: It's a three way tie between Dre, Ivan and Carrie, they're all very captivating in this story.
Other fic from this author I'd recommend cause I really love their style:
LOST IN TRANSLATION: Ian meets a very attractive man while he's in Ukraine who doesn't speak English, a mere language barrier won't stop him from flirting for hours. (adorable)
YOU MAKE ME FEEL HUMAN – Dragona - 66k words
Ian is an assassin, he meets Mickey and thus begins a very sick love story.
To say I'm obsessed with this fic is an understatement, I suggest to everyone to just go read the original author’s own description of the fic, it sets the tone of the story magnificently.
This is an Ian Gallagher that almost resembles Jerome (also played by Cameron in Gotham) but like… a slightly more subdued and saner S1/S2 version of him. I love the layers that get peeled right in front of my eyes, the madness that creeps in a bit more every chapter. I LOVE this story.
DRIED INK - 87k words
This fic combines my two favorite Gallavich-specific tropes, one being ‘Mickey comes back from prison after s6, Ian is with someone else’ and ‘Ian cheats on that someone else for Mickey’
I love the Gallaghers in this and how unsurprised they are at Ian going back to Mickey right away. It's a little jewel of a fic.
Mickey tries SO hard to stop himself and Ian in this but their love is too magnetic, they're irresistible to each other.
THE QUESTION OF NORMAL – blue_newman - 92k words
Ian is a prison counselor, Mickey is in prison, they fall in love and it's beautiful and Ian is incredibly devoted to Mickey in this fic and I fell in love with them both in this.
KINDA RAW – catgrassplantdad - 6k
Quite simply this is my favorite short pwp fic.
Illustrating those “five times” in one night that Mickey references in 11x01.
This fic is so hot, I love it <3
QUATERVOIS – DodgerBear - 51k words
Soldier Mickey gets stationed in the middle of nowhere and meets a farmer called Ian who makes him question everything.
Falling under the same umbrella of “Mickey does something crazy for Ian” fics and this is why it stuck in my mind even if it's been a while since I've read it.
I LOVE this story, their dialogues and everything that happens in it. The setting is lovely and you will fall in love with the description of Ian’s farm.
Other fic by the same author that I also loved:
BURDEN OF PROOF: Cop Mickey gets caught in a legal battle between the two oldest Gallagher brothers, something doesn't feel right though…
THE WORDS HE DOESN'T SAY: Mickey is released before Ian in s10 and has to meet a court-mandated therapist. The story is from the therapist POV and goes AU from the beginning of s10 in that Mickey gets involved back into Yev and Svetlana’s life, the dialogue is, quite obviously, the main attraction of the story and it's really well done. (Also, written in first person).
THE MENAGERIE – CrossMyDNA - 147k words
Ian decides to re-explore his bdsm preferences at The Menagerie where he meets sub extraordinaire Mickey on his very first visit.
Shameless is undoubtedly the fandom that opened my eyes to what bdsm could be back in… approx 2016? When that other popular bdsm fic was still around *ahem*.
So it definitely feels like a sign that coming back into the fandom this fic now exists and is SO GOOD.
Obviously it's very explicit, the smut in this fic is one of the best I've ever read.
The chemistry between Ian and Mickey sizzles off the screen and can absolutely be felt even in moments not of the nsfw variety, absolutely recommended!
MICKEY MILKOVICH’S GUIDE TO FLIRTING – whatwouldmickeydo - 40k words
An s2 “missing moments” between Gallavich, completely canon compliant, all under the pretense that Mickey is following a step by step guide to flirting.
I wish this fic was describing canon moments, not kidding a single bit, I wish I could somehow magically manifest these scenes into existence they're that good and fit that well into canon.
M8TE – gallawitch - 53k words
Omegaverse fic where Ian and Mickey both start using an app and end up matching with each other, even though a connection is made almost instinctively, coming to terms with it with a sound mind will take a bit longer…
Hey,had to have at least one of these on here lol
I love omegaverse and this was everything I wanted from it, couldn't have asked for anything better really <3.
SHACKLED – MyRelapse - 19k words
Ian has a change of heart and he decides that Mickey IS the one he wants, even if he's still in prison, so he keeps in contact and goes through every hoop imaginable to have him back as soon as possible.
Reading this made me so happy like I could burst, love it.
WAITING ON MY OWN TOO LONG – Ride4812 - 266k words
This rec more than any other on this list is what I'm gonna consider self indulgent because it covers the trope I always craved to read in such a satisfying way: Canon AU where Mickey comes back from prison after 8 years, Ian has found someone else but the moment the two meet again they fall back into each other right away.
The series is made up of 4 smaller fics:
One more night
Something more this time
No more lonely nights
Ain't this life so sweet
(I will point out here and nowhere else that the last installment of this series has some segment that probably needed to be re-read a couple more times, but by that point I was too invested, and the quality fluctuates a lot only in certain parts)
The writing style is very direct and to the point, which I love, the smut is very present and written beautifully and most importantly never boring.
Ian is a MESS in this fic and had me Stressed™, mostly cause for some reason I can't handle too much casual depiction of drug abuse and addiction (I know, ironic considering the fandom).
Conflicts and resolutions are never clean cut, they don't necessarily resolve quickly or definitely or the way you probably imagine they should and I find this level of realism very satisfying.
Taking a bit of space here at the end to also rec a couple other Ride4812 fics that I also loved:
COUP DE FOUDRE - A model/photographer AU where Ian and Mickey fall in love the instant they meet and do some crazy things because of that.
HOPE HE MIGHT - A lawyer AU where Ian and Mickey are on opposing sides for the same client, an interesting murder mystery steeped in a religious cult.
Generally I feel like this author is really good at depicting just how unapproachable Mickey can be to anyone that isn't called Ian Gallagher and I eat it up every time.
WHAT THE NIGHT DOES TO THE DAY – andchaos - 9k words
A Gallavich childhood friends AU with a quite original arrangement for the story and the various segments of their lives. Very satisfying read.
RANSOM – BeckyHarvey29 - 112k words
Terry sends his sons to kidnap a Gallagher child to force Frank into paying back the money he owes, unfortunately for him Mickey and his brothers kidnap Ian, and a whole other kind of story unfolds.
Mickey and Ian falling in love in this fic is such a good read. I don't wanna spoil anything of how that or the kidnapping plot goes, since the two are so intertwined. Just know that it will be worth it.
UNDER LOCK AND KEY – Suzy_Queue - 106k words
Ian is assigned the night shift at his new job where he provides spare keys to his fellow college students stuck outside their dorm rooms. To make matters worse his shift coworker is the oh so infamous Mickey Milkovich.
I am magnetized by the way this author writes their pining for each other, their attraction and obsession, how it blooms and unfolds. This fic in particular had me develop a very bad case of tunnel vision, couldn't really turn away until I finished reading it all.
I still haven't read everything this author has to offer, but so far I also loved:
INHUMAN: A mysterious force starts attacking people close to Mickey and it all seems to lead to a mysterious redhead Mickey is oh so coincidentally obsessed with. Very cool paranormal story.
THESE FOOLISH GAMES: Mickey takes over as the boss of the local branch of a trampoline park, where Ian is one of the employees, they annoy each other to no end but what they don't know is that they're secretly texting each other.
IS THERE SOMEWHERE – andchaos - 48k words
Mickey is born with no words on his skin, convinced he's going to live a life of misery cause no one will ever say the words he's destined to hear, he's not a very happy guy. Here comes mute boy Ian who crashes into his life and won't let go.
A classic Soulmate AU, I love that like in a lot of other Gallavich fics their physical connection and compatibility usually comes before their emotional one, it is one aspect that I feel distinguishes their relationship to many other fandom’s ships.
LAST NIGHT AT THE VERONA GRAND HOTEL – the_rat_wins - 27k words
Mickey starts working at an ancient hotel who's supposedly haunted. Mickey doesn't believe in ghost stories, he is much more interested in this one guest he meets at night during his shift.
What a cinematic experience this fic is! Absolutely recommended, the length of it makes it so you can read it in the same time it would take to watch the same story in movie format.
Other fics by the same authors that have impressed me:
FADE THIS ONE TO BLACK: Ian dies of overdose in a pile of snow outside the club, when Mickey finds him there he vows to do anything to get him back.
I don't know why but this fic in particular gives off the vibes of being a pilot for a ya urban fantasy TV series, except we gotta imagine everything that comes after the first episode lol
NO LIE: Ian and Mickey are Soulmates and as such they can't lie to each other. This series is short and sweet and full of feelings, perfect
PARAGRAPHS – pink_ink - 100k words
Ian becomes a reading tutor for ex-convicts, Mickey is among them and Ian starts paying him more and more attention.
This is a story where they meet under very different circumstances and where they've lived slightly different lives compared to canon and yet they're still able to find each other in the end.
Also, sign me up for every fic where Ian has to work just as hard to help Mickey and care for him as the opposite, where Ian's brand of stubbornness is the only way to get through to Mickey.
I'm also adding a couple of ongoing fics, just two to not overwhelm too much.
NONE THE WISER – Loftec - ~218k words
Ian starts visiting Mickey’s diner, it takes a while and yet no time at all to warm up to each other.
I'm captivated by the author's writing style. I love Ian's and Mickey’s relationship. I love how they sort of take their time and yet pine helplessly for each other.
I'm obsessed with the fact that the whole point of the fic doesn't appear until two thirds of the way in cause the diner scenes were just too good to pass up on lol (and I 100% agree with them).
INTRO TO QUANTUM DATING – spoonfulstar - ~563k words
Canon Mickey and Ian meet in University. A college slice of life but drenched in the casual (and not so casual) darkness of canon shameless.
The dark humor in this is fenomenal and left me gasping laughing so many times.
Unexpectedly Ian in this fic is pursuing a linguistics oriented degree, which was what I studied when I tried university, the topics are explained in such an accurate way I have to assume the author studied them themselves and that this story is somewhat a reimagining of their own college experience because if not this would be an absurd amount of accurate research to make.
Reading this fic feels like living through the American college experience from the comfort of my home lol.
As I said before, this author's way of writing does not weight you down even with its length, the story flows perfectly from one scene to the next and before you realize it you've reached the end and you have to accept that 500k words weren't even enough.
Let's end this list with some quick recommendations
WHILE WE'RE MAKING OTHER (PEOPLE'S) PLANS - kyasticlikestea
Mickey is volunteered to organize someone's else's wedding after he managed to salvage his own so well, he'll do it, but his own Southside way.
THIS IS THE ROAD TO RUIN - bricoleur10
Ian and Mickey never go to rob Ned, the story unfolds differently from there. A fix-it with a lot of Gallavich longing , very good smut and some really good dialogue.
HEY, HONEY MINE (I WAS THERE ALL THE TIME) - serveteas
Mickey talks about his crush with Iggy and accidentally pronoun-slips. Short, to the point, funny af and I just really love it. Takes place after their fight at Kash’n Grab in s2.
AGAINST GLASS - AllThatMatters
Ian gets traded from one club to another as a dancer (and more) and ends up in the Milkovich family's club. This is a Mafia!Mickey story with some pretty tight sub-plots, I love his brothers in this.
ONE OF A KIND - fckyeahgallavich
Mickey breaks his finger and it has to be set in the hospital, chaos - of the homophobic kind - ensues. Protective!Ian, I wanna hug Mickey in this.
IAN THE FRIENDLY GHOST - Ravenheart
Ian is haunting an apartment and Mickey starts living in it, Ian is maybe starting to have a crush on him. This isn't angsty!
BLOOD IN, BLEED OUT - brewrosemilk, Whatsastory
Historical AU. Perfectly innocent bystander Ian Gallagher is thrown into the affairs of the Ukrainian Mafia back in 1954, his relationship with Mickey will span decades and he won't remain innocent for long, the mafia can corrupt anyone.
TEENAGE RUNAWAY - sadwhales
Ian comes to live and finish high school with his half siblings on the South Side, he's immediately captivated by a boy sitting under the bleachers, maybe his North Side naivety will catch his attention too.
GARDEN SONG - melwrtiesthings
A glimpse into their lives in their West Side apartment, a lot of initial angst due to a manic episode and then a lot of recovery and healing and learning more about themselves.
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vinelark · 5 months
Text
in return for the fic recs i got last month, here are a few fics i read recently that i want to absolutely yell about from the rooftops:
Iron, Fire, Mirror-Glass by PurpleSoot: an early batman days AU where, while slowly healing from a spine-shattering injury, bruce finds an old book about the fae. in a fit of desperation he attempts a Summoning to try to heal his spine. enter: robin.
this story is fantastic—the kind of longfic with a plot so good and satisfying that finishing it leaves you on a reading high for at least a week. one of the best early days bruce fics i’ve ever read, with honorable mentions to excellent alfred and clark and jim and selina characterizations—but robin (dick) really takes the cake here. the balance of chilling, otherworldly, not-quite-human vs. playful, earnest, Still Just a Child…chef’s kiss. the way robin’s character arc drags bruce kicking and screaming through his own emotional growth is so well-paced and well-wrought that i already want to reread just so i can experience it again. this is one of those god-tier longfics that i can’t believe i got to read for free on the internet.
mid-reading testimonial:
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The Lone Ranger Never Had to Deal with Bruce Wayne by @theskeptileptic: a tim-joins-the-family-early fic in which tim decides to do everyone (his parents) a solid by faking his own death and running away to canada, except his weirdo neighbor bruce wayne keeps butting in and messing up his plans.
this is one of the rare stories where tim doesn’t know batman’s identity yet, and even rarer stories where that somehow makes the whole thing even more compelling. this fic has two of my favorite things: small, lonely, moderately unhinged tim drake pov, and really good pangs—pangs that are expertly teased out through flashbacks that add context to the present action at exactly the right moments. also, a very fun cameo near the end. i had a blast reading this one, physically clutched my chest more than once, and am already looking forward to rereading.
mid-reading testimonial (feat. @cairoscene):
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equivalent exchange by scribblemetimbers (wip): an au set during tim’s robin days in which tim discovers 1) crossroads demons are a thing and 2) people can make deals with them. deals that include bringing people back from the dead, so long as you’re willing to pay the price with your own life.
this fic is so…🤌‼️ it feels like everything i want in a fic so far, down to two incredibly specific concepts i love (bruce, in his grief, saying something harsh to robin!tim with disastrous consequences later + tim making a big secret sacrifice gambit) which are both done so so well, within a larger plot that is also done so so well. the way this fic cuts in and out of scenes at the exact right moments for max tension feels like a masterclass in causing me to tear my hair out (in the best way), and instead of assorted pangs reading it is just one big Pang. it currently leaves off on an agonizing cliffhanger but, again, in the best way. highly recommend. (thank you again @owlbats for the rec!)
exchange between me and my friend after i sent the link, which about sums it up:
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and to cut this angst with some humor:
IRIS Log #1548 by @deadchannelradio: a night on patrol as recorded by the bats’ audio logs, centering around red hood getting flung into a ditch and everyone, eventually, getting home safe.
one of the top ten funniest things i’ve ever read—spiritually up there with send to all (and if you’ve seen my fic rec tag you’ll know what a compliment that is). this makes use of the audio log format SO well. the dialogue shines, the jokes land with excellent timing, and it moves at such a clip that it’s pretty much impossible to stop reading once you’ve started. every character shines in this, and i’ve randomly choked on laughter remembering the phrase ‘good god he got thrown like a corn hole beanbag’ like twenty times in the past few weeks.
mid-reading testimonial:
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xo-cori · 10 months
Text
because second’s not the same
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pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader
summary: morals become blurred in a motel room with your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend.
warnings: smut (MDNI), comphet on reader’s end, internalized homophobia, lots of angst, cheating, sorry owen you seem cool, submissive top!abby ftw, hair pulling, fingersucking, facesitting, abby makes reader answer a call while getting down n dirty, they both hate men (real)
a/n: my first fic on this godforsaken app, hopefully it’s okay! this is based off of an old halsey song called “is there somewhere,” i highly recommend listening while you read
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When your phone chimes twice at exactly ten o’clock on a Friday night, your heartbeat quickens and the air is stolen from your lungs. Your body seems to know who it is before you do. Maybe that should concern you or serve as a reminder of how much of a problem this is becoming, but instead, you unlock your phone and read the much anticipated message.
abby: Hey
abby: What are you up to tonight??
you: hey, i was just reading a bit before bed
abby: Sounds like a real party
you: shut up lol
you: why do you ask?
abby: Don’t make me say it
you: i’m making you say it
There’s a hesitance on Abby’s side, made obvious by how the text bubble appears and disappears as she types and deletes a response. It takes her a good minute to send another message.
abby: Just wanted to know if you’d meet me
abby: Please
you: there we go. be there in 20
Before you know it, you’re driving fifteen miles over the speed limit, chest tight and craving a release that only Abby can bring. You eventually step out of your car and into the near-empty parking lot of the old motel that you’ve become awfully familiar with these past few weeks.
Your feet guide you along the farthest side of the building, straight towards a room marked ‘93,’ and you invite yourself in.
In less than five minutes, your shirts are on the floor and her hands are on your hips and god, her thigh feels so good between yours. She always seems to know exactly what you need. More importantly, she wastes no time with giving it to you.
“Fuck,” Abby says, “been waiting for this all week.”
You nod in agreement, lost in the way she grinds you onto her with seemingly no effort. She sighs contentedly when your back arches, chest pressing into hers, enveloping her in your warmth and melting away all the stress of a long day. There’s a piece of heaven in this room with her. How could she worry about anything outside of it?
“Me too,” you reply. One of your hands grasps at her shoulder in attempt to steady yourself, caressing the tense muscle, while the other gently tugs her hair. The dirty blonde strands feel like silk between your fingers and you can smell the pine shampoo that she uses. It invades all of your senses. It makes you desperate for more. So, you tug harder. Her head falls back against the headboard with a groan and you use it as an opening, diving in to press your lips to her neck.
It’s messy, just how Abby likes it. Her grip on you tightens and she lets out a broken gasp.
She needs this just as much as you do, if not more– but you’re much more generous with the teasing.
“Feel good?” You mumble into her throat, before picking another patch of skin to suckle on. Every touch sends a bolt of electricity up her spine and decorates her freckled skin with goosebumps.
Still, Abby does what she does best, and clings to any power she still has. You don’t resist when she grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you back onto the bed. In fact, you only spread your legs wider so she can situate herself between them. Then, without wasting another moment, her lips come crashing down onto yours.
It’s always your favorite part of the night; when she kisses you so passionately that you can almost fool yourself into thinking it means something.
This isn’t supposed to mean anything, though.
You assure yourself that the sparks you feel are all make-believe, silently wrestling with the fact that you’ve never once felt this with Owen. Not even close.
Her tongue quickly finds yours in a heated battle for dominance that she’s already lost. There’s no telling just how long this goes on for– you’re so focused on the feeling of her large hands running up and down your body, soothing all the shame you feel about this arrangement as you caress her cheek with your thumb.
It’s a loving gesture. Too loving, Abby thinks. She shouldn’t enjoy it so much, but she does.
When she pulls away, your half-lidded eyes land on the redness on her face, her swollen lips, her hair that’s all messy from your wandering fingers. The dim light from the bedside lamp casts a glow to one side of her face, and a shadow on the other. The thumb that was once on her cheek starts moving toward her mouth, until it pushes past her waiting lips and she accepts it with a pleased hum.
You watch her intently as you press down on the center of her tongue. Her brows furrow up and she lets out a whine.
After a few more moments, you pull your thumb from Abby’s mouth and smear her own saliva across her lips. She opens her eyes to look down at you, finally, and you offer a warm smile. “You just take it.” You observe aloud. “Whatever I want, you just let it happen.”
It’s a stark difference from your relationship with Owen. There’s never any concern for what you want; though, to be honest, you wouldn’t be in a relationship with him if you could get actually get what you want. It’d be Abby’s apartment you go to every weekend. There’d be no motel and no deleted messages and no acting like mere acquaintances when Owen gets all of his friends together, including her and you.
If you could get what you wanted, you don’t think you’d ever want anything else ever again.
“Yeah.” She agrees, slightly muffled until you fully pull your hand away. “Whatever you want.”
Part of you feels bad. You have this woman wrapped around your finger, and you have to act like it’s nothing more than a convenience.
In reality, it’s everything to you.
So, the other part of you plans to take whatever you can from her.
“You really mean that?” You ask.
“Would I lie to you?” She asks in return.
You pat her cheek. “Lay down, then.”
Without another word, Abby does as she’s told. The two of you switch positions and she watches you peel off the rest of your clothes, while she lays in a grey sports bra and a pair of boxers.
She starts to feel excited when she thinks you’ll move down further like usual, your face nestled between her legs until you’re pulling orgasm from orgasm out of her.
Her heart nearly stops, though, when she sees you pull off your own panties and begin crawling up her body.
‘Excited’ doesn’t do it justice. You’ve hardly done anything and she already feels like she might die of happiness.
You feel her hands grab your ass, encouraging you to move much faster than you are, and you hesitantly oblige. “You can push me off if you need to, yeah?” You clarify. “Don’t wanna suffocate you or anything.”
Abby nods with a quiet mm-hmm only to appease you, but in her mind, suffocating to death while you sit on her face would be an honor. She’d probably die beneath you before the thought of pushing you off ever crosses her mind. For now, though, you do your best to be gentle as she ushers you to fully hover over her mouth.
Then, she pulls you down onto it.
A strangled moan escapes you when her tongue immediately finds its target, her patience clearly worn thin as she latches to your clit. Your hands fly down to grab her hair in attempt to ground yourself, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you’re having an out-of-body experience.
The worst part? Only Abby can make you feel this way.
Guilty, and so, so good.
Maybe she doesn’t know the extent of your feelings, but she knows your body like the back of her hand, and she uses that to her advantage. Her fingers dig into the pillowy flesh above your hip bones, surely hard enough to leave a few bruises, but you never complain about marks until you see them in the morning.
“Abs,” you manage breathlessly, “ease up, baby–”
You’re cut off by another moan as she somehow manages to pull you down further, unrelenting and making it impossible for you to escape. Not that you’d want to, anyways. So, you just grab her hair with one hand and grab the headboard with the other as your eyes flutter shut.
That is, until you hear your phone vibrate on the bedside table. Once, twice, three times; you soon realize that it isn’t stopping.
“Fuck.” You groan.
Abby looks up at you and slightly moves you down so she can speak, seemingly much more entertained by this than you. “Who’s calling?”
“It’s Owen,” you say truthfully, “I was supposed to go over to his place tonight, but here we are.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, you blew him off for me?”
“No shit. I’ll just silence it and pretend I fell asleep.” You grumble. Then, you reach over to grab the phone before she takes a hold of your wrist.
“Answer it.” She says.
You can’t help but laugh despite the forming pit of anxiety in your stomach, because you know that she’s dead serious. “What?”
“You heard me. Answer it or I’ll stop.” She repeats, making your eyes widen.
“…Fine, but can you please—” You’re interrupted by Abby pressing the green button for you, and you quickly bring the phone towards your ear.
The sound of Owen’s voice makes your chest feel tight. “Hey,” he says with an obvious concern in his voice. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
You open your mouth to respond, but you can only let out a gasp when you feel Abby’s lips wrap around your clit. Thankfully, her tongue moves more slowly than before, deciding to show you some mercy. “Yeah,” you breathe, “yeah, I fell asleep– I’m sorry, I really don’t feel good today. Think I might’ve caught something.”
It’s a pathetic excuse, but you can only hope he buys it. “Oh, that’s… uh, not good.” He mumbles, which makes you roll your eyes. “Do you want me to bring anything to your place? I have this cold medicine that could literally heal the bubonic plague, and I’m pretty sure I have some soup in one of these cabinets somewhere,”
You can hear him rummaging around on the other line. “No!” You blurt out. The last thing you need is Owen stopping by just to find out that you aren’t home. “No, I’m okay. Appreciate it, though.”
“You sure? If you’re worried about me getting sick, I can just leave it outside the door.” He continues.
“Really, Owen, it’s fine. Pretty sure I’ll feel better in the morning,” you assure him.
He sighs. “Whatever you say. Just let me know if you change your mind, okay? I’ll bring whatever you need.”
He’s kind. Too kind, considering your current situation. Abby’s mouth is latched to the most sensitive parts of you, her blue eyes staring up at you as you try your hardest to keep your voice steady. She kneads at the back of your thighs, getting you into a rhythm while you rut against her tongue.
All the while, you’re on the phone with a man who deserves much better. You’re aware of this. You tilt your head back with a shaky sigh.
“Okay,” you reply, “thanks, Owen. ‘Night.”
You don’t even wait for him to say it back before you hang up the phone, quickly throwing it off of the bed onto the carpeted floor. Abby smiles, and you can feel it. You reach down to grab a handful of her hair and pull it as hard as you can– which isn’t very hard, but it still makes her whine. “Fuck you,” you huff, thighs tensing on either side of her head, “I’m so close, Abs.”
Any annoyance you feel is overshadowed by the orgasm creeping up on you much quicker than usual. You already know that you’ll never forgive yourself for being so turned on by something so horrible.
Abby sticks her tongue out so that you can ride it, letting out moans of encouragement as you finally tip over the edge. Your mouth falls open and a gush of wetness fills Abby’s, which she happily laps up with her warm tongue. Her hands wander over your shivering body, listening to your muffled moans with her eyes trained on your face; more specifically, the tears that begin to run down your cheeks.
It doesn’t take much longer for you to crawl off of her face and crash into the bed beneath you, much to Abby’s dismay, but she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she crawls to your side, placing a strong arm over your stomach so she can pull you closer.
Though all of your instincts scream to push her away, you just curl into her and bury your face in the crook of her neck. She thinks maybe, just maybe, everything is fine; of course, until she hears you let out a quiet sob. One of her hands comes up to rub your back, a soothing gesture that only makes you cry harder.
“Hey,” Abby whispers, “are you… did I do something wrong? Was it the phone thing? ‘Cause if it is, I’m really sorry, I should’ve—”
“It isn’t that.” You mutter.
It’s only a half-lie. Honestly, you aren’t crying because you spoke to your boyfriend as if you weren’t hooking up with his ex, no. You’re crying because you thought it was the hottest thing ever.
“Isn’t it, though?” She questions. “Seriously, I fucked up and I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t fuck up, Abs– I swear, it’s not you, it’s just… this. All of this. I don’t like it.” You do your best to reassure her, but it only causes more confusion.
“What, and you think I do? Because I don’t. I like you, though, so I deal with it. That’s what we agreed to.” Abby says. You can tell she’s upset no matter how gentle her voice is. There’s a certain bite to it, a venom that you’re quick to pick up on. “He’s my friend too, you know. This isn’t easy for me either.”
This comment makes you rear back a bit, looking up at her with furrowed brows. “I know that, Abby. None of this is easy for either of us. He’s my boyfriend, and he was yours at one point, too.”
“Don’t remind me,” she scoffs.
You give her a stern look. “I’m serious. This is gonna end one way or another. Someone’s gonna find out.”
Her grip on your waist tightens. “No one’s gonna find out if we don’t let them find out.”
“You don’t know that.” You shake your head. “All it takes is one fuck up.”
“So, what do you wanna do? You wanna break this off now and go back to being acquaintances?” Abby asks, voice raised defensively.
“Obviously not!” You yell, sitting up and dragging the comforter along so you can cover yourself. “I love you, Abby. I love being with you and talking to you and—”
“Don’t fuckin’ say that.” She interrupts you, which is probably for the better.
It’s different for Abby, being one of Owen’s closest friends, because he’s unaware of how well she knows you and so he feels comfortable confiding in her about your relationship. A big problem he seems to have is that you’ve never once said the word love. Not to him, at least. Not about him.
Yet, here you are, throwing that word around just for her.
She wants to feel honored, but she finds herself only feeling guilt. The kind that makes her throat tighten and her heart drop.
You groan in frustration. “But it’s true!”
“So make it untrue!” She shouts back. “You can’t just… say shit like that, and expect me to be okay with it. You’re supposed to love Owen.”
A confession bubbles up in your chest, one that you know you should shake away, but your mouth moves before your brain can catch up. “But I don’t.” You mumble. “I want to. I just can’t.”
Abby stares at you like she’s seen a ghost. All conversations she’s had with Owen about you– ones about how he’d propose to you someday, wondering if you’d want to have kids, asking if it was too early on in the relationship to think about saving for a house– they all become null. The worst part? Abby thinks she might know exactly how you feel. “You can’t? What does that mean?” She asks.
“Exactly what it sounds like.” You reply. “I try, but I can’t. We go on dates, and the whole time, I’m just waiting for it to be over. We watch a movie together, and I pretend to fall asleep so he doesn’t try anything. It’s exhausting, Abby. None of it feels right. Every single fucking guy I’ve been with– it never feels right. The only relief has been you.”
Abby listens to your rant with a blank expression, reaching up to wipe some stray tears from your cheeks with her thumb. “So, you’re gay.” She says.
You quickly grab her wrist and shove her hand away. “I’m not gay.” You hiss.
She sighs. “You just sat on my face. You’re a little gay.”
“Okay, fine, maybe a little!” You throw your hands up defensively. “But I don’t like other women. I like you.”
Truthfully, it’s all too much for Abby to take in at once; she does her best to appear, knowing her best bet is to calm you down, but she can’t imagine how much it would break Owen to know this. To know that he’s now been left by two women due to a sexuality crisis. Would he think it’s his fault? Would he guess that Abby had something to do with it? She likes you too, maybe more than she knows, but it’s an impossible situation.
When you’re met with silence on Abby’s end, you continue. “You’re gonna think I’m horrible for this, but it’s true; I’ve been waiting for him to fuck up so I have a reason to leave him. Some nights, he tells me he’s going to a party and I’ll go to sleep hoping I wake up to a text from Manny about how Owen got a little too drunk and some girl looked enough like me,” you shrug, “I’ve had that scenario in my head for weeks. It’s so convenient.”
“You’re fucked up,” Abby shakes her head, “fantasizing about him cheating while you’re sleeping with his friend? Jesus.”
“But it’s true, right? Then I could just leave him. No goodbye, no nothing. I’d give him all his sweatshirts back and let him see me wearing yours instead.” You say, and she immediately recognizes that tone in your voice. Something dark, something you put on when you know what you want and you’re set on getting it.
It hurts to hear you talk about her friend like he’s nothing more than an obstacle. It hurts even more to know that, deep down, she’d felt the exact same way once.
Wishing he’d leave her, knowing that he never would.
“Yeah.” She huffs, now visibly doing her best to avoid eye contact. Her eyes skitter around the room and it doesn’t take long for you to regret speaking your mind. “That sounds like an easy way out, but you should know by now that there’s nothing easy about being with Owen. Nothing’s easy about cheating, either.”
You nod in agreement. There’s a heavy silence after that, one that leaves you both staring down and biting your cheeks and feeling like all your sins had been laid out in front of you. The weight of it all is overbearing, but still so worth it.
“It’s easier with you,” you mutter after a minute, “and I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel the same.”
“I wouldn’t.” Abby agrees, deciding to leave it at that. “Do you… uh, do you wanna stay the night? Here, with me?”
Finally, your eyes meet hers, and she hates the way this simple action reignites the spark inside of her. You tilt your head. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t really return the favor, huh?”
Her jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as she fights back a smile. She shouldn’t be so infatuated with you– your every movement, every word– but she is.
The smile escapes her efforts and she shakes her head. “No. No, you didn’t.”
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sagesolsticewrites · 2 months
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Kiss Me Once
The moment you’ve been anxiously awaiting is finally here— your boyfriend Rosie Rosenthal finally arrives home.
(hi @hellfirequinnie @justheretoreadthxxs @ronsenthal @storysimp)
a/n: hugest of huge shoutouts to Winnie (@winniemaywebber) and Gina (@ginabaker1666) for letting me yell about this fic 24/7, not to mention darling Marina’s (@precious-little-scoundrel) spicy Rosie headcanons which played a huge part in the inspiration for this fic (as well as the future parts I have planned 👀) 💕
Warnings: mentions of death (brief mention of death of a parent, war deaths), mentions of sex, Rosie being a tease 👀, definite historical inaccuracies, if there’s anything else y’all would like me to tag, please let me know!
Word count: 3k
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
Masterlist
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You pace around the foyer of the Rosenthal apartment impatiently.
Your boyfriend, Robert, was coming home after several long years of war, and he was already ten minutes late.
He had insisted on meeting you all at the apartment instead of greeting him as he got off the train— something sweet about wanting to walk into his home and see you all there— but his train had gotten in on time, so where—
“Y/N, he’ll be here honey,” his mother says gently, exchanging a look with his sister from her place in the kitchen where she’s preparing a spread of Rosie’s favorite foods, “You know how the traffic is, especially today.”
“I know, I know,” you nod, your nervous pacing slowing the tiniest bit, “But he said—”
Your worries are interrupted by a knock on the door, and suddenly you’re frozen in place.
“Well? You gonna answer it?” his sister teases, gesturing at the door.
“But—” You glance between his family and the door, conflicted.
“He’s had enough of us fussing over him,” his mother pipes up, moving to stand next to her daughter, “We all know who he’s really here to see,” she adds with a teasing smile.
You glance down with a smile, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away before you move to finally fling the door open.
It truly doesn’t seem real, the sight that greets you as the door opens.
Robert stands there, dapper in his dress uniform, curls neat, hat tucked neatly under his arm.
He blinks in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting you to be the one who opened the door, but the shock on his face is quickly replaced with a wide grin.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi,” you gasp as you’re pulled into his arms for a tight hug, burying your face in his neck as he presses a kiss to your temple.
“Missed you so much,” he murmurs softly in your ear before pulling away to take in your face, eyes scanning over your features as if to make sure everything was the same as he remembered.
You do the same, clocking one very noticeable change.
“What’s this?” You laugh, gesturing to your own top lip.
His fingers move self-consciously to the mustache that definitely wasn’t there when he left for flight school.
“Oh yeah, uh… remember I told you I started tryin’ to grow one back in training? Well… it turned into this,” He laughs, meeting your eyes anxiously, “What do you think?”
You rise up into your tiptoes to peck his lips, “I think you look very handsome, my love.”
His hand cups your cheek as you pull away, bringing you back in for a long, tender kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours after so long, but the rosy spell the two of you are under is quickly broken by his sister pointedly clearing her throat, ignoring her mother’s scolding look at her interruption.
“Wow, Rosie,” she teases as the two of you break apart, “it’s nice to see that you remembered we’re here too.”
“That’s the best welcome you’ve got for your big brother, Jeanie?” He rolls his eyes playfully, unable to hide his smile as he gives you one last squeeze and goes to greet his family.
“Hi, Ma,” he says, voice thick as he embraces his mother for the first time in far too long.
She clings to him in a long, fierce hug, and he returns it just as fiercely until his sister tackles him from the side.
Rosie lets out an oof, quickly adjusting so he has both of them in an embrace.
The four of you sit down for dinner, conversation flowing nonstop. Even with the frequent letters back and forth, Rosie still had plenty to tell you about his life in England, and his family still had plenty to catch him up on.
As his sister is rambling about work, his hand comes to rest on your knee. Still respectable, of course, but the warmth emanating from him makes it difficult to focus on anything else.
As the night continues, you nearly drop your fork into your mashed potatoes when his hand glides ever so slightly up your leg, slipping just underneath the hem of your skirt. He maintains a straight face, wide grin barely flickering as he teases his sister about the crush she inadvertently mentioned, all while his fingers remain indecently close to your core.
His mother is in the middle of filling him in on all the neighborhood gossip when your glass of water comes very close to slipping out of your hand. You catch it in time, mumbling an excuse about being oddly clumsy tonight, when all you can think about are the featherlight patterns Rosie is tracing on the inside of your thigh.
You shoot a glare at him when his mother and sister are distracted, which he meets with a smile, eyes sparkling with mirth, heat simmering just underneath.
Somehow you manage to fumble through the rest of dinner, contributing with simple nods or “mm hm”s as Rosie’s presence next to you overwhelms your mind. As the meal finishes— complete with a mouthwatering cherry pie— Rosie stands and begins gathering plates. You and his mother stand simultaneously to do the same.
“Ma, please sit down,” Rosie insists gently, “I got it.”
As she opens her mouth to protest, he simply shakes his head.
“It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to do this, yeah? Let me help out. Please.”
Eyes softening at the mention of his being away for so long, she relents, and the two of you gather the remaining dishes.
Mrs. Rosenthal and her daughter move to the living room, soft jazz drifting through the apartment as they turn on the radio while you and Rosie work like a well-oiled machine washing and drying dishes. Er… mostly.
“Robbie!” You yelp as he splashes water up towards you, holding your rag up as a shield. You laugh, retaliating with a reckless swing of the still-damp dishrag.
What follows is a playful water fight where miraculously neither of you get too wet, but does end with you pinned between Rosie and the kitchen counter, his lips moving greedily against yours.
You let out a soft squeal as he pulls away briefly to scatter kisses all over your face and neck, mustache brushing against your skin.
“Robbie, that tickles!”
You can feel him grinning as his lips land on yours once more.
“I missed hearing you laugh.” he murmurs between kisses as his hands wander freely over your dress, “Missed you so, so much, honey.”
“I missed you, too,” you sigh as you reluctantly pull away for air, thumb stroking along his cheekbone as you take him in: mustache and all.
“When you re-enlisted, I—”
You take a breath, forcing back the sudden tears that threaten to spill over.
“I was so scared,” you admit softly, “So incredibly proud of you, of course, because I know that’s who you are: you don’t come home until the fight’s over. But so many people were getting those damn Western Union telegrams telling them that their sons or brothers or friends wouldn’t be coming home, and I couldn’t stand the thought of being one of them.” Your voice trembles, and you take a shaky breath in, pressing your forehead to his, “I couldn’t stand the thought of being without you.”
“Honey,” he says softly, nudging your noses together ever so gently so you meet his eyes, “I love you.”
Those words hang in the air for a heartbeat, words that you had only been able to read in his letters for the past two years, words that you hadn’t heard aloud in far, far too long.
“I love you,” he repeats softly, firmly, the words like an oath on his lips, “and I hated the thought of making you and Ma and Jeanie worry, but… but what I hated more was the thought of going back home when there was still so much evil out there. And the kids who were coming in to replace us… that’s it, they were just kids. I couldn’t leave in good conscience knowing that some teenager was gonna be taking my place in the sky and wasn’t gonna make it home because of me. I saw it happen too many times, and I couldn’t—”
He shakes his head, swallows, and meets your eyes again with a soft smile.
“But I’m home now. And I’m not leaving you anytime soon, yeah?”
He leans in for a tender kiss, one that has you melting down to your toes as he pulls you into his arms, swaying ever so slightly.
“Dance with me, honey? I know it’s no Minton’s,” he chuckles, “But it’ll do.”
He holds you close, twirling you around the kitchen with your head resting on his shoulder as Kitty Kallen’s voice drifts in from the living room, Rosie singing along softly in your ear.
Kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It's been a long, long time
He always claimed that his ma and Jeanie got all the musical talent, but you loved to hear him sing in the rare moments you got to. You loved it even more in this moment because it meant that he was here. He was home. He was safe. And he was with you.
You stay wrapped in his arms for the duration of the song, and as it fades into the next one— Glen Miller’s crooning “At Last”— he whispers into your ear once more.
“What would you say,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning over your neck, “if I asked you to meet me in my room tonight?”
You pull back to meet his eyes, to make sure you understand his meaning. You see a slight nervousness there, tinged with longing, and just below that, a simmering heat that sparks an ember deep in your core.
The two of you had been, er… intimate before. Several times, actually (the fire escape outside his window that happened to also lead to your room in the apartment upstairs made for an excellent escape from both fires and nosy parents wondering what those noises were in the middle of the night), and each time had you seeing stars— sometimes literally if he felt like sneaking you up onto the roof with a blanket on one of the rare clear nights in New York— and longing for the next one. The letters you wrote alternated between sweet and rather scorching when you happened to be in a mood, each of you divulging your fantasies over the years you were apart, hoping to fulfill them when he came home in one piece.
“I’d say,” you murmur, “that I’d love to.”
That bright grin spreads across his face again, lighting him up from the inside out.
“Good,” he says softly, “because I wanna have a proper reunion with my girl.”
His hands slide down to rest low on your hips, pulling you that much closer as his lips seal over yours for a kiss that has butterflies swarming in your belly.
You lose yourself in the feeling of his hands on you, of his lips on yours, in the taste of him— even the utterly foreign (though not unpleasant) feeling of his mustache grazing against your skin has you wanting more, wanting to make up for the time you lost when he was an ocean away.
Something— maybe the crackle of the radio switching stations, maybe some small noise outside, maybe the remnants of the proper girl you should be— brings you back to reality all too soon, and suddenly you’re pulling away and looking up at him regretfully as you remind him:
“Your mother’s probably wondering what’s taking so long.”
He lets out a playful groan, barely heard over the radio as his head slumps onto your shoulder.
“You’re probably right,” he sighs, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he begins fixing up his appearance; attempting to get his hair to lay flat from where your fingers had raked through it, wiping away your bright red lipstick smeared around his mouth, “Let’s go.”
Once you’ve reapplied your lipstick and made an attempt to fix your rumpled clothes and hair, he leads you back into the living room where his mother and sister are lounging in the armchairs next to the radio.
“Sorry, Ma,” he says, cheeky grin firmly back in place as the two of you settle on the loveseat nearby, “Had to squeeze in a dance with my girl.”
You bite back a squeak of surprise as his hand— out of sight of his mother and sister— drifts dangerously low on your hip to give you a playful squeeze, all while maintaining that trademark sparkling Rosenthal grin.
“You two are so sweet,” his mother coos, and you can’t help the shy smile creeping onto your face as you lean into Rosie.
Nor can you help the laugh you let out when you see Rosie sticking his tongue out at Jeanie, presumably in retaliation for the disgusted look on her face.
“Robert,” she scolds, “Be nice to your sister.”
“But Ma—”
“And Jeanette,” she turns to his sister with a rare use of her full name, “Your brother just came home, I won’t have you teasing him for wanting to spend time with Y/N.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but shuts it at her mother’s raised eyebrow.
“Sorry, Robert,” she grumbles stiltedly.
When his mother’s eyes flick to him, Rosie mumbles in the same stilted way.
“Sorry, Jeanie.”
“Thank you,” his mother says crisply, “Now— oh, honey, did I tell you…”
Mrs. Rosenthal somehow has even more neighborhood gossip to tell Rosie, and Jeanie has plenty of questions for her brother about life in England. He happily listens and regales them with stories, his animated way of speaking distracting his family from the way his hand rests on your thigh in plain sight. You should nudge him away, slip your hand into his, do something to make it look more innocent… but you don’t want him to stop tracing patterns onto your thigh over your dress, working his way up and down and back again in a way that makes it very difficult to focus on anything else.
He slips his hand away, a jolt of disappointment running through you at the lack of warmth, just in time for his mother to turn her attention to you.
“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m going to make some tea before we all head to bed, would you like some?”
You politely decline, as you have for the past nearly two years.
It was just you, your father, and your brother after your mother passed when you were four, and when they both enlisted after the Pearl Harbor attack, Mrs. Rosenthal was kind enough to let you, as her daughter's close friend and her son’s girlfriend, temporarily move into her guest room. They were currently somewhere on a boat in the Pacific, and though you were able to send letters back and forth, it was a sporadic way of communicating, and each day you prayed that they would come home safe like your Robbie had.
Jeanette busies herself with the book she had been reading, and Robbie takes the small moment you have for yourselves to pull you close and press a sweet kiss to your cheek, mindful of his sister in the room.
“What was that for?” You ask, grinning. It seems you haven’t stopped smiling since he walked in the door a few hours ago. 
“Just because,” he shrugs, a returning grin brightening his face, “I’m home, and I’m with my girl, and I can give her kisses anytime I want to.”
You don’t think it’s possible for your smile to grow any wider, but it does.
After pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, Rosie turns to his sister.
“Oh, Jeanie, I got you somethin’ while I was over there. Wanted to send it over, but I figured it’d be better if I gave it to you in person.”
He goes over to his pack and rummages around until he produces a small paperback.
“I found this in a bookshop when I was on one of my weekend passes, thought it seemed like something you’d like. Written by a woman, too, isn’t that something,” he says, handing her the copy of Green Dolphin Country, “Happy belated birthday, little sis. Hopefully this makes up a little for the ones I wasn’t here for.”
Oh goodness, your cheeks are starting to hurt, but you can’t stop smiling seeing Jeanie light up at the book. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Jeanie squeals, jumping up to squeeze her brother tight. He returns the hug fiercely, and your heart melts when you see him blinking back tears.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, bright grin back in place as she pulls away to devour his gift, adding teasingly, “Y’know, I heard it ends with—”
“No spoilers!” Jeanie whines.
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Rosie holds his hands up in surrender, “Just tell me how it ends, promise?”
His little sister beams up at him, looking much younger than her actual age of 22.
“Promise.”
Mrs. Rosenthal returns with a tray bearing three mugs of tea, and night winds down with tea and books and soft chatter as one by one you all retire to your separate rooms.
Rosie shoots you a wink, hand drifting dangerously low on your back as he escorts you to your room before heading for his own just across the hall, leaving a lingering kiss on your lips that has you pleading for time to move faster, for his mother and Jeanie to fall asleep quickly so you can meet him without fear of waking them.
You slip into your favorite nightgown— a thin, filmy thing, one Rosie hasn’t seen before— and begin watching the clock as the wait for your agreed meeting time of 12:30 begins.
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Abs Sans Brain
Top Gun: Maverick - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x f!pilotreader [no use of y/n]
2.6k || Your date with Jake at the Hard Deck is crashed by the rest of the squad.
==== Genre: Fluffy, flirty, and funky
CW: Swearing, drinking
Author’s Note: I’m writing this before I start writing the fic itself. I’m shooting for 600 - 800 words. Please laugh at me when we see how wrong I end up being. Oh, and the reader is best friends with Bob because I said so. || cross-posted on ao3
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There were very few things you had asked for in life. Good health, good people, and the entire sky at your disposal. A small list, if a bit demanding. One thing you hadn’t been expecting when you’d asked for the Heavens was all those who came with it. In particular, Jake Seresin, who slid into the booth across from you. Beers in hand, grin in place.
“Come here often, doll?”
You roll your eyes at him. A movement that does little to hide the smile blooming across your lips. “I can’t believe I ever let that line work on me.”
“In your defense,” he said, taking a long swig of his beer. “The first time I used that line, we were thousands of feet in the sky. It’s where I’m at my most irresistible.”
“Ah, yes. That must have been it. Everywhere else you’re just insufferable.” You laughed and took a significantly smaller sip of your beer. It’s your second one in ten minutes. “If I didn’t know you any better, Seresin, I’d say you’re trying to get me drunk here.”
“Tryin’?” he scoffed, “and you say you know me.”
The unfortunate thing about this whole situation was that you did know Jake. You knew him well, better than Coyote. You knew his favorite color was yellow. That’s why it had been put in his helmet. (He’d also left off the ‘a’ in his helmet because the idea of filling it in to say ‘Hungman’ fit his sixth grade sense of humor). You knew he over-exaggerated his southern drawl whenever you walked into a room because you’d once drunkenly admitted to him that hearing him talk flooded your mind with dirty thoughts. You knew Jake’s mind was fifty percent dirty thoughts, twenty-five percent sky, twenty percent you, five percent ways to school you at cards and five percent cheeky comebacks he was sitting on to annoy the rest of the squad with. And, most disheartening of all, you knew Jake was not a romantic.
It didn’t bother him that date night was a few beers, fried food, and a game of pool. It didn’t bother you either. Not entirely, but you were hoping for one night where you could dress up nice and go out somewhere fancy. Somewhere along the lines of joining the military and ending up at TOPGUN the line of being feminine had been blurred. Commanders couldn’t understand why you’d want to put on a bit of mascara to fly a plane. In the same stretch of imagination, Hangman seemingly couldn’t put it together that you’d like a bit of romance in your life beyond the cheesy pickup lines and pet names.
If you could add anything to your list of ‘good health, good people, and the entire sky’ it would be a few nice dates. You’d say nothing fancy, but you wouldn’t mean it. You wanted fancy. Even if it was just to realize that fancy is actually not what you wanted at all. Something to change up the pace of playing pool with Jake and being hit on by him like you were his latest conquest and not his girlfriend of six months.
Part of you felt like you were being slightly unfair.
“Your turn, doll,” Jake said, but when you went to pass in front of him he grabbed you by your belt loop. He pulled you back towards him, matching your laugh, and captured your lips with his.
Moments like these almost had you convinced that maybe you could push those selfish date ideas off to the side. Jake liked showing off. He liked being able to flirt with you in a place where you could laugh loudly and no one would look at you weird. He liked being able to slip out the back door to walk down the beach with you under the stars.
“If it’s my turn,” you said between kisses, “then let me shoot the ball.”
Reluctantly, he let go of your waist and you positioned yourself to sink yet another ball into the pocket. You planned to kick his ass in an embarrassingly short amount of time to get the pettiness out of your system, then enjoy your night together.
Except for the fact that the front bell chimed, and familiar shouts filled the bar. Familiar because you’d heard them less than an hour ago. You considered altering your list once more. ‘Good people who knew when not to come get a drink.’
“Hangman!” Payback shouted across the bar. “Rack ‘em up. Rooster was just telling me how the two of you ended in a tie game last week.”
Jake’s laughter filled your ears. He still had a hand on the small of your back, but his attention was entirely on your group of friends trailing through the door. “Chicken doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. I smoked his ass.”
“I’d like to see you put your money where your mouth is, Seresin. Unless you’re still broke from the last time I kicked your ass.”
Rooster headed over to the pool table followed closely by Fanboy and Coyote. Payback, scribbling in a notebook, hung back for a moment. Then opened his mouth to edge the tension on a bit more. You knew your date night had been pushed aside, so you took it upon yourself to step off to the side yourself.
Phoenix smiled at you, waving, and tilted her head. “I thought you guys were on a date?” She asked. You shot her a look that said ‘We’ll talk later.’ Natasha let out a laugh. “Sorry. Look, I’ll get you something strong to drink.”
“Make it a double!” You called out after her as she made her way over to the bar where she’d be trapped by millions of questions from Penny. The sound of your name, your government name, being called by a certain southern drawl caught your attention. “Yes, love?” You asked, hoping that your boyfriend was about to make an unexpected promise that the two of you could leave after one game.
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Jake nudged you softly with his shoulder then threw his head over in Bradley’s direction. “We can always just ask the peanut squad to leave. The small man will only get so much smaller when I whoop his ass for the hundredth time”
Rooster stiffens, almost to attention. He holds the pool cue next to him. Straight and tall. “I’m taller than you are, Bagman.”
It had become a trend of sorts to refer to Jake with various insults that fell so effortlessly from Bob’s mouth. You had tried your hardest to resist, out of solidarity for your boyfriend, some of the nicknames were too creative to avoid… and it gave you an excuse to make Jake try and draw his true name from your lips.
“I wasn’t referring to that kind of height, Chick.”
“C’mon, Jake,” you whine, “can you please just be the polite Jake I know you to be?”
“Oxymoron!” Rooster calls from across the pool table to which Jake whirls around and says, “What the fuck did you just call me?”
You shoot a glare in Bradley’s direction. “Seriously?” Out of the corner of your eye you see Payback pulling that same little notebook out of his pocket to make a mark. You turn on him. “And what the hell are you doing?”
He turns the page towards you. On it in crude, unintelligible handwriting is what you can only assume to be two columns labeled “Hangman” and “Rooster” with a series of ticks beneath them. Jake in the lead by a long shot. “I like to keep track.”
In the corner, you noticed when you squinted to read the handwriting, was a third little box. Completely full of ticks. “Who is that?”
“Bob,” Payback said at the same time Bob said, “Mine.”
You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Jake. “Can I talk to you?”
Your tone is enough to etch worry on his face. He set his pool cue against the table, grabbed you by the waist, and pulled you off to the side. “What’s wrong, doll?”
“This isn’t a date.” The whiny lit to your voice didn’t make you feel the most sexy, but you’d tried seducing Jake to go to a movie so the two of you could make out in the dark instead and that hadn’t worked. Pouting was your last resort. “Every time we go on a date, they show up. They’re like fleas!”
“At least fleas can do tricks.” Jake turned to look over his shoulder. “Rooster can’t even hit a ball straight.”
“Jake, I’m being serious. Why won’t you just take me on a date? A real one.”
“Look, pretty girl, I’ll make a deal with you.”
You side-eyed him, unconvinced, and sighed. “Lucky me.”
“Play me in darts. I win, we stay and hang out with everyone. Lord knows Rooster and Phoenix need to be humbled in pool. Plus, you’re the only one here who can get Bob to do enough shots to start doing karaoke.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I know how much you love his drunk renditions of ‘Sweet Caroline.’”
Jake had a point. There had been one night - shockingly, another date night at the Hard Deck turned into a group activity - where you went to sulk in a booth while your schmooze of a boyfriend fueled his bromance with Coyote, Rooster, and Payback. Bob, still not the biggest partier, had grown tired of the swapping insults over darts and was worn out from dodging Phoenix and Fanboy’s attempts to get him to dance with them. So he’d ended up in the booth across from you.
You’d been pounding back shots of tequila like they were water. “He’s stupid,” you had slurred to Bob, “but you’re not stupid. You’re fun. Here, do a shot with me. Let’s be fun.”
He would tell you the next day that he had only intended to do one shot but one turned into two which turned into four which turned into Bob unplugging the jukebox to sing a melody of songs from your Grandma’s playlist with impressive range. After each one he would make sure to point you out of the gathering crowd of dazzled patrons. “This one’s for her!” He’d shout in dedication and start up singing again.
It hadn’t been a bad night then, and, even though you’d never admit it to Jake, you had a lot of fun. Tonight would be the same if you could let yourself stop moping long enough to enjoy it. But there was still the matter of:
“What if I win?” You ask. Competition was the reason you were here on the West Coast to begin with. You were the best of the best because you refused to let anyone else get the upper hand on you. “What do I get then, Seresin?”
“If you win,” Jake said, slowly kneading your hips with his hands. “I will take you out on another date - a fancy one. With roses and the opening of doors and the biggest bottle of wine this nice restaurant downtown has to offer. I’ll dress up and give you the most romantic night of your life. But tonight we’ll stay here and do everything we’d do anyway if I had win.”
“If I win.”
“If you win… but you won’t.”
He didn’t have to say it for you to know it was true. He threw darts the same way he flew planes: with deadly precision. There was a reason Hangman was the only one out of everyone in their generation with two confirmed kills. He could land a shot with his eyes closed. In the air and with two feet planted firmly on the hardwood floors of the Hard Deck.
“That’s not fair at all.”
“I don’t make the rules, sweet thing.” That stupid smirk was back on his face. The two of you hadn’t made it back to your booth yet for appetizers, otherwise there’d surely be a toothpick rolling between those lips of his too.  “C’mon, we’ll make it easy. Three darts each. Most points win.”
“That’s not how you play darts, Jake. Even I know that.”
“Bagman,” Payback called out, “what are you doing, the balls are racked?”
You went to grab the darts from the board as Jake said, “Kicking my girl’s ass in darts as a warm up for kicking your sorry asses in every game after.”
“Ladies first,” you gestured, mimicking his smug smirk. He glared playfully at you but stepped up to throw the first dart in a movement almost too quick for you to see. A perfect bullseye. “Show off.”
“Got to put some skin in the game.” Jake moved you in front of him. His hands gripping your waist to hold you in place as he pressed kisses to your neck. “I like your skin better, darlin’.”
You shooed him away. The dart felt heavy in your hand. Screwing this up would essentially be throwing away your only sure shot at the date of your dreams. You lifted your arm and threw the dart. It flew, fitting itself snugly into the single bull.
Jake’s turn. He moved just as quickly as the first time, but the angle he shot at landed the dart in a single scoring 18. Winning was still well within your grasp. A decent date was inching closer and closer.
Your turn. A deep steady breath. This dart felt weightless. An extension of yourself. You throw the dart in a less fluid motion than Jake, but manage to stick it in the bullseye right next to his.
“Look at that!” You shouted, pointing and jumping. Joy overwhelmed you not just because you were currently winning, but because this had been the first bullseye you’d made without Jake helping you in the slightest. He’d likely still claim this victory as his. It was his silly deal that made you so determined in the first place.
Jake’s final turn. He still had the chance to put you in the dust. Your eyes were glued to the board, but the dart never came. When you turned to look at him, Jake threw the dart at the ground. “You win,” he said, but you shook your head. Eyes back to the board. You won even without throwing this last dart.
You snapped your head in his direction, ready to call him out for cheating, but you were cut off by Jake’s lips crashing onto yours. He pulled away quickly, muttered a small, “You really think I’d deny you anything, doll?” then rushed off to join the restless group at the pool table. Leaving you to glance from the stray dart stuck in the floor and the man you were beginning to fall for at the pool table.
Phoenix saddled up next to you, drink in hand, and passed one over to you. “What did he promise you if you won?”
“A real date.”
“The fancy one with all that inspiration you’ve been sending me on Pintrest.”
“That’s the one.”
She let out a low whistle. “Wow, and I thought he loved you just by the way he looked at you, but this is something else. He’s smitten.”
“I guess I have that effect on some people,” you said and hid your giddy grin with a sip of your drink. “Did you ask Penny to get the tequila shots ready?”
“The real question is if we’re ready to hear Bob signing.”
This might just be one of your favorite dates yet.
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