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#need him to break my back like a glow stick
sky-is-the-limit · 6 months
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Now that I'm thinking about it, Alejandro was kinda overdramatic cause if that man took over my base, I'd also give him my house, car, my men to detain, my 3 holes to fill-
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shotmrmiller · 19 days
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simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.
gambling's illegal, you know.
thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.
a veterinarian.
good thing we're all dogs here, then.
he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.
seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.
what, did they guy like steal them or something?
no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.
incredible. (that's insane.)
he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.
lemme take ya out, love—
don't call me that.
and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—
stop talking, simon.
and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.
a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)
with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."
he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"
always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"
the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.
there's never any rest for the wicked.
"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"
the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.
"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."
you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"
his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."
he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"
"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.
"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.
the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.
"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.
black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"
simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."
you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."
he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"
his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."
johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.
pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."
you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"
he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"
"stop talking, simon."
johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.
--
this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.
simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.
even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.
"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.
pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.
simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.
heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.
he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.
"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.
johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."
he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.
oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.
"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.
simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"
he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."
you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.
"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.
"shit, let me go get my medbag."
he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."
a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.
"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.
"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."
you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.
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itsswritten · 1 month
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wings
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff
Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.
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"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.
You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 
Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 
If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 
"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.
"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.
“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.
Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.
Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.
The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.
 𓇢𓆸
Mor, Feyre and Nesta.
It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.
The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.
It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.
A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.
The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.
"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."
“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.
You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.
They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.
"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.
Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.
 𓇢𓆸
Cassian.
Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 
On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.
Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.
"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.
Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.
The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"
You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.
"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.
"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.
“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.
Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.
"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.
"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.
Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.
"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.
"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.
You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.
Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.
Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.
 𓇢𓆸
Rhys and Nyx.
“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.
You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.
Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.
Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.
Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.
You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.
As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.
His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.
"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.
Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 
"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.
"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.
 𓇢𓆸
Azriel.
“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.
You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.
You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.
But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.
As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.
You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.
"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.
Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 
“That’s it my love, that’s it…”
Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.
Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 
"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 
Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.
"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.
"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."
Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.
"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."
Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.
 𓇢𓆸
As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.
"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.
"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."
You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.
"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.
You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"
"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.
Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.
"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.
"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.
"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.
Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.
You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.
"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.
Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”
Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.
They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 
“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.
But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.
No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.
A glow they were forever grateful for.
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a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3
Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x
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munson-blurbs · 2 months
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The Boy is Mine (Bug's Version)
Part of @carolmunson's writing challenge! Thank you for spreading some love and joy in this community, and I hope this fic makes you smile.
Summary: A cozy night in with your sweet boyfriend who is a nuisance in the best way.
Warnings: allusions to smut, allusion to spitting, lewd jokes, basically just fluffy fluffness
WC: 1k
--
Poke.
Poke poke.
Poke poke poke.
Poke poke poke poke poke poke poke poke poke–
“If you don’t stop,” you hiss without looking up from your chemistry notes, “we’re gonna have a problem.” 
Eddie pulls his forefinger back from where it’s pressed against your earlobe, his shit-eating grin morphing into a pitiful pout.
“But it’s date night,” he whines, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You promised me we could curl up and watch Monty Python after an hour, and it’s been…” he glances at the digital watch wrapped around his wrist, “...one hour and three minutes.”
“I’m still trying memorize–”
He snaps the small notebook shut and pulls you closer to him, effectively cutting you off. “And you will–after the movie.” Leaning back against the couch, he lines up his finger to once again prod at you. “C’mon, Sweetheart; we never get the place to ourselves on Friday nights.”
He’s right; his uncle has off on Friday nights and usually prefers to spend his free time relaxing at home, but he’s on a fishing trip this weekend with some of his old army buddies. 
“Okay, okay.” Truthfully, you are in dire need of a break; the formulas and lists of molecular compounds have all become meaningless squiggles right before your eyes. Your back hurts from being hunched over the snack table you’re using in lieu of a desk. Whatever ‘studying’ you do now will likely be unproductive, so you might as well snuggle up next to your boyfriend and enjoy a movie. “But only if I can study after. Some of us would prefer not to spend an entire decade in high school.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs. You’re the only person who’s allowed to crack jokes about him being held back–twice–and you milk it for all it’s worth. “Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true. It’s only been six years. And I’m gonna graduate this time. So, ha.” He sticks out his tongue, making you giggle in turn. “But, fine. You can go back to your smart person mumbo-jumbo once we finish the movie and have sex.”
The last item on his agenda snags your attention as you swing your legs onto the cushion, its stuffing poking out from beneath its worn fabric. “Excuse me?” You cock a brow in disbelief.
“As compensation for the three minutes you spent neglecting me,” he explains with a shrug. “‘S only fair.”
“Sure. You usually only need three minutes anyway.” You lift your foot to dig it into his side, but he grabs it before you can tickle him, playfully bringing it towards his open mouth as though threatening to bite it. 
To be honest, you wouldn’t put it past him.
“Best three minutes of your goddamn life.” His smirk makes a triumphant reappearance as he stands up and pads over to the kitchen. The refrigerator light illuminates him in a bright glow, a juxtaposing halo on the man wearing a shirt with a cartoon devil plastered on the front. “Wayne took all of the beer with him, but we have Mountain Dew, some orange juice that I think is still good…oh, here it is!” He rummages through the top shelf and pulls out the last can of Diet Coke, the one he’d shoved towards the back so no one drank it before you could.
You shoot him a grateful smile that he returns easily. He plucks two mugs off of the wall, both of them gag gifts he’d given to his uncle, pouring Mountain Dew in one with Ask Me About My Nuts spelled out in bolts and screws and your soda in one with a three-dimensional pair of breasts jutting out from the body.
“I ran out of, like, nice cups,” he says sheepishly, likely referring to any container that didn’t allude to body parts. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect.” 
Eddie sets the drinks down on the snack table, careful not to spill on your notebook. “Okay, pretty girl. C’mere.” He places a throw pillow on his lap and pats it, signaling that it’s time for you to assume the prime cuddling position. 
As soon as you rest your head, his hand finds its home on your upper arm. His thumb, calloused but gentle, makes gentle strokes that have both of your hearts beating slowly and in sync.
“Babe?”
“Hmm?”
You roll over so you can see the stubble that’s starting to prickle along his cheeks, jawline, and under his chin. “You forgot about the movie. And the snacks.”
He groans, using his free palm to rub his nose in frustration. It’s one of the cutest habits he has, and part of you always wonders if he does it just to make you smile. 
“‘M too comfy to move,” he grumbles, peering down at you with a guilty expression. 
“Me, too,” you agree. “But…snacks.”
Eddie chuckles, stretching to grab something from his side of the sofa. “We’ve got this,” he says as he procures a half-eaten can of vanilla frosting. “I swear I just opened it last night. And we can just talk until we fall asleep, like we did when we first started dating.”
The memory floods your body with warmth. Even before the two of you became a couple, when you and Eddie were only friends, you would often stay up on the phone until your consciousness gave way. No conversation topic was off-limits; on one night when he’d been more than a bit tipsy, he’d divulged some of his more…private preferences. 
“So she spit in your mouth?”
“Mhm.”
“And you like that?” 
“Abso-fuckin-lutely, Sweetheart.”
Neither of you know where tonight will take you. Maybe you’ll become a familiar tangle of limbs, trading sloppy kisses and murmured sweet nothings. Maybe the sugar from the frosting will rejuvenate one of you enough to actually put the VHS in the player. Maybe you’ll just soak in each other’s softness, letting comfort envelop you until your eyelids become too heavy to keep up.
Wherever you go, you and Eddie will get there together.
--
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
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What’s in a cape, but the hopes and dreams of the one who bears it?
What’s in a cape, but shelter and warmth for those that receive its protection?
What’s in a hero suit, but a person that’s determined to die in it?
——
Long before Danny Phantom died in his hazmat suit, Bruce Wayne donned his cowl to dive between Gotham and the bullets with faces engraved on them. His cape began to signify fear, for those that harmed Gotham knowingly. But for the rest, it became a sign of protection, of promised vengeance against the crime committed.
And for a select few, the cape was a shelter during cold and rainy patrols. For Tim Drake, the third Robin, it was a warmth he’d never experience past those moments.
When Danny Fenton became Danny Phantom, he’d had wanted to have a cape like the crusader.
Danny wasn’t sure if he wanted to shelter or be sheltered.
But eventually, as things escalated and Danny found himself with less time for normal, personal things, that wish shuddered to an ember. After all, Danny had learned that he doesn’t get the luxury of protection. Not anymore. Which meant he had to be the one doing the protecting. A thousand miles away, as Danny came to terms with it on a clear Amity night, Robin was huddled beneath Batman’s cape to shelter from the pelting rain that came often with Gotham’s gloom.
When Danny got pulled along, invisible and attached to Robin’s side as the vigilante got thrown into a prison, he witnessed Robin talk to his evil older Batman self.
He’s visible again before he knew it, startling the two versions of Robins. Ice slammed into the Robin that became Batman as memories rung through Danny’s head. Where Robin was, stood himself. Where the Evil Robin Batman laid on the floor, covered in glowing ice, was Dan.
Danny died, and became a hero. He just had the unfortunate luck to live to see himself become the villain.
He would never allow Robin to go through it alone, not when Danny had his family and friends to fall back on. Robin, in this cage, ripped away from his team and in the midst of an argument with Batman, was painfully so.
“I’m Phantom.” Danny introduced himself. “Looked like you were in a bit of a spot. I’m sorry for butting in, if you wanted to take care of him yourself.”
“Robin.” Robin was wary. That’s okay. “How are you here?”
“That one’s on you, actually.” Danny glanced around. “Let’s get out of here before edgy future you wakes up. The ice won’t melt, and it’ll be hard to break, but I honestly don’t want to stick around for him to wake up.”
“Can you move him?” Robin eyed their cell contemplatively.
“Sure.”
——
“That seemed personal, earlier.”
Danny nodded. “Yeah. Had the displeasure of meeting an alternate evil version of myself that lost everyone I loved. Kind of hit a sore spot there.”
“…right.”
“No worries, you’re good. My friends and family promised to stay away from explosive sauce.”
“That’s good. So… where do you live?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Danny somersaulted in space next to Robin’s jerryrigged space ship. “Anyways, we’re friends now, so I’ll make sure you don’t live to see yourself become a villain.”
“See, that sounded like a threat.”
“It’s not! I don’t kill! And besides, if you were dead, you’d probably be a ghost, and you’d kick my ass for killing you!”
“Are you implying you’re dead?”
“Not an implication. I’m dead. Kind of. Half. I’m still breathing even if I kind of don’t need to. So, where are your friends?”
Danny will be damned before he let his new friends die in their suits, even if they make the job incredibly hard for him. After all, there’s only room for one dead hero on the team, and that’s him.
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twi-liight · 8 months
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Sooo. You just posted Petty Jealousy 20 mins ago and I just wanted to say that I loveeee itttt. Can we please have more? Like Astarion and the other companions subtly do somethings to the person they’re jealous of to turn them away from Tav.
Tav’s companions are just sooo cutee when they’re jealous. Wyll and perhaps, Halsin being the only sensible ones.
Thank you!
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Red With Envy ❣
The YA love heptagon of the century: Tavrem. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Lae'zel/Tav, Companions/Tav. It's Gale/Astarion if you squint. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you! ❥ PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Astarion would never beseech himself to touch a member of the working class, but things change. People change. And here he is draping an arm around Gale’s shoulders to boldly declare his presence upon the rickety, wooden table. 
“Oh.” Blink blink. Gale gawks with round eyes, then not-so-discreetly glances away from Astarion’s heavy gaze to the only present company at the table: salted bread with thick slices of white cheese, anchovies, and sop for the bread. This sorry excuse of a presentation must be breakfast, which begs the question- Is Gale’s blood so blue that he cannot skip a meal or is he trying to make a favorable impression? 
Astarion would much prefer the former. It means he does not need to scrub his hands raw from the filth of peasants after this interaction.
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“Uh, good morning, Astarion.” 
“Mm?” He flashes his fangs to grin. “A good morning indeed, my friend. How lovely the dawn breaks over the horizon, but with no one to share the scenery with! I pitied you, and out of the kindness of my heart, opted to join you.” 
Alright, enough touching. Astarion draws his arm back to poise a curled hand beneath his chin, glancing over Gale’s face in a vain attempt to study him. “Well-combed hair. Your posture,” he raises his hand to gesture at the wizard, “is much cleaner than yesterday. You’re practically glowing with morning dew, and…”
Here, he leans forward, just enough so that his nose lingers on the curve of Gale’s neck, just so his hot breath hits his skin as he murmurs, “You smell like Tav.” 
This greedy bastard slept in their tent last night because he caught some sickness from meandering about gaseous spores, and Tav cannot ignore the needy. Would that Gale be some beggar on the road and not an accomplished wizard with a higher emotional maturity than he.  
Astarion would be more comforted if he was a one night stand, a quick romp for the leader of their party to take the edge off. But anything beyond that is sabotage for his best-laid plans. 
Astarion’s smirk curls as deep, roiling darkness tug at his mind. He leans back slowly, never breaking eye contact. “They let you sleep in their tent. What a darling.” While they slept by the fire, ash and dirt swirling in their hair, Gale was embraced in Tav’s blankets and scarves. The lingering scent of something floral sticks on his skin, and Astarion recognizes it as the oleander Shadowheart presented Tav a fortnight ago. 
Gale smells something else: rusty and metallic, like the smell of a storm brewing. Has Astarion’s eyes deepened in color, like wine? His tongue feels heavy in his mouth all of a sudden. “Yes,” he agrees, thinking of Tav for some semblance of comfort. “I was sick, and they offered their tent for the night. More blankets, they said. Easier to be warm in - look, Astarion, do you have a problem with my friendship with Tav?” 
The laugh that pushes its way forcibly out of his sneering lips is sharp and mocking. Something burns in his chest, and it feels like seething anger. “My, that’s a strong word. I would say acquaintance is more befitting of your,” Astarion gestures to Gale once more, fighting back a scowl, “station. You’ve known Tav for barely a few months - they’re not quick to brand just anyone as a friend.” 
“Is that right?” Gale’s brown eyes spark with challenge. What a doll. Finally got his spine. “I ought to wonder how you befriended them, then. Anyone with half a mind knows your shenanigans are acts of desperation; you want them to like you so you can manipulate them. I know your type, Astarion.” 
“And you… You, what, you are not? You’re using Tav just as much as I am, darling. Otherwise, what are you here for? Companionship? Ha!” Astarion does not know why, but his entire being is alight. As if the sun’s rays are scorching him. He can barely contain his temper, barking out between sharp teeth, “Get a grip.” 
Gale is hardly fazed. “You’re delusional. Whatever threat you think I present to you?” He lifts his chin, eyes alight with power and rage. “Confront it. Dig your grave. Lie in it. While you’re busy lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to dance them around your little games, guess where I will be?” 
Silent, seething anger. It burns. Astarion’s eyes are blown wide with rage as he gazes into Gale’s eyes, digging his nails into his palm as his fingers wrap around the hilt of his dagger. 
“There to catch them when they realize everything you’ve done is just an act.” Gale leans forward this time, a warning blazing in his brown eyes. “Think whatever you wish of me, Astarion, but never in your life think I would never fight for those I cherish.” 
Cherish. Astarion almost sinks his teeth in his throat to shut him up. “Good,” he purrs, fighting every urge not to massacre Gale where he sits with his dingy little breakfast. “I would be sorely disappointed if you succumbed too easily to me.” 
This would be so much easier if Astarion didn’t care about losing Gale, either. If he must concede, Astarion can admit to himself and the Devil alone that Gale is beyond useful in battle. Herald of the Weave, Mystra’s little boytoy? He would be endeared to watch Gale’s story end. Whether it be in smithereens or in the bosom of his former goddess, it will be fun to watch. 
Something in the back of his mind gnaws at his anxiety that Gale will be the one to turn Tav against him. This pretty little fool never wanted him in the party, wary of him, which is the smart thing to do. Tav was not. Tav was too easy to trust him. To easy to ply around his fingers until he had them even offer up their blood. 
He resents Gale for making space in their heart. It could have been his. 
“The dawn rises as I do: strong, and watching over two bread boys exchanging heated words like knives.” Lae’zel’s voice, sleek and smooth, startles them. Gale visibly jolts away from his proximity to Astarion’s face, brown eyes widening as Lae’zel approaches the table. She takes one gander at the spread, grabs a fistful of anchovies, and shoves it down her mouth without care. 
“You,” Gale stammers. “That was for–” 
“Silence. Githyanki must feed well to prepare for the new day. I will not hear your incoherent mumbling, wizard.” Lae’zel at least has the decency to chew with her mouth closed. She gulps the food, grips her fingers around Gale’s mug of watered down wine, and downs it with a tilt of her head. 
Astarion pouts. “We were having a moment, dearest Lae’zel. Now, I love to tease Gale as much as you, but it is my turn to press on Gale’s pretty little nerves until he explodes. He does not need to be,” he flares a hand out to Lae’zel, who is still downing the disgusting concoction with impressive concentration, “hounded.”
Gale looks confused. Astarion thinks that is not a state he often experiences. “Thank you?” 
And now he’s grateful? Astarion regrets his string of words in the last five seconds. They should go back to fighting.
Lae’zel slams the mug down on the table, perishing the rest of Astarion’s train of thought. She wipes the drink from her lips with her arm, thinks for a second, then nods, resilience plain in her expression. “I must warn you: distractions outside of our goal will be our end. I will not fail to cut either of you down if you produce disappointing results. However.”
There’s a ‘however’? Gale and Astarion exchange a glance, the animosity between them gone, replaced with more confusion. “I think you may be misunderstanding,” Gale begins. “Astarion and I-” 
“You two are lovers,” Lae’zel says with the confidence of a thousand burning suns. Astarion has never wished for that to be more true. He wants to be eviscerated where he sits right now because he cannot pick up his jaw from the ground. 
Gale looks like he just swallowed a rat. Like he is seconds away from throwing up. He needs a moment, experiencing vicious whiplash from wanting to kill Astarion to now, wanting to kill Lae’zel. “You— huh.”
“I support this companionship,” nods the githyanki sagely. 
“You are a bloody fool.” 
“No. I am efficient. Two of my enemies have been wiped off the playing field, which means there is less competition.” Hands on her hips, Lae’zel looks at the campgrounds proudly. “Make love to each other loudly.” She jerks her head over her shoulder, a sneer twisting her sharp features as she looks at them. “Try to drown out my name from Tav’s lips tonight, for I will be taking their hand and heart.” 
No fucking way. An oversight on his part. How could he have been so blind? Of course Tav is desired, not just by him or Gale, but by everyone else in the damn camp! This is much more troublesome than he realized. Fine, then. He should prioritize the rational thinkers like Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart and– oh, Karlach. Not darling Karlach. She would never turn Tav against him, would he? 
Fine. Halsin and Lae’zel can go first. 
“Momentary truce?” Gale offers. 
“You read my mind, handsome. Lae’zel, darling! Come back over here - we just want to talk.” 
❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3
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kiame-sama · 3 months
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Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt 4
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Warnings; Several spoilers for EP 8, violence warning, mention of blood warning, injury, stick with it I promise, kind of cliffhanger, Nifty is a wild little thing,
~~~~~~~~
"Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh Ladies?"
"I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!"
"Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit, one could get accustomed. What do you think, my precious Doe?"
You stood with Alastor and Nifty, watching the sinners you lived with for months drink and enjoy their evening. Part of you was honestly sad you may not see them ever again after that night. Who knew what heaven had in store for everyone or if anyone would even make it through the onslaught.
"I... hope everyone makes it through this. I don't know how much help I can be to them, but I truly want to help them however I can."
It was then Alastor laughed, almost seeming hysterical in his laughter and that put you on edge. Something about his laugh made you feel like you had said something that set him off and that was a concerning feeling for you.
"My adorably naïve Doe, what in Hell makes you think you're going to be anywhere on that battlefield? No, no. You'll be safe where you belong in your microphone home and far from Heaven's table scraps. Enjoy this night, Dear. This may be the last time you see our wayward pals again."
You were both unsurprised and horrified at Alastor's words. Part of you honestly thought you would be fighting the angels with the others and to hear Alastor so casually state his plans to lock you away upset you. There was no fighting or arguing with Alastor, but you also felt compelled to at least try and convince the cannibal demon to allow you to stand with the souls you befriended.
Before you had the chance to speak, there was a sudden weight added to your head and you saw Nifty putting an oddly woven crown with several dead roaches on Alastor as well.
"I dub thee King and Queen Roach."
"Oh, to understand your twisted little mind."
Both Alastor and Nifty laughed, but you struggled to find the same humor in the moment when the reality of all you could lose loomed over you.
~~~~~~~~
Everything was dark spare for the glowing neon lights outside of the broken radio tower. So vastly different from what it had been seemingly moments before. The arms that wrapped around you and held you snugly only served to ground you from the absolute terror you had been in.
"Please..."
Your voice was a whisper that only seemed to echo among the rubble around you. His arms tightened in response for just a moment, his body tense. The broken microphone you had been contained in was clenched in one of his fists and almost felt cold against your body.
"Quiet, sweet Doe... Do not speak now..."
A part of you was terrified to remind Alastor that your deal had been broken and you didn't need to follow his orders anymore, but an even stronger part of you hesitated to think back on how it all fell apart.
It came from seemingly nowhere. You were safe within the microphone when the blast of heavenly light pierced into you. What neither you nor Alastor realized was that when a deal created item like the microphone breaks, the deal and the soul bound to it break as well. That was really all you remembered before your own mind blocked the rest out to protect you.
You winced at the memory despite your now healed stomach. When you awoke after being swallowed by Alastor's darkness, your body was healed almost completely. The only thing left of the splitting injury was a freshly healed scar around your midsection and an oddly empty feeling within.
Alastor couldn't stop himself from replaying the memory over and over in his mind and he hated what it meant for him and the soul he had found himself so fond of. Mostly he hated how he had reacted to it and the truth he now knew in himself. He couldn't deny now that he needed you and losing you was enough to show him that.
The sound of your choked and gasping cries made agony rip through Alastor's damned and tainted soul far more than he realized it would. Both pieces of the microphone in his hands and your soft body laying beneath Adam's axe as the angel grinned maliciously down at you. Your deal with Alastor to keep you safe and alive had been broken.
"Well, ain't that cute. Looks like I got your little fucking sinner bitch instead of you, she- this is one of heaven's souls. Where the fuck did shit like you get a soul from heaven? Damn it! They'll lose their shit if I kill one of our souls!"
He couldn't deny it, but he would never admit to it. Alastor would never admit to being afraid and desperate to not lose you because his own ego couldn't take it. Though he could no longer delude himself, he could still delude everyone else. Everyone except for you.
"Make another deal with me, my innocent lost Doe of heaven. Keep my eternal secrets for me. Broadcast for me with your pure radio waves and soul. I will keep hell from tainting you, and you keep your heaven touched soul reserved for me. Strengthen my radio station and be my trusted pet once more..."
Alastor hummed against your shoulder in a soft tone, knowing that he needed to get you back on his leash. He wasn't the only one in hell aware of your pure soul anymore. A heaven touched and claimed soul so untainted and pure was a very rare thing. Whatever angelic pride resulted in you being wrongfully cast out allowed Alastor a fantastic trophy of a soul. Despite still being considered the quarry of heaven, you wound up in Hell and you would remain there if he had anything to say about it.
A sinner's soul was one thing. One of heaven's souls was another entirely.
"Refuse... Well, we both know the broadcast can keep your sweet voice and soul protected for another half a decade. At least I don't make you scream for it."
~~~~~~~~
Vox watched the video over and over again of the soft woman Alastor supposedly kept within his microphone. What that stupid first human said peaked his interest in this Hell-bound heavenly soul. If he could get his hands on that soul there were certain to be some grand abilities paired with it, not to mention the value of such a soul in Hell's market.
All Vox had to do was convince Valentino and Velvet to put value in the same soul and it would be akin to a one-way ticket to the strongest overlords Hell has known. Well, that and wresting the pure soul from Alastor's control. It shouldn't be too hard given the fact that their deal was broken, but Alastor was likely to try and make another deal just to keep that sweet soul to himself.
On top of just the heavenly soul, the soul of the little maid Nifty was certainly a hot commodity given just what she did at the end of the extermination battle. With both souls in hand, Vox might not even need the other Vees in time. He could rise above the two Vees he had teamed up with and become more powerful than even Zestial.
No doubt the other Vees won't be too difficult to convince when it comes to the idea of collecting the two high value souls. Once Vox has his hands on those souls and can use them to taunt that old-timey prick, he will finally have everything he wants within his reach.
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djarincore · 3 months
Text
Down by the River
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summary: Gale accidentally finds you bathing in the river.
pairings: Gale x reader
word count: 1k
tags: suggestive themes, nudity, fluff
a/n: am I a weirdo for loving the trope where someone finds a beautiful maiden bathing in a river and is entranced by the rivulets of water tracing down the curve of her spine??? I dunno....
Wyll's version
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
All Gale wanted was a refreshing bath. Gods, he missed his warm baths in his tower back in Waterdeep where he would have a good book in one hand and another cradling a fine glass of wine. 
Alas, such luxuries could not be afforded on the road with mind flayer parasites burrowed in his skull. 
When he found the slow, winding river, he halted upon hearing a low melodic hum. He would have thought it were harpies again with their hypnotic melody if not for his own eyes. 
There—back turned to him, just toeing the edge of the river, completely bare—was you.
The full moon washed your body in a soft, ethereal light, reminding him of the intimate magic lesson you shared. The way the Weave shrouded you in a soft glow. He recalled how bright your eyes looked as magic danced around you for the first time. The soft caress of hands as they met and lingered at your sides. How you imagined kissing him before the magic fell away all too soon. 
Your toes grazed the crystal shore, rippling the gentle current, to test the water's temperature—cold, from the way your body tensed and a soft gasp disrupted your soothing hum. 
Gale could not move—could not breathe—as heat swam through his body and rose to his cheeks. Your hums continued as you slipped into the water slowly, completely unaware of his presence so far. 
It was wrong of him to be here, watching you in a quiet moment of peace and completely vulnerable. He would not break your trust, not when he already found himself holding you so close to his heart. 
Unfortunately for Gale, his departure was not as silent as his arrival. A cursed stick snapped beneath his feet when he backed away. 
The noise alerted you, who snapped around and attempted to cover yourself with your hands. Your arms pressed tightly against your breast and your legs were positioned sideways to cover your lower half. 
“Who's there?!” You demanded, voice quivering. Your eyes scanned the forest to find a figure attempting to slip into the bushes. But, you recognized those purple robes. “Gale?”
“My apologies,” he called back, sheepishly, raising his hands in surrender. The blush on his cheeks grew hotter now that he was caught. This was dangerous territory for a man who had a sensitive bomb in his chest. “I-I promise you, I didn't mean to find you here.”
Your gaze fell away to the water at your feet. “You came to bathe?”
“Yes! Though I'm sure I can find a suitable spot elsewhere. It's a long river, after all. Though I’m certain I won't find any more beautiful nymphs there,” he rambled. He didn't know how to stop.
Your eyes were wide when you looked at him again, a shy smile pulling at the edge of your lips. 
He cleared his throat and turned his gaze to the sky. “I’ll leave you to it.” 
He turned, prepared to leave and berate himself for making a fool of himself, but stopped when he heard you call after him.
“Wait, Gale! Y-You don't need to leave.” You sounded as nervous as he felt. “Stay.” 
How could he ever ignore one of your requests?
Shedding his clothes seemed like a blur and suddenly he was just as bare as you, standing at the edge of the river. 
You had turned away as he stripped and sunk deeper into the river, chest deep now, busying yourself with washing up. Your hand ran along your opposite arm and up your shoulder. 
Gale watched, mesmerized by the curves that your hand danced along. You were beautiful, enchantingly so—a true goddess to behold. 
He slipped into the chilling waters, a safe distance away from you. He hoped you weren't uncomfortable. You hadn't looked at him since you asked him to stay. The two of you bathed in silence, backs turned to one another. 
After a while, you said, “I never thanked you for that magic lesson. It was wonderful.”
Pride burned through his body as he smiled. “You had an excellent teacher, after all. But, you were a wonderful student too.”
He dared to turn his head, just to look at you from the corner of his eyes. You were already facing him. There was always kindness and compassion in your eyes that never failed to draw him closer to you. The way you looked at him—he felt seen. It was almost too much sometimes.  
His eyes followed the slow rivulets of water that slid down your neck and further down your chest. 
“I was… glad to share a moment of magic with you,” he confessed when his eyes returned to yours.  
“I hope that lesson wasn't the last.”
“Of course not! I’d be more than happy to show you more illusory magic. We can start with a simple spell I learned when I was young. Tara taught it to me in fact.” 
Gale failed to notice you inching closer as he went on about what he would show you next—he was getting lost in his own words. He only slowed to a stop when your hand lightly brushed against his underwater. His fingers tensed before relaxing and allowing your fingers to drift along his knuckles. 
You uttered his name softly and he couldn’t help the hitch in his throat. “I hope we get more than just a moment.”  
Before he could respond, you leaned forward and kissed him. Your lips pressed against his, slow and careful, but it was over before there was time to properly savor the feeling. You pulled back, your hand still resting on his. 
“Sorry,” you said sheepishly. “I should have asked before doing that. Are you okay?”
Gale nodded, feeling all sense slowly coming back. For the first time in more than a year, he felt wanted. “More than okay.”
There was a hunger growing in his chest, he realized, but it didn't yearn for magic.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
a/n: im not entirely happy w this but i might revisit it one day :)
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hanasnx · 3 months
Note
bruce trying to explain to dick and jason that the young woman they saw in the manor is his 19 yo situationship !!
PART ONE ✩ PART TWO MINORS DNI 18+
BRUCE WAYNE cuffs his last link, and straightens out the sleeve of his dress shirt.
"I'm not sneaking around." JASON TODD insists, as if it should be obvious and he's disgusted Bruce would imply such a thing. A resentful smile replaces it as he claps a harsh hand on the back of DICK GRAYSON. "Birdie here was just helping me out, he told me you'd be gone by now. Didn't know you kept my copy." He raises the book into view and wiggles it.
"Of course, I would. It has all your annotations." Bruce replies calmly, and Jason's expression drops subtly. Bruce approaches you and adjusts the blanket you held so you'd be more covered up. "Why don't you go freshen up? The car's waiting." Your cheeks heat even more than before, you're sure he can see the color bloom on them and spread to your forehead. He's not the least bit interested in your nightgown that the boys commented on, instead keeping warm and rough hands on your shoulders protectively.
"Hold on a sec', who is this?" Jason has the need to be combative, especially after the flash of vulnerability he displayed. He gestures to you with the book. "Getting younger every year, aren't they, Bruce?" A wolfish grin spreads onto his lips, his canines glinting in the firelight and you frown at his rude implications, talking about you like you're not even there.
"She's my date for tonight." Bruce replies coolly, and you glance between them, puzzled over how he keeps such a level head around someone intent to get under his skin. You were alone five minutes with Jason and he'd managed to annoy you. Bruce somehow senses your unease, and meets your gaze, a soft glow in his eyes.
"Yeah, Bruce, I'm with Jason here. She looks younger than us." Dick has joined in on the conversation that apparently does not include you. "Are you sure that's the kind of statement you wanna make?"
"This conversation is over." A harder tone takes root within Bruce's voice as he commands, and you've had enough.
"Hello? Why are you all talking like I'm not here?" you demand, looking between their expressions of varying shock. "I'm the Ice Princess of Gotham, goddamnit, I won't be ignored!"
A snicker breaks out from Jason, who pats Dick's arm with the back of his hand. "Damn, the kindergartner's got a mouth on her." Dick does not engage in the banter, batting Jason's hand away with a scolding, "Jason."
"I'm tired of this!" you declare, and bunch up the blanket, rolling it up and tearing at it with your claws before throwing it to the ground. "I hope you have fun going to whatever-it-is by your-self, Bruce. I'm going to spend my time with people more civilized." you hiss, proudly sticking your nose in the air as you go to the exit.
"Tell 'em, baby! You go, girl!" Jason jeers after you, "A little more ass next time, that nightgown's too long."
Dick has the urge to shove Jason into the fire, but now that they're adults it's not as feasible as when they grew up around each other. "You're a piece of shit, you know that?" he tells him, but it's more or less tired.
Jason side-eyes him with a shrug. "I knew she couldn't handle it. I'm a tough pill to swallow, and a little princess like that needed some humbling."
"Who says? Jesus, Jason, you think everyone needs to be taken down a peg."
"So, Bruce, what were you celebrating tonight? Her sweet sixteen?" That grin stretches back onto Jason's countenance as he interrogates his former mentor. "Finally sick of pussy your age?"
"She was a distraction." Bruce answers, passing through the two boys. All of the polite inhibition from before is lowered, the playboy veil gone now that you've left the room. All that's left now is Batman, and he opens the window. Dick and Jason's eye follow his back as the cold night air hits them. "Penguin and Batman are at odds, and if Bruce Wayne is the center of controversy, the tabloids don't even notice the dealings of a vigilante." He watches you enter a cab in a huff, your longcoat thrown over your nightgown and heels, and drive off. He turns to Jason, and tips his head toward the open window. "I'm assuming this is how you got in, so out you go."
"This is the fourth story, Bruce."
"So you'll have no trouble."
593 notes · View notes
rafescurtainbangz · 4 months
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House-Sitting (JJ Maybank One Shot) +18
Minor DNI
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JJ x female reader
You're house sitting and smut ensues
Warning: SMUT, shower stuff, lots of pet names, lovey JJ, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, practically plotless
I haven't written OBX before; usually just stick to Stranger Things. So I hope I'm doing this right. I wrote a Rafe one the other day. HERE Gah. Anywho... Enjoy.
Y/N's POV:
Your feet pound against the sand, as the sun rises high in the east. My lungs are on fire. Silent screams of pain flood your mind. You glance over at JJ, totally unfazed. His eyes meet yours; a devilish smirk follows. No, JJ. He moves a little faster, just a smidge, a few inches in front of you. You pick up your pace, running next to him.
He chuckles, breathlessly. You return a scoff in annoyance; picking up your speed, and moving ahead of him. JJ breaks out in a sprint, tearing down the beach.
"Jayj!" You scream.
Fuck. He's fast.
You're streaming after him; your feet unstable in the sand; birds scuttling out of the way, screeching and swirling overhead.
There's no way you can keep up. His feet kick up sand; peppering you as you take up the rear. "Stop. You little shit," you hiss.
He throws on the brakes. You run past him at full speed.
Oh my god, JJ.
Turning around your eyes meet his; your hands on your hips, reaching for air.
"Y/N... when did you get so damn slow," he smiles; voice barely audible. His abs flex tightly with his breathing, sweat drips down his stomach.
Agh... He's in trouble. But damn... does he look fucking good... His tanned skin glistens in the sun. Two chiseled v's on his tight waist; his grey shorts clinging tightly to his thighs.
His smile widens.
"Did you hear me? Or are you too busy gawking, sweetheart? I can repeat myself if you'd like?"
"Mmm..."
"What?"
"To think... I was going to suck you off in the shower this morning." You pant He looks at you wide-eyed, regretting every single word.
Turning pace you trudge back through the sand, making your way to your house sitting house. "That would have been fun. Right, Jayj?" You yell loudly, giving him the finger.
You hear him jogging up behind you; you wipe the shit-eating grin off your face.
"No... No. No. No!" JJ barks. "Don't be a sore loser, baby." He paws for your ass, giving it a squeeze.
"Knock it off," you say flatly, pushing him away.
"Mmm... come here, beautiful. Don't be like that," he croons, reaching for your arm, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you close. He pinches the rim of his hat, flipping it backward.
Ugh... he knows that drives me crazy.
He lifts you up, walking you towards the house. You wrap your legs around his waist; your arms draped lazily on his shoulders.
"You're glowing, baby."
"Fuck off."
"No! I'm serious," he burns, licking his lip, his head tilted slightly.
"Yeah... yeah... serious about getting your dick wet..." You roll your eyes. "Please."
"What? Me? Never," he smiles, leaning in closer, you do as well.
"I'm not kissing you, JJ," you whisper onto his lips. "And I'm sure as shit not showering with you either."
Can I change your mind?"
"No..." You clip.
"Y/N..."
"JJ..."
"Baby..."
"Maybank..."
"Please..."
"Not a fucking chance."
"But you need me..." he smiles. "You obviously wanted something from me."
"My fingers will do the trick but thank you for your concern."
He smiles wickedly. "Nah... Those things are too small. Look at these," he chuckles as he wiggles his finger high, showing off his come hither motion.
"Can you set me down?" You scoff.
He steps into the grass, moving towards the house. "Not a fucking chance," he mocksvwith a sly smile. His eyes drift to your chest; your breasts pressed together in your black sports bra.
He hops, adjusting you in his arms, watching as your chest bounces.
"Ugh...You're a fucking dog."
"Yeah... But I'm your good boy. Right?"
You scoff; your smile trying hard to push its way through. JJ grabs the door handle, pulling it open; the chill of your air conditioner hitting your glazed skin. You shiver; goosebumps fall over your body.
"Wow... you look chilly, baby. We should probably warm you up." He presses the door shut. "With like... a shower or something."
"Enough."
"Please..."
"Let's just wait until we get back to The Château. The Williams trust me. If they find out they'd kill me for sure or, at least not let me house-sit. The money's too good Jayj."
"They won't find out," he pouts. "And, the little note said 'make yourself at home'. What do you do in a home, doll-"
"Jayj," you cut him off.
"You fuck," he finishes his sentence, drawing out the word in an overly seductive tone trying his best to get you to laugh.
"You're trouble."
"No shit, baby," he smiles. JJ jumps again, watching your cleavage recoil on impact; his blue eyes roll back, meeting your gaze with a stare that makes you throb.
"Fine." 
You wind up, smacking him roughly on the ass. He lets out a fake moan one second, charging at you the next, tickling you as you fight him off; the two of you scampering down the hall.
"I said 'leave me alone'," you squeal.
"Eh. You don't want that, darlin'," he chuckles. JJ grabs you, easily pinning you against the wall; kissing you deeply.
"Can we make it to the bathroom at least?" You tease.
He grabs the bottom of your sports bra, tugging it over your head. You clasp your hands to your chest, letting out a gasp. "Hey! I wanna see 'em," he groans. You give him a little swat on the arm.
"No. They probably have cameras and shit.”
"So?”
You smack him again, making him clutch his arm jokingly. “Are we gonna fight fight?" He taunts, swiftly taking you into his arms.
"We are already fighting" You answer flatly, arms wrapping around the back of his neck. "I just slapped you."
"And, you think you'd win this fight, Y/N?"
"Absolutely."
"You're probably right," he smiles.
"I'm always right," you sigh as you work your finger into his hair. His eyes shut softly, leaning in for a kiss as you pass through the threshold.
"No. No way. Not their room." JJ kicks the door shut, not letting you out of his arms
"What's the point in havin' a girlfriend if you can't bone her anywhere you'd like?" He holds back his laugh as the words pass his lips, your mouth, hanging open in disgust.
"What's the point in having a girlfriend? What? Are we twelve? You're kinda bein' a dick."
"Wanna sit on my lap and tell me how awful I am?"
"Stop. Guest room now."
"Uff... I love when you boss me around. Do it again."
"Now. The shower's nicer anyways."
"Yeah?"
"Were you thinking about doin' this," He taunts. "Were you dreamin' about me all wet and sexy?" JJ whispers, fighting back a chuckle, but he's not wrong. 
"'Course I was," you whisper. Making him smile against your kiss.
"My girl." His tongue slips between your pout, rolling slowly as you moan softly into your kiss.
He turns the handle, water spilling from the head, still cold leaving you the perfect amount of time to play. Your lips meet his neck; a soft kiss, feeling his heartbeat under your lips. You palm his cock; rolling your fingers gently over the fabric. He moans deeply, vibrating against your lips.
You work a little lower; JJ, setting you down as you kiss and trace his toned chest and abs, working to your knees. Your fingers run softly against the indentations of his v-lines, making his muscles flex. You smile up at him sinfully, catching your fingers under the band of his shorts, pulling them to his feet. You watch as his aching cock springs free.
JJ meets your eyes; his guide shifting as you start to touch your tits as well.
"Fuck, Y/N," JJ groans.
You take your hands, running them gently against your breasts, circling your nipples with your fingers as he eyes your every move. Steam gathers above as the shower gets warmer; JJ's features, a little hazier than before. You return your focus below, running your nails up his thighs.
"Fuck you're huge, Jayj," you praise as you take him in your hands.
"Yeah?" He groans, watching you near his tip, a pearl of precum gathers on his head, rolling slowly down the length of his cock.
"Mmm... Mhmm." You hum, cleaning him up with your tongue. JJ closes his eyes, tilting his head back to the ceiling.
You continue to toy with him; little licks and flicks. JJ cradles your head in his hands as you swirl slowly. "Oh my god, Y/N," he grunts.
JJ's eyes open, watching as you kiss him sloppily, teasing him with the thought of your lips wrapped around him, the warmth of your mouth swathing him.
"Shit," he whines; sexual frustration painted all over his beautiful face. You smile wickedly, lips parting slightly. His mouth mimics yours, watching in anticipation as you squeeze the tip of his dick. "Those fuckin' lips, Y/N. Please."
"Please what?" You taunt. "You were being a dick to me... Why should I suck yours?"
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he soughs; pitching his hips forward. You snake your tongue around his head, working in slow circular movements as you play with his balls. JJ's eyes shut tight when you alternate directions. "C'mon, baby. Give me what I want," he drawls. You open your mouth wider. JJ chuckles lustfully as you comply with his request. You take him into your maw. "Fuck," he moans; drawing out the word with a deep breath. You bob back and forth, gagging on his cock each time. He takes your head in his hands as you increase your speed.
JJ starts to quaver on your tongue, mumbling words of praise as you add your hands. He tugs your hair causing you to moan, JJ, answering with the same.
He seizes control, stroking slower, taking a different grip entirely. His strong hands holding your cheeks. The head of his cock kisses the back of your throat, spit seeping from the corners of your lips.
"I'm sorry I teased you, darlin'... I just couldn't help myself," he sneers, not an ounce of remorse in his voice. He lets out a deep chuckle. "So fuckin' good at suckin' cock, Y/N. Jesus Christ" He thrusts deeply a few more times before giving you back the reins. You draw off him fully; a gasp for air releases from your open lips. You spit on his cock, stroking him with your hand, letting your breasts bounce with each movement.
"Do you want my mouth, JJ?"
"Yes, baby."
"Beg."
He shakes his head and smiles wickedly."Yeah, angel? You want me to beg?"
"Mhmm..."
"Please, Y/N. Can I please have your mouth?"
You raise an eyebrow, waiting for more.
"Fuck, Y/N... I need that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock... I'm beggin' ya... Please, baby." You wrap your lips around his tip, creating a suction that makes him groan. Your hands wrap around, gripping his ass; as you start to stroke. Lewd noises fill the bathroom; JJ, panting and moaning, and you slurping and squelching with each bob.
He hisses out a breath as you drag your nails along his skin. Tears run down your cheeks; eyes, locked on his, watching as he starts to near his peak.
"So good, baby... I'm gonna - Fuck."
You run him even quicker, sucking a little harder as his brows knit tight. His blue eyes soften on yours, fighting to keep them open. You feel him quake on your tongue. Releasing him from your lips you pump fast; arm, wrapped around your ribs, pressing your breasts together. Your mouth opens wide; tongue flat
"Holy shit," he grunts; inhaling sharply, surrendering to his finish, warm, white ropes landing on your tongue and chest. You bind your fingers a little tighter, milking out his last bits of pleasure, skimming your tongue along JJ's tip, cleaning up the rest, making his hooded eyes roll back.
JJ takes a clasp on your wrists, pulling you up and into his arms. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, melting into him as he breathes laboriously, coming down from his high."God damn, baby. You're so fuckin' good at that," he mumbles breathlessly against your lips. "Do you know how good you make me feel?"
You smile against your kiss, sucking off his plump bottom lip slowly, taking it between your teeth. "You make me feel so fucking good, Jayj," you respire between kisses as he steps into the large walk-in shower.
The water is warm; remnants of his release rise off your body, swirling down the drain. Steam and heat hang heavy in the air making it almost impossible to see. You hook your ankles, driving your body closer as he presses your back into the cool tile wall. He shuts the glass door. JJ's large handprint streaks across the gathered vapor.
"That feel good, baby? Not too hot?"
"No. It's perfect," you whisper.
"Beautiful."
JJ reaches for the shower head, taking it off the base, turning it to a steady stream. He kicks your foot out gently. A smile spreads on his kiss-swollen lips as he sees you start to put the pieces together.
"Jayj?" You giggle breathlessly.
"You ever done this before?" He questions; gripping the detachable shower head in one hand, the other pinned just over your shoulder as he looks down at you.
"I mean maybe," you smile.
"No one's ever done it for you?" He groans, letting the warm water spray against your thigh, working higher and higher.
You bite your lip and shake your head 'no'. Your focus shifts, drifting lower, watching as he brings the stream of water to your pussy, hitting your clit, making your knees buckle. You let out a moan, echoing through the bathroom.
"Y/N... Fuck, baby. Too much?"
"No. It's good, Jayj. So good," you sigh. "Don't stop."
JJ moves his arm from the wall to your waist, drawing you closer; rocking slowly, increasing and decreasing the intensity, making you throw your head back in pleasure. JJ's lips quickly lock onto your skin, kissing you harshly before biting down, making you squeal.
He watches your body carefully; your face, changing with each passing second as you drift closer and closer to your breaking point. You feel your pleasure building fast, the pressure of the water stronger than any toy you've used in a while."You like that. Huh?" He grunts. You nod your head rapidly. JJ leans down, taking your nipple in his mouth; sucking and flicking, causing you to arch your back.
"JJ... Oh my god," you hail as your vision starts to cloud; stars in your eyes.
"I can't wait to fuck you baby. This is just a warm-up, sweet-"
"JJ!" You cut him off, crying out in pleasure as you wrap your arms tighter, nails digging into his shoulder blades. He lets out a devilish laugh, forcing the stream a little closer. "Jay-JJ," you stutter.
"What, princess?" Your body jolts as you fight him slightly in overstimulation, continuing to ride the waves of your orgasm, pussy clenching tight. "Does it feel good, baby?"
"Yes. Fuck!"
"Then just take it," he rasps in your ear; sending chills down your spine.
You feel your body relax; heart, pounding in your chest as you reach for air.
JJ returns the water head to the base, cranking up the heat, pressing you into the wall once more as you continue to kiss; your ears ringing slightly, feeling the after-effects of your bliss.
"Fuck me?" You whimper, desperation laced in your tone. "Please."
"Anywhere, baby? Where do you want it?"
"Bed… Start here."
"The bed? You sure? I'd hate to upset the Williams." JJ reaches down, taking a grip on your thigh, looping it in his bicep, muscles flexing as he lifts you slightly.
"Just fuck me." You tilt your forehead against his, the two of you watching as his long cock nears your warmth. "Shit," you whine as he circles your sensitive clit with his velvety head, making him smirk. JJ moves a little lower, gliding through your folds, teasing your entrance with his tip.
"JJ. Please."
"Please what?" He teases you again.
"Fuck me."
"Baby..." He lets out a gravelly laugh. "Beg harder." JJ swipes his head across your bud again making you gasp.
"JJ, can you please fuck me? Ple-" He thrusts his cock into you, rutting up; breasts pressing against his chest as he steals your breath. JJ grabs your ass and picks you up swiftly causing you to sink deeper on his cock making you mewl onto his lips.
"Y/N," he moans.
"Yeah," you stammer.
"I fucking love you."
"I fucking love you, JJ."
He pins you to the wall, leaning in, rutting quickly. His strokes are merciless; incredibly deep as you cling to his shoulders again. The hot water cascades down your body, increasing your pleasure as it flows between the two of you, the stimulation alone making you feel like you could climax.
"Ready?"
"Yeah," you mumble against his lips.
JJ draws open the door, his cock still buried deep as he brings you to the bedroom. He's sauntering; a slow stroll as you kiss at the perfect cadence. He sits down on the large mattress, letting you straddle his lap.
JJ adjusts slightly; his cock, reaching a different angle, making you suck in some air. You lift your body, rising up fully before spreading your thighs wide again. JJ grips your ass in his hands, following you as you move. "F-Fuck," you whine, bottom lip quivering, as you feel him stretch you out.
JJ looks down watching where your bodies connect. A low moan releases from the back of his throat. "You're so fuckin wet, Y/N. Holy shit." You hook your hand behind his neck, leaning back slightly, changing the angle for a better view. Watching JJ's thick cock glisten with essence.
Throwing your head back, you hit the perfect spot, feeling every curve and ridge as you push yourself further. JJ's thumb presses against your throbbing clit rubbing circles on top causing your thighs to shake. "Takin' me so well, baby girl," he drawls. "So fucking tight."
"JJ..." You sigh; feeling yourself about to cum again, head, pounding with your heart.
"Yeah? That's the spot. Huh?"
"Y-Yeah," you stutter, cock-drunk, thighs quivering uncontrollably, making you lose your rhythm.
"Let me, baby. Let me," he groans.
JJ fucks into you, striking the perfect angle, making your muscles tense up. "Shit... Right there, Jayj. You're gonna make me cum."
"Yeah? This pussy was made for me. Cum on my cock, Y/N..." Your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure hitting you harder than your first release. Toes curling as you're sent into ecstasy. You lock down around him, JJ taking his cue; pounding into you at an even quicker pace.
Before you can come down, he picks you up; throwing you on the mattress, thrusting into you suddenly. The sounds of his skin clapping against yours echo through the large room. You let out a cry; far louder than intended, in a house that's not your own, even if it's empty. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand.
JJ quickly grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your mouth; shaking his head 'no' as he tacks it and the other against the plush mattress. "Never do that again," he pants through a smile, punctuating each word with a thrust.
"Closer," you beg. JJ leans in, pressing you against the bed, knees wide, striking deep inside, making your eyes slam shut. He loosens the grip on your wrist; fingers weaving into yours. Your mouth falls open; a mixture of pleasure and pain.
"Look at me, baby."
You do, seeing every muscle at work, water still glistening on his tan skin, his blonde fringe, wet and messy.
"JJ..."
"Me too, Y/N. Fuck. Me too," he moans. He drops a hand, pressing two fingers between your lips. You suck them roughly as you fight to keep your eyes open. JJ slips his hand low, his skilled fingers brushing fast.
"Yes, daddy! Just - Just like that. Fuck. JJ," you murmur. "Oh shit-" Your orgasm spills over, soaking his cock, wetting the sheets below. The sound of his strokes intensifies as he works you through your climax, stimulating your clit, brushing through spurts as he makes a mess of your thighs and his. "That's it... Good fuckin' girl."
His hips snap into you one last time, filling you with his warmth, toppling down on top of you. You can feel everything at this moment, his release and your own, the two of you glazed with sweat, soaked from the shower. You focus on the sound of his heartbeat, complementing your own; the way your body fits in his, JJ's weight on top of yours.
"That was amazing," he praises, kissing you sweetly.
"So good... So fucking good."
444 notes · View notes
babydollmarauders · 4 months
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TINSEL TIES — NICO HISCHIER
nico hischier x fem!reader
12 DAYS OF KINKMAS
summary: in which Nico finds a fun way to wait for the fire to die down
warnings: NSFW CONTENT, edging, light bondage, dominant Nico, praise, degradation, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, p in v (unprotected). (3.9k words)
notes: welcome to day 1 of the 12 days of kinkmas! where i wrote most of these smuts in...not at all at christmas time! i’m so excited to share these holiday themed smuts with you all and i hope you enjoy!
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an orange glow flickers over the living room, the soft tune of christmas music floating throughout the open space of the apartment.
my boyfriend and i stand in front of the christmas tree, meticulously draping ornaments from the prickly branches.
although it’s much too laborious to get a real tree amongst Nico’s schedule, he did agree to buy a fake one for the holidays. a beautiful faux tree that’s been sitting bare and untouched in our living room for far too long. but amidst his chaotic schedule, Nico and i have finally made the time to decorate it together on his night off.
“Neeks,” i speak gently, afraid to break the peaceful ambiance we’ve created in our home. “do you think the guys would come to a holiday party?”
the question is just the result of a fleeting thought; asked as i hang a silver bauble upon the tree, but a serene smile spreads across my boyfriend’s full lips, a glance of adoration shot my way.
“if they didn’t, i’d have them bag skating until they physically can’t get off the ice.” his response causes a soft huff of laughter to fall from my lips, shaking my head in amusement. “why? are you thinking of having a party?”
“no,” i drag out, joking sarcasm dripping from my words, “i was just curious.”
Nico levels me with a single raised brow, an unamused expression painting his face.
“yes, Neeks, i’m thinking of hosting a christmas party.” i tell him, gently hanging the next ornament as i speak, “i just feel like i don’t do enough. i mean, i’m the captain’s girlfriend; isn’t it kinda my job to host and fundraise and stuff?
“like, should i be making the team snacks or something? i don’t know how this works. is it like a soccer mom situation? should i be making protein shakes and sending apple slices with you to practices?”
my anxious ramble fades off as Nico’s hands come to rest upon my hips, pulling me towards him with an entertained smile.
“you don’t have to do any of that, süsse.” his forehead dips down, forehead pressing against mine, “although i wouldn’t mind some apple slices for myself.
“but if you would like to throw a christmas party, then we can do that.”
my arms wrap around, locking over the back of his neck and pulling him down until his lips meet mine. the kiss is sweet; soft and loving, as well as tasting faintly of store bought lofthouse cookies. when i pull back, his lips chase mine, eagerly trying not to let the moment fizzle, but i turn my eyes towards the tree, letting him lips land upon my cheek instead.
“i think it’s done.” i whisper, ignoring his aggravated groan at my rejection.
“we still have two more bags of ‘necessary’ decorations.” he reminds me, pointing over towards the armchair where a couple reusable grocery bags sit filled with various items that i had assured him we needed.
“okay, so i may have overbought.” my shoulders shrug lazily, my eyes rolling.
“you?” Nico questions sarcastically, gazing back down at me with an appalled look. “i bought them all. you just threw them in the cart.”
“and i obviously took my job very seriously, now we have extras for next year, if we decide to switch it up.”
my boyfriend untangles from my grasp, ducking under my arms to walk over to the bags of decor. he sticks his hand in, fishing out an unopened string of tinsel garland.
“what would we even use this for?” he huffs, glaring down at the sparkly red material in his hands.
“to put on the tree, obviously!”
Nico looks at me with a blank expression, his shoulders slumping as his eyes flicker from me to the tree and back.
“obviously.” his accent is thick and monotonous, obviously not charmed by my response. “but we didn’t use it at all.”
“well no, but we could find other uses for it!” i cheer, stalking over to try and pluck the tinsel from his grasp, but his grip on the package tightens. “like, maybe we could tie it somewhere in the apartment.”
his head snaps up from looking at the sparkly garland, eyes lighting up as he stares at me. “i think i have an idea.”
“yeah? what is it?” he throws the package on the coffee table, assuring me that we’ll use it later, before his eyes flit to the fireplace.
our fire is no longer what it once was when we started it around two hours ago. not yet dwindling but no longer blazing high and providing copious amount of heat.
“how long until the fire dies out?” i ask him, a small yawn pushing out of me. “maybe starting it so late wasn’t a good idea, i’m getting a bit tired; but we can’t leave it unattended.”
“if you’re that tired, i could watch it while you go to sleep.”
while i appreciate his kind sentiment, i shake my head, rather taking a seat on the couch instead.
“i don’t wanna sleep without you. besides, i can stay up. i’m not too tired.”
Nico sits beside me, pulling my thighs over his lap in one swift movement. one of his arms wraps around my waist, the other resting over my legs, his hand grasping at half my ass.
i lean forward, my chest pressing against his, and my neck cranes up, eyes gazing into his.
“kiss me.” i whisper, his head dipping down and his lips brushing lightly across mine.
“did you just tell me to kiss you?” he chuckles, pulling me forward to sit entirely in his lap.
“i did.” i confirm.
Nico leans forward, an arm wrapped around my waist to hold me to him as he grabs the package of tinsel from the coffee table.
as he leans back, he spins me around on his lap, my back towards his chest. i can hear the crinkle of plastic, furrowing my brows in confusion.
“what are you doing?” i laugh, attempting to peek over my shoulder.
“i told you i had an idea.”
“mhm,” i hum, “and what is it?”
“safe word?” my brows pull together again at his dismissal of my question.
“stoppen.” i recite the safe word, a german translation of ‘stop’ that he had taught me early in our relationship.
“good girl.”
his words spark a heat within me, blood rushing to my cheeks at his praise.
my arms are pulled behind my back, wrists held together with one of his own, before i feel the scratchy sensation of the tinsel being wrapped around them.
“Neeks,” my breathing picks up, chest rising and falling in quick succession as i feel him tie a knot in the garland.
i wiggle my hands, making sure the restraint isn’t too tight, and when i don’t complain, Nico pushes me up to stand on my feet. his hands spin my hips, my feet shuffling as i turn to face him.
“so pretty, süsse.” i can feel my face redden under his gaze, his gentle compliment causing fire to spread under my skin.
“thank you, Neeks.” my words are murmured softly, spoken as his hands drag along my sides.
his touch slips below my tank top, calloused fingertips smoothing along my heated skin and drawing goosebumps to the top of my flesh. a shaky breath passes my lips, his fingers dragging down until he reaches the waistband of my corduroy skirt.
“we don’t need this.” he tsk’s, popping the plastic button through the hole and letting the skirt pool to the floor around my feet.
cold air hits my now bare skin, my panties dampening as Nico’s hands rub along the sides of my thighs. he pulls me forward until i’m straddling a single leg, my panty covered core sitting on his muscular, jean clad thigh.
my lips part, eyes falling hooded as his hands grip my hips, guiding them back and forth on top of him.
“Nico,” i shudder, letting out a yelp as he smacks a hand against my ass.
“is that what you call me?” he gruffs, dark, lust filled eyes boring into mine.
his hands move my hips faster, his thigh tensing underneath me.
“Captain.” i whimper, my head tipping back as he bounces his leg lightly. a wet patch grows on the fabric of his jeans making him chuckle as i get wetter, my clit grinding down against him.
“soaking my leg like a whore.” he shakes his head as though he disapproves, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “what am i gonna do with you?”
blood rushes through my ears, drowning out the christmas music as i stare at my lover. his eyes are dark, pupils blown and his gaze stern; his thick, prominent eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches me grind along his leg.
the well groomed stubble that accentuates his face scruffs against my cheek as he leans forward, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss.
i moan into his lips, his tongue slipping through and pushing against mine as his hands hasten the pace of my hips.
my strangled gasp breaks our kiss, the fabric of my panties rubbing against my clit making climax approach faster.
“Cap, i’m gonna-” a knot tangles in my stomach, pressure building as my legs begin to shake and my eyes roll back into my head.
my hips are forcibly stopped, my fast approaching orgasm quickly diminishing as Nico holds my hips still. a whine falls from my lips, my eyes flying open to gauge him as pleads are babbled off my tongue.
“please, no, why?” i cry, the corner of my boyfriend’s lips quirking up in a smirk.
“let’s test your memory,” he starts, eyes glaring into mine, “last week, do you remember what you did?”
i rack my brain, filing through everything i did last week before i finally settle on what he’s referencing. sunday, right before his game against the Oilers, i sent him a video i had taken that morning; my fingers buried deep in my pussy, my breath heavy and whimpering as i moaned his name.
we’ve yet to have the chance for an intimate moment since he got back on monday, between his practices, my work schedule, and his game last night, but i had hoped he had forgotten about his promise to punish me for my actions.
“no, Nico, please.” i whine, my hands pulling at the restraints. his hands slip up, sliding over my breasts and letting his thumbs circle my stiffened nipples.
“beg all you want, süsse, i stand by my promises.” his voice is stern and unwavering, his fingers hooking over the top of my tank top.
he yanks the fabric down, my breasts spilling over until the shirt is so far down that it’s held underneath completely underneath them.
“you don’t get to cum until that fire dies down.” my head snaps over to survey the fire, its flame slowly fizzling out. i’d estimate at least another forty-five minutes or so until it’s done for good.
my breath catches in my throat as he takes me by surprise, his lips attaching to my right nipple as his left hand rolls the other between his fingers.
a high pitched moan mingles with the sound of ‘White Christmas’, my arms struggling against the tinsel ties, yearning to bury my fingers into his hair. my spine arches, pushing my breasts further into his face.
i can feel his growing smirk against my skin, his fingers pinching and rolling the left bud as his tongue swirls around the right before sucking it into his mouth.
he hums, the vibrations traveling through my body, and i make a hollow attempt at grinding my hips against his leg, only succeeding in reminding him to wrap his free hand around me, holding my hips still.
“Captain, please.” i plead, my tone high and nasal as i beg, but he just hums again, this time in disagreement.
his lips release my nipple, kissing his way over to the left before repeating the process, now pinching and prodding at the right in a torturous game of teasing.
he slowly begins to rock my hips back and forth, dragging my pulsing clit along his strained thigh as an extra stimulation.
my body shakes, overwhelmed with pleasure as my head falls back, vision going fuzzy as broken sounds fall from my lips.
i can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences, but my brain is urging for me to beg to cum, hoping he’ll show mercy on me. my requests come out babbled and stuttered, not nearly what i had hoped, and Nico chuckles against my skin.
my toes curl as the familiar tightening pressure builds backs up within my stomach, my abdomen clenching as my legs begin to shake. and when Nico doesn’t pull away, i begin to believe that he’s giving me compassion, but as quick as the thought enters my mind, its expelled out.
just as i reach the precipice of my release, my walls tightening around nothing, his lips are pulled away, his hand dropping from my nipple and his arms wrapping tightly around to halt my grinding movements.
frustrated tears pool in my eyes, a silent sob wracking my chest and expelling past my lips in puffs of air. looking back into my boyfriends eyes, his expression is cocky and unforgiving, a smirk resting on his lips.
“awww,” he coos, swiftly turning and dropping me on the couch cushions beside him. “you’re being a good girl now, aren’t you? desperate to cum.”
i nod my head eagerly, shifting around underneath his gaze as i lay uncomfortably atop of my tied back arms.
“wanna cum so bad!” i whimper, my eyes fleeting over to asses the once great fire. it’s next to nothing now, and when i look back at Nico, i can tell he’s displeased by the sight.
“alright, i’ll let you cum.” a weight is lifted off my chest, a sigh of relief huffing past my smiling lips.
i eye my boyfriend eagerly as his fingers tug at the waistband of my panties, pulling them down and dropping them to the floor. he sheds himself of his t-shirt, his tight upper body on full display for me to enjoy as he hooks one of my weakened legs over the back of the couch.
bowing down between my legs, i can feel his hot breath fan over my dripping core, squirming in need as he gets closer and closer to where i so desperately crave his touch. his eyes meet mine, holding contact as he blows cool air directly onto my puffy clit, and chuckling as my hips jerk up towards him.
his arms wrap around my upper thighs, hands sprawling across my lower hips to hold me down as he licks one long stripe through my core.
“captain!”
my head falls back into the cushions as i cry out his name, wishing i could thread my fingers in his hair and push him deeper to where i want him.
he dips down again, tongue circling my clit before sliding back down towards my pussy. his tongue prods into me, flicking once before he really dives in. my back arches from the cushions, breathy moans coaxed out as he begins eating me like a man starved.
his nose nudges against my clit, his fingers sliding up to hold my thighs in a bruising grip as he slurps at my wetness, spreading it around as lubrication.
“cap!” i scream as his lips enclose around my swollen clit, rolling it through his lips a few times before flicking his tongue against it. one leg hooks over his shoulder, pushing him forward as i’m finally able to grind my hips against his face.
relinquishing his duty of holding me still, he plunges two fingers inside of me, curling them up to hit the velvety spot that makes me scream out in pleasure. pumping them in and out, he scissors the appendages, stretching my entrance in a pleasurably painful sensation.
with his fingers keeping me full, his mouth focuses on my clit, repetitively sucking and licking. my eyes roll back in my head, my vision dancing with stars as i feel my orgasm build up for what i believe is the last time.
a third finger pushes its way inside of me, the burning sensation of fullness making my legs shake around him as my breath catches in my throat. my pussy tightens around his fingers, effectively making him aware that i’m close whilst i can no longer speak.
but just when i’m about to cum, my orgasm is cruelly ripped away once more, his fingers pulling out and leaving empty as his mouth is detached from my clit, nothing but cold air hitting against it now.
“no!” i yell, voice gravely and sore as tears flood from my eyes. i open them again to find Nico sitting up on his knees, staring down at me with a dangerous an mocking smirk.
“you didn’t really think i was gonna let you cum, did you, süsse?” he teases, his lips frowning in a faux pout. “oh, you did. the fire wasn’t done yet, sweets.”
my head snaps over towards the fire for the last time, and through the blurry vision of my tears, i can see the final dying embers of the fire, nothing but a faintly orange glow of the logs now.
my chest heaves as i look back at my boyfriend, my face dropped in a pout as salty tears trail down into my hair.
“that was mean, Nico!” i sob, looking anywhere but his eyes.
his cocky expression drops, a look of genuine concern etching across his face as he comes to hover above me.
“oh, baby,” he coos, littering short kisses on both of my cheeks before pressing a long one to my lips. “it’s okay, you can cum now.”
i sniffle, peering up at him through wet lashes, “really this time?”
“yeah, really. but, you know, if it ever becomes too much, you can use your safe word.” i nod along to his words.
“i know, but it wasn’t anything that was too much.” i confess, “it was just mean. you told me i could! and then you didn’t let me!”
“are your arms okay?” he wonders, and i crinkle my nose.
“they’re fine, but this position is uncomfortable.” he nods, backing away and helping me sit up before i whine, “can you just fuck me now?”
a hearty laugh leaves his lips at my switch up, leaning forward to pull me in for a kiss.
“you wanna cum on my cock like a good girl, süsse?” he mutters, pulling back to watch me hastily nod.
his hands grip my hips, flipping me over to lay on my stomach before pulling my hips up so my ass is up in the air.
i wait impatiently, eyes set on the last of the dying embers of the fire as i listen to him unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants down and letting them drop to the floor with a thud.
the couch cushions dip down as he kneels on them behind me, one hand gripping my hip as he uses the other to give a few tugs to his cock.
my hips jerk as he slides his cock through my folds, lubricating himself in my wetness. tapping the tip of his cock against my clit, i let out a breathy whine, pushing my pussy back towards him.
“greedy little slut.” he tsk’s, prodding my entrance with his tip and watching as my walls attempt to suck him in whilst i moan.
he repeats the movement a few more times, teasing me one last time before he finally pushes into me in one swift movement. a squeak passing my parted lips as his cock bottoms out inside of me, filling me up so well.
“oh, Nico!” i breathe out, my body lighting up as his hand smooths over my spine, before gripping my waist.
Nico groans, pulling out and then thrusting back in at a slow speed before gradually picking up the pace. my hands form fists, my nails digging into my palms as he controls my hips, slamming into me and pushing my hips forward before pulling them back against him.
the sound of our skin slapping together and his hard cock sliding in and out of my wet cunt mixes with breathy moans and deep grunts, as well as the christmas music that still floats through the apartment.
the tip of his cock hits the soft, spongey spot inside of me with each stroke, my eyes fluttering shut as i curse, screaming his name without any care of our neighbors hearing.
“this pretty pussy was made for me.” he gruffs, hands tightening around my hips as my walls clench around him, my breathing picking up as i wiggle my hips.
one of his hands slides around my front, his fingertip pressing against my clit and making me whimper as he fucks into me, rubbing the bundle of nerves in figure eights.
“Nico, please!” i beg, the all too familiar feeling of my impending orgasm looming over me as my stomach ties itself in knots.
my legs begin to shake, weakening, and i’m sure if Nico wasn’t holding me up, they would’ve given out.
“let go for me, sweets.” my walls clench at his words, attempting to keep him in the same position as my body seizes up, tensing as i finally reach my long awaited orgasm.
he continues to fuck me through my release, thrusts turning sloppy and hastened as he chases his own, until he finally shudders, his hips stilling as he cums, filling me up with his release.
Nico lets out a shaky sigh, giving us both a moment to let oxygen return to our brains before reaching up and untying the knot of tinsel garland around my wrists. pulling out of me with a hiss, he drops himself to the couch, watching as i sit up and shake out my half-asleep arms.
i slump against his side, pulling my tank top back up to cover my chest as i snuggle closer into his sweaty body.
“i think we’re going to have to clean the couch if you still wanna host a party.” he finally speaks, coaxing a bubble of laughter up from my throat.
“yeah, but i think a shower sounds nice first.” i sigh, pushing myself off the couch to stand up, but my legs feel like jelly underneath me, wobbling until Nico stands, grasping my hand in his.
“you’re right, let’s go.” he hums, helping me towards our bedroom and to our en-suite bathroom.
“who said you were joining me?” i tease, raising an eyebrow; but when he turns to look at me, a lust-driven and domineering look on his face, i shrug, “on second thought, a shower together would be nice.”
“mhm.” he simpers, turning around to turn the shower water on, and i stick my tongue out behind his back; accidentally leaving it out for too long.
he looks at me with eyebrows raised as i hurriedly pull my tongue back into my mouth, my body not nearly ready for another ‘punishment’ before he laughs.
“let’s get you cleaned up, süsse, you must be tired.”
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 5 months
Text
The Danger Zone (Part 12) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 4.3k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY. MINORS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Brief and Not Really Explicit Sexual Content; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: You and Jake take a new step in your relationship.
Series Master List
Master List
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Jake sat across from Javy out on Javy’s back porch. Phoenix, you, and Emma were out together doing something that Jake was sure had to do with the baby, and leaving Jake and Javy to have a quiet afternoon to catch up between themselves. 
“You still don’t know the baby’s gender then?” Javy asked, causing Jake to nod. 
“She wanted to wait, and I didn’t mind.”
“But you have an idea, don’t you?” Javy prodded, knowing Jake as he did. 
“Yeah, I think that the baby will be healthy and happy.” Tapping his fingers on the table, Jake added, “But I sort of—and you cannot tell her this—want it to be a girl.”
“You want a girl?” Javy repeated, not looking surprised. 
“I’d be very happy with a boy. But I feel like a girl, who takes after her mom and looks like her mom, that’s what I keep picturing in my head.” Scratching his chin, Jake looked over at Javy. “The more that kid takes after their mom, the better.”
“How is the future Mrs. Seresin doing anyway?” Javy teased, leaning back in his seat. 
“She’s glowing these days, Javy. I swear. She’s absolutely glowing. And she says that the baby is getting more active. Nothing that I can feel yet, but they’re moving around in there. Mostly at night, which I can tell is going to annoy her eventually, but she’s just so happy every time she can feel the baby. And I mean I can see her bump getting bigger every week. I started taking photos of her so that we can track her growth. And I don’t know what it is but when I’m right next to her, I just feel the need to touch her bump and hold it and just be there.”
“Look at you,” Javy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re smiling more than ever. You’ve got a photo from the ultrasound in your cockpit and in your locker. You spend almost every lunch break calling her. You’re always rushing home to see her.” Javy laughed to himself again. “You’ve gone soft, Jake.” 
“Fuck off, Javy,” Jake sighed without malice. 
“It’s a good look for you,” Javy defended himself. “I mean, you’re the guy who got his callsign for being selfish, Jake.”
“Yeah, thanks to my kid’s uncle.”
“He’s still not over it?” Javy guessed, reaching for his beer bottle. 
“He’ll never get over it,” Jake scoffed with a sense of finality. “Because he’s an idiot who thinks that I took advantage of her and that I’ll do something to hurt or upset her and the baby soon.” Rolling his eyes, Jake added, “He’d probably celebrate if we broke up.”
“I don’t think he’d celebrate . . . in front of her,” Javy added after a moment of thought. 
“He can fuck off for all I care. He’s not getting in between the two of us or our family. If he actually cares about his sister, he’d back off.”
“Has he at least reduced his attitude?”
“He never says anything in front of her. I’m pretty sure that Emma and or Penny would actually drop kick him if he did. And he’s not a complete moron. He doesn’t want to stress her out.” Jake took a sip of his beer. “So, he’s just an asshole when she’s not around.”
“I guess that’s an improvement.”
“Barely. I’m not going to deal with this shit when the baby’s old enough to hear his bullshit and sense the tension between the two of us. I mean, what if the baby overheard him saying shit about me? I’d fucking kill him, Javy, I’m telling you that right now. If he wants to be an uncle to my kid, he’s going to have to get over whatever stick is lodged up his ass.”
“Have you talked to her about it?”
“No. I don’t want to stress her out or pick a fight. It’s going really well right now, Javy, and I’ll never forgive myself if I fuck it up over her idiot brother.”
“She’s aware of it, I’m sure. Her and Nat talk about it, I think. And Emma.” Javy rubbed his cheek as an amused smirk tugged at his lips. “My money’s on Penny to kick his ass honestly.”
“I’d pay to see that.”
“So, you guys are talking about the future?”
“Every day,” Jake agreed. “She wants everything sorted out—or as much as possible—before she gets too far into her third trimester.”
“What do you mean by everything?”
“Getting things put in both of our names so that if something happens to one of us, the other can take care of everything and the baby. Getting our wills updated. Discussing who would take care of the baby if her family’s history repeats itself.”
“And how is that going?”
“We were looking for a house because with the cheaper loans I would get, it just makes more financial sense, and we’ll need the space. And as for the baby, it’s a little more complicated right now because we’re not married, but we’re working on it.”
“Can I make an observation?”
“Sure.”
“Why aren’t you guys just getting married?” Javy asked, causing Jake to pause. “Because a lot of this work would be done if you just signed a piece of paper at town hall. And you’d get benefits, she’d save a shit ton on medical expenses, and there’s no big fight in the hospital if something happens to one of you.” Javy added after a moment, “A huge part of why Nat and I got married was so that if a bird strike or G-LOC situation happened again, the other could actually get information from the hospital and make decisions.”
“I know,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “I was thinking about that.”
“I mean, I get it’s a huge commitment, but you’re already having a baby together. Getting married can’t be a bigger commitment than that.”
“Yeah, it’s not,” Jake agreed, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been thinking about bringing it up to her.”
“Well, did you at least tell her about your family?”
“Javy—”
“—Jake, you’ve got to tell her.”
“I’m just trying to protect her.”
“Leaving her without all of the information is not protecting her, Jake, it’s setting her up for failure. At least tell her about your mother.”  
“Why my mother?”
“Because it explains a lot about you, Jake,” Javy stated, causing him to look down. “And she likes you, for some reason.” 
“Fuck off,” Jake sighed, reaching for his beer. Taking a long sip, he set the bottle down and rotated it around, lost in thought for a moment. “I’ll tell her about it. When the time’s right.”
~~~~~
You woke late on Saturday. You were never an early riser before but pregnancy made waking up early on the weekend impossible. Picking your head off of your pregnancy pillow, which Jake bought for you, you turned to see that Jake was gone, as usual. 
But when you saw a note on his pillow, you sat up. You picked it up and unfolded the paper, smiling to yourself when you saw Jake’s handwriting.
Get your rest because I made plans for us tonight. I still owe you that first date. 
- J
Practically beaming with joy, you laid back down, thinking to yourself about what Jake could have had planned for tonight. You assumed dinner, at least, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to you about where he would take you on a date. As you were rereading the note, you heard the front door open and Jake step inside. You waited for him to walk into the bedroom and smiled at him. 
“Morning. How was your run?”
“Fine. Took a new route through the park,” Jake replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. Moving your shirt out of the way, he pressed another kiss to your bump. “Any movement this morning?”
“Not yet,” you replied, running a hand through Jake’s hair as you smiled softly m. “They only start to move when it’s inconvenient for me.”
“Yeah, that’s my baby in there,” Jake joked, causing you to shake your head at him. 
“So, what are we doing later then?”
“It’s a surprise,” Jake stated, getting off of the bed. “I was thinking that we should leave here around five.”
“You’re not going to tell me anything about it?”
“Dress nicely but nothing crazy. And just make sure that you’re comfortable.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” you called after him as he walked into the bathroom to shower. 
“It wasn’t supposed to.”
You scoffed at his words as he closed the door. Laying down, you decided to stay in bed a little longer as Jake showered. But you sat up when you felt your baby start to move right over your bladder. It started as a little bit of a tickle and then some more discomfort and then you were shifting around, trying to find some sort of relief, and then you were frantically knocking on the door to the bathroom and letting yourself in. 
Jake turned his neck, staring at you with concern and a question on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw you making a beeline for the toilet, he had the audacity to smirk a bit. You shot him a look right back.
“The baby’s moving?” he guessed, letting the hot spray of the shower hit his chest. 
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to concentrate.”
~~~~~
You checked your appearance one last time in the mirror before you grabbed your phone and walked out of the bathroom. Jake was sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for you, dressed in a nice button down tee shirt and a pair of black pants. When you stepped around the corner, he looked up and you instantly felt your cheeks warm as his expression changed and his sharp green eyes studied your figure. 
“Does the dress make my boobs pop out too much?” you asked, adjusting the strap a bit subconsciously. “Or is it too nice? Or not nice enough?”
“You look perfect,” Jake told you, standing up and sliding his phone into his back pocket. He walked over to you and grabbed your hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Ready to go?”
You nodded and Jake led you down to the car. Jake drove your car when the two of you were going somewhere because it was easier for you to get into compared to his truck. And he insisted that it was safer for you to sit in the passenger seat. 
“Where are we going?” you asked Jake, who smiled at you before turning back to the road. 
“It’s a surprise.”
“How far is it?” you asked, shifting in your seat. 
“It’s not too far.”
Jake drove a few more minutes before pulling into a long driveway. And even though you recognized the name at the entrance to the driveway, it still took you a moment to process it. 
“Why did you bring me to the place where Bradley and Emma’s wedding reception was?” you asked softly, more surprised than anything else. 
“Well, when it’s not just for hosting weddings. There’s a regular restaurant attached to it.” Jake pulled into a spot before turning off the car. “And this is where we met for the first time.” Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he turned back to you. “Is that okay?”
“Of course, it is,” you reassured him, resting a hand on his arm. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, let’s go,” you insisted, grabbing your purse. 
The two of you walked inside and were led to your table, which just happened to be on the back patio. You could see the outdoor bar where you and Jake met for the first time from your seat. Had anyone told you that little conversation on those two stools was going to change your life forever, you never would have believed them. 
“You know, I’ve already made a list of everything I want to eat or drink after I have the baby,” you stated, flipping through the menu. 
“What are the top three?”
“Beer, salmon rolls, and pepperoni,” you listed off quickly, causing Jake to snort. 
“All in one sitting?”
“We’ll see how I’m feeling,” you mused, reaching for your water. The waiter came over and took your orders before walking off again. “Emma called me today and mentioned something about throwing a baby shower for us next month. Or a little after that.”
“Do the dads go to that?” Jake asked, causing you to shrug your shoulders. 
“I think we can just do whatever we want. I know that when one of the Kazansky kids had their baby shower, the guys went out and did something together but then they came back and everyone ate together.”
“Whatever you want, we’ll do,” Jake offered, causing you to smile. 
“Thank you. But Emma and Phoenix seem like they’ve got it handled. They said it’s returning the favor for me being their maid of honor. And I kind of agreed to let them make it all a surprise.”
“We’re not doing some crazy gender reveal thing, right?” Jake deadpanned. 
“No, I told them to not do that,” you chuckled, leaning back in your seat. Folding your hands in front of your bump, you asked, “But you’re okay with waiting still? To find out?”
“The baby’s healthy and you’re healthy and that’s all I care about,” Jake stated seriously. “And it’s not like we can control it either.”
“No, we can’t,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “But what do you think? Are we having a boy or a girl?”
“I haven’t really thought about it,” Jake lied, earning a look from you. “Alright, alright, I have. But what do you think we’re having?”
“No, because you’re just going to copy me to try and make me happy, even though I don’t care because we’re just guessing at this point and no one can do anything to change it and it doesn’t even matter at the end of the day.” Leaning forward, you added with a smile, “Just tell me, Jake.”
“I think we’re having a girl,” Jake stated quietly after a moment of thought. 
“I thought we were too, but then the obstetrician moved the monitor during the ultrasound and now I think that we’re having a boy,” you explained, causing Jake to think about it more. “Like she saw something there and moved it away before it was too obvious.”
“Maybe,” Jake agreed. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
He took a sip of his drink before leaning forward with a teasing smile. You cocked an eyebrow as you buttered your slice of bread, shooting him a look right back. 
“How are you feeling now? Feel the need to walk in on me in the shower again? Because next time, you can just join me. No need to put on a show about it.”
You scoffed and tossed the crumpled up straw wrapper at Jake in retaliation. A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned forward and lowered your voice. 
“Says the man who’s been glancing down at my chest ever since I stepped out of our bedroom.”
“I’m looking at your bump where our child is growing,” Jake insisted seriously, causing your smirk to fade and a sheepish expression to come over your face. “But, my eyes have been taking a pit stop between your bump and your eyes because that dress does make your breasts look perfect.”
You lightly kicked him under the table in retaliation, causing him to laugh. The two of you enjoyed your dinner together and talked all about your plans for the future and the baby. It was a first date on paper, but it was obvious to anyone who looked over at you that there was a long history and strong understanding between the two of you. Jake paid the tab—though you tried to grab it from him—before the two of you got up and walked out to the parking lot. 
“So, what do you think?” Jake asked as the two of you threaded your fingers together and slowly swung your hands back and forth. “Will I get a second date?”
“I’ll think about it,” you joked, leaning on Jake as you walked. 
“You’ll think about it?” Jake repeated as the two of you got closer to your car. 
“Well, it’s only the first date,” you added, shrugging your shoulders and laughing to yourself when you saw Jake’s offended look. “Maybe if you’re a decent kisser, I’ll think about it a little more.”
“Is that a challenge?” Jake asked, gently reaching up to cup your cheek. 
“It could be.”
Jake leaned down and tilted your chin up, bringing you in for a soft kiss. He started slowly, teasing you like you teased him a moment ago. And when you started to press against him, deepening the kiss, you could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your lips. Pulling back from your lips, and leaving you wanting more, Jake took a step back. 
“And my chances now?”
“I guess I can give you a second date,” you replied before grabbing Jake by the front of his shirt. 
Your lips met again and Jake rested his hand on your hips, gently backing you up against your car. He rubbed his hand over the front of your bump before raising it to cup your cheek, purposefully brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of the valley between your breasts. And feeling you suck in a breath and press against him further, Jake pulled your lips apart and rested his forehead against your own. 
“Any chance that we can continue this back at the apartment?” Jake whispered against your lips. 
“I’d love to,” you replied softly, before smirking to yourself. “But I can’t.”
“Why not?” Jake asked, sounding concerned.
“I have this rule,” you teased, leaning back against your car, “that I can’t sleep with a guy after the first date. It’s nothing personal, just one of my rules.”
“And if the guy already got you pregnant? Can you make an exception?”
“Hmm,” you hummed, running a hand down his chest. 
You held him in suspense for a moment, even though you honestly wouldn’t have minded if he slid your underwear to the side and done it against your car right then and there. And even though you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted him. You needed him. 
Placing your hand over his own, you offered him a genuine, loving smile. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 
“Take me to bed, Jake,” you whispered to him. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the two of you eventually got back to your shared apartment, you let Jake pull you down the hall and into your bedroom. The two of you gently undressed each other before Jake helped you up and onto the bed. 
“You’re not going to be comfortable on your back, are you?” Jake asked as you sat back on your heels. 
“Probably not for long,” you agreed as Jake climbed up onto the bed too.
“Then come here,” Jake coaxed, laying on his back. 
You crawled over and Jake grabbed your hips, lining the two of you up. Your bump, which wasn’t so small anymore, rested against Jake’s strong chest. 
“Tell me if anything hurts or isn’t comfortable and we’ll stop, okay?” he assured you. 
“Okay.”
You let out a shaky gasp as Jake pulled your hips down. His hands were strong on your hips and he welcomed the rock of your hips against him. You were a bit worried about suffocating Jake and tried to hold up your weight, but he didn’t slow down until you practically collapsed against his chest. 
Jake gently rolled you onto your side and laid down beside you, gently running his fingers down your cheek. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and offered him a giddy smile. 
“Are you alright?” he asked softly. 
“Yeah, Jake,” you giggled, “I’m better than alright.”
“I haven’t lost my touch then?” 
“Not yet,” you mused, pressing a romantic kiss to his lips. 
After taking a moment to recover, you sat up and climbed onto his lap. Jake rested his back against the headboard, letting you set your own pace with his hands there to support you. As your rhythm started to slow until you could only rock your hips, Jake gently rotated the two of you so that your bump rested against a pillow and your weight rested on your hands and knees before he sat up behind you.  
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Jake told you. 
“It’s not enough right now,” you practically whined, pushing back against him. 
Jake rolled his hips forward as his lips pressed a searing kiss against your neck, causing you to moan. The two of you quickly lost yourselves in each other until your body tensed up again. You buried your face into the comforter as your body shook. Jake kept moving above you for a few more moments before he let out a low noise and rolled over beside you.
You smiled at him as he laid down and caught his breath. Your eyes fluttered softly in the dim lighting as curled your body into Jake’s warm chest. He could see that you were exhausted and were probably about to fall asleep. Jake leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“You should go to the bathroom first before you fall asleep,” Jake suggested, causing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “I can clean up otherwise.”
“Let my legs recover for a second, Seresin. Unless, you want a Bambi on ice situation.”
Jake snorted in reply, causing you to smile.
~~~~~
When Jake got called into Cyclone’s office after completing his training exercises, Jake knew that meant two things—he either fucked up or he did something incredibly amazing. And he couldn’t think of anything that he fucked up lately, so he was hoping that the latter was true. 
“Sir,” he greeted Cyclone, standing at attention. 
“At ease, Hangman. Please, sit,” Cyclone stated, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.
Jake sat down and stared at Cyclone, who seemed relatively at ease. He shifted a few papers around his desk before picking up a folder. Cyclone held it out to Jake, who immediately flipped it open, reading through the documents enclosed. 
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Seresin,” Cyclone replied, causing Jake to look up from the paperwork. His expression didn’t give away any emotion, but internally Jake was swelling with pride and joy. “It’s well deserved and I’m sure that you’ll do well in your new role.” 
“And I’m to remain here?” Jake asked, looking quickly through the papers. “In Miramar?”
“Yes, you will,” Cyclone replied, allowing Jake to relax for a moment. But only for one moment. “Though, I should warn you that your chance of being deployed in the next few months has slightly increased.” 
“How slight?” 
“I would say guaranteed at some point within the next six months,” Cyclone answered honestly, causing Jake’s joy to disappear in a flash. “Not that it would be for an extended deployment, but you’ll certainly be on a short list, Hangman.” 
“I understand, sir,” he stated, looking down at his paperwork. 
A note of silence passed between them and Cyclone leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in front of him. Glancing at photos of his own family, Cyclone turned back to Hangman, who was reading through the paperwork in front of him. 
“Hondo tells me that your girlfriend is expecting,” Cyclone continued, causing Jake to nod in confirmation, though he kept his gaze focused on the paperwork. “Congratulations.” 
“Thank you, sir.” 
“I wish that I could offer you a guarantee, Hangman. Any sort of guarantee.”
“That’s not the industry that we’re in, sir,” Jake replied simply, picking his head up. “I understand that. She understands that.” 
“The promotion ceremony is in two weeks. Saturday,” Cyclone responded after a few moments. “I look forward to meeting her then.” 
“Yes, sir.” 
~~~~~
You walked into your and Jake’s apartment building, and stopped to grab your mail. Unlocking the small mailbox, you pulled the door open and grabbed the small batch of envelopes. You walked over to the elevator as you flipped through them, mentally organizing them. 
Bill. Spam. Spam. Bill. More spam. Even more spam. And . . .
You paused, looking at the last envelope. It was blue and shaped like a card, though it wasn’t close to either of your birthdays. Flipping it over, you paused when you saw that the return address was in Texas. And the name Georgia Seresin had to be Jake’s mom’s name, wouldn’t it? 
Jake got a card from his mom. 
Though you thought it was weird, especially because Jake swore up and down that he didn’t talk to his parents, you brushed it off. It wasn’t addressed to you, so it wasn’t yours to open. You would just tell Jake about it when he got home. 
Taking the elevator up, you headed into your apartment. Setting the mail down in the corner, you walked over to the couch and flopped down, exhausted from your day. Turning on the fan that Jake set up on the coffee table for you, you laid down and scrolled through your phone. 
And then promptly fell asleep a minute later.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
Text
Used to be Young || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader Summary: Being the life of the party isn't all it's cracked up to be but you manage to turn over a new leaf and start afresh after being dumped by your first love. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, mentions of drugs and alcohol, angst, hurt/comfort WC: 2.5k
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A few years earlier… You barely registered the words coming out of Charles’ mouth, the arrogance of youth numbing you to what you were about to lose. You had a career that had exploded overnight, an album in the top charts, more money than you knew what to do with. How could you lose anything after everything you had achieved? You were invincible.
“It’s over, I can’t do this anymore,” Charles repeated over the loud music filling the open bar. He cast his eyes over you from the skimpy dress that left little to the imagination to your red eyes from the joint you had shared with your back up dancers. “I don’t even recognise you.”
“Where are you going?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop as you pressed your lips to his cheek. You kissed your way across his jaw before nipping his ear and laughing. “We’re just having fun! Lighten up, Charles.”
“No, you’re having fun,” he said as he peeled your fingers off his shirt. “If you want to go wild, then go wild, but I’m not going to stick around to watch this shit.”
You let him go. You watched him leave as the healing skin behind your ear began to itch with your latest tattoo. You turned away before the crowd swallowed him whole, your fingers already reaching for another shot of liquor.
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Winter Break - Music Award Show Charles would recognise your voice anywhere, no matter how much time passed he could still locate it in a crowd. It was as if the frequency of your voice was one he was attuned to and it called to him when he was meant to be focusing on the interviewer before him.
It had been a year since you last toured, a year since you last released a song. Charles knew, because he still listened to your albums and watched every music video- much like how you still followed his Formula 1 career. He waited for any news about you, but the last year had been silent. Your social media was deleted, paparazzi photos few and far between but what he had seen had made his heart ache. You had changed, no longer the carefree spirit he fell in love with in a whirlwind romance swimming in alcohol and snapshot decisions.
Charles couldn’t help but wonder what you had been doing in your absence. Had you met someone like he had? Had you fallen in love and then fallen out of love like he had? He wanted to know if you were happy.
Charles was in a daze as he took his seat. His invitation to the award show had come thanks to the rising popularity of his sport mixed with his music and he scanned the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He knew you were there, he knew it with every fibre of his being, he just needed to see you.
The lights dimmed and goosebumps prickled beneath the suit he wore as your voice caressed his ear. He could have sworn you were sitting behind him, serenading him and only him, but there you were - right where you belonged.
The truth is bulletproof, there's no foolin' you I don't dress the same Me and who you say I was yesterday Have gone our separate ways
Charles could barely breathe as the soft lighting warmed your skin, setting you in a glow that was somehow both powerful and ethereal. There was no need for any theatrics when your voice was emotive enough to outperform any dancers or pyrotechnics. All you needed was a stage and a microphone.
Left my livin' fast somewhere in the past 'Cause that's for racin' cars Turns out open bars lead to broken hearts And goin' way too far
Your eyes were closed, brows pinched, as if the memory of that night hurt even now. The huge screens around the room were filled with the image and Charles swallowed the lump in his throat as regret filled him for his role in it all.
I know I used to be crazy I know I used to be fun You say I used to be wild I say I used to be young
Charles closed his eyes as they began to burn, but still your voice infiltrated his soul and reverberated with the truth.
You tell me time has done changed me That's fine, I've had a good run I know I used to be crazy That's 'causе I used to be young
Charles forced himself to watch the stranger he loved flourish before his eyes. He had seen you grow from a teenager into a young adult, thinking the flower that blossomed was the final product. Like the dandelions you had blown to the breeze and wished upon with him years ago, you had shed the petals of immaturity and become a woman commanding the wind to carry her higher.
You hated how the spotlight burned your skin and you told yourself it was the lamp that made your eyes water as you screwed them shut. 
The words you had penned on the back of a scrap of paper had come to you on a Sunday afternoon. You weren’t the religious type, but Sunday was a holy day in your house and your worship began at lights out. Words had failed you when the partying stopped. You wondered who you were without the late nights and endless faces that enabled you to lose your values, your friends, your love. You thought your music had died with your younger self. 
But on that Sunday, something had changed. On that Sunday, you saw a man at his lowest and heard the heartache in his voice. On that Sunday, you watched a man carry more burden than any shoulders could bear and somehow, somehow, he smiled. Thousands of miles away in Brazil, Charles had taught you a lesson in letting go, of hope and resilience and maturity. 
The words had come easily after that.
Take onе, pour it out, it's not worth cryin' 'bout The things you can't erase Like tattoos and regrets, words I never meant And ones that got away
You didn’t plan to open your eyes until the song was over, you didn’t want to see what the audience thought of the performance that was so unlike how you used to sound, but you did it anyway. The spotlight blinded you for a moment before your eyes adjusted and time seemed to freeze when you found Charles staring back. 
Time had changed him too, his jawline had sharpened and the suit fitted his filled out body so much better than they ever did. A pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose and changed his entire face so that he could never be mistaken as anything but a man who was comfortable in his own skin.
He used to say you completed him but now you knew you had only filled the piece of his heart that was missing after his father died. You couldn’t complete a boy who was still growing into a man, it was impossible when you were both too young to know what complete even meant. Complete didn’t mean whole, it was just the acceptance of who you are and forgiving who you were. 
You weren’t in some grandiose ballgown or shock-inspiring barely-there outfit, you wore what you felt comfortable in. Charles smiled, his dimple appearing as you slipped the microphone from the stand and walked to the edge of the stage. His eyes never left yours as you took a seat facing him and swung your feet in the open air, returning the smile.
I know I used to be crazy Messed up, but, God, was it fun I know I used to be wild That's 'cause I used to be young
You may have been the one singing but you heard him loud and clear when his hand rose up above his head. 
Those wasted nights are not wasted I remember every one I know I used to be crazy That's 'cause I used to be young
You heard him loud and clear when he made no move to wipe the tears on his cheeks.
You tell me time has done changed me That's fine, I've had a good run I know I used to be crazy That's 'cause I used to be young
There were no words that passed between you as you left the stage, but when he rose to his feet you heard him loud and clear.
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The loud knock on your door echoed around the temporary dressing room but the voice that followed was softer. Your fingers rested on the door handle until you took a deep breath and turned it. The air left your lungs as you were struck by the image of him standing in your doorway, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other in his hair as he wondered if he was making a mistake.
Up close, he looked even more handsome but it was his cologne that took you deep into the past. The intensity of the CK bottle used to be overpowering on the senses when he would douse himself in the stuff, but now he wore a complex, rich scent that invited you to lean closer and inhale. His finer tastes had matured along with the rest of him.
“Hey,” he said as he looked into your room, taking in the details from the water bottles to the ambient sounds you relaxed to. A smile transformed his face and he stepped inside when you opened the door wider in invitation. “Is this my music?”
“It helps me to relax,” you admitted as you closed the door behind him. 
“Your song is…” he shook his head as he trailed off, like he was struggling to articulate what he wanted to say and he had to settle for something less because he couldn’t quite grasp the word, “beautiful.”
“Thank you.” You smiled shyly at your feet and fiddled with your hair that had been styled up for the red carpet walk. 
Charles’ eyes followed your hand and widened before he grabbed it. The warmth of his skin on yours was something you had never been able to replicate, there was no man or woman whose touch could come close to his. You knew because you had tried and tried before resigning yourself the hard fact that you had lost the best thing you had. 
“Is that…my number?” His fingertips turned your head to see the tattoo tucked behind your ear.
You laughed as you remembered how you were going to surprise him once it healed, but he had already gone by then. “Yeah, it is. And I don’t regret it, before you ask.”
“I’m glad.” The corners of his lips curled up as he dropped his hand back to his side. “I have so many questions, but I think they would take all night. How have you…what have you…god, I don’t even know where to start.”
“As it happens, I have no plans,” you said as you took a seat on the couch and patted the space beside you.
“No after party?”
You shook your head as he sat down and you grabbed your bottle of water from the coffee table. “That’s not my scene anymore.”
Charles draped his arm across the couch as he tucked one leg up and settled so he could face you. “What were you going to do after the show tonight then?”
“Honestly?” You chuckled at the question and picked at the label on the bottle. “I was going to go home, order a pizza and watch the new season of Drive to Survive.”
Charles bit his lip as he tried not to laugh. “Really?”
“Don’t laugh,” you feigned annoyance as you slapped his hand. “I’m missing the races so it will have to do until next month. Are you excited?”
He caught your hand before you could take it back and he traced his fingers over the splatterings of new tattoos you had collected throughout the years. “Hmm, I’m optimistic.”
“Always were,” you murmured as you let your hand relax in his. “But what about the car?”
“Why don’t you come to testing and find out?” He seemed to come to his senses as he dropped your hand. “You’re probably busy and we’re practically strangers now. Shit, you probably have a boyfriend. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Charles, shut up,” you laughed as you caught his face in your palms and felt the texture of the short beard he now sported. “I know you too well that we could never really be strangers.”
“We’ve both changed.” His head lowered into your hands and you watched his green eyes search your face for the wild child he used to know.
“We’ve grown up, there’s a difference.”
His breath whispered across your wrists as he looked down at the distance closing between your bodies. “So do you?”
“Do I what?” 
“Have a boyfriend.”
You smiled sadly. “I could never have a boyfriend. It wouldn’t be fair when my heart always belonged to someone else.”
Charles started to lean towards you, his eyes on your lips as if he could already taste him, but you pulled away. Hurt flashed in those eyes and you wanted to erase it immediately, it took every ounce of control you had not to pull him back into a kiss. 
“We’re not strangers, Charles,” you said softly as you took his hand and tried to get him to look at you again, “but we aren’t those people any more.”
“Okay,” he nodded as he understood what went unsaid, “then we’ll get to know each other again. When did you become the sensible one?”
“After my stupidity cost me you, I suppose.”
The rest of the award show didn’t hold any interest after the conversation in your dressing room so you had both disappeared. The evening had been mild with the worst of the winter weather already passing, so you had enjoyed the quieter streets that had been closed for the night. Charles had kept you company and you both went unrecognised as you walked arm in arm to the pizzeria you promised was the best around. For a man who worked a lot of the time in Italy that was going to be tested when you got home.
It was midnight by the time you reached your apartment, the tower clock across the street tolling for the start of a new day. You would look back on that moment and realise it was then that the slate was cleaned. Whatever conversations that happened or didn’t happen were obsolete, whatever mistakes made before that moment were gone.
In the early hours on a Sunday of all days, you stepped inside your home with Charles at your side. Neither of you knew what the future held but by the same token neither of you were ready for this to be the end. After all, this was a new beginning.
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thesuperiorrobin · 1 year
Text
“He lost his virginity?!?”
❥pairing: Damian Wayne x fem!Reader
❥word count: 695
Summery: the batfamily notice Damian acting off these past couple of months and come up with weird ideas as to why
Warning: mentions of the loss of virginity. Slightly cursing’
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No one really paid much attention to Damian at first. It was normal every night. Everyone would hang out in the batcave, Bruce by the computer doing nightly Batman work and the others either sparring in the middle or doing their own separate thing. Damian would come late as usual. He normally takes on the “night shift” as one would call it—glancing at the city's dangerous streets before he switches off with Jason. It was the same.
Jason and Dick were sparring while Tim watched, having been beaten by Jason early—Dick challenged him. Both men Holden had a fight and both of them paid no mind when Damian came back from his patrol. Until he walked right past them and Jason got a whiff of his scent. It was his body Odor no, it didn’t smell bad at all. It actually smells like perfume. Not cologne because there’s a distinct difference between the two.
Damian Wayne smelt like Ariana Grande god is a woman's perfume.
Now how Jason knew that was a mystery. But now he was taken aback by the smell; it left an opening for Dick to land a blow. And he did. A very hard one at that which nicked the air out of Jason and he fell to the ground.
“Ha!” Dick laughed out in victory “got your ass!”
Jason mumbles something under his breath as he rubs the pain away from his side harshly. Tim’s chuckles could be heard from afar and Jason glared at him. Dick out stretches his arm and hand. A gesture that helps Jason off the ground and onto his feet.
“Somethings off about the demon spawn” Jason groans out as he bends back and a slight crack can be heard from behind.
“Little D? I haven’t seen anything strange coming from him”
Jason rolls his eyes “yeah because you’re too busy ogoaling kory to notice that the spawn of satan smells like Ariana grande's God is a women perfume”
“I-“
“How do you know what Ariana’s perfume smells like Jason?” Tim asked. An amused grin plays on his lips as he stares at the older man.
“Barbra uses it a lot”
“Mhm sure”
“It’s true!” Jason yells “to be honest I’m more of a Lady Gaga fan. Ariana’s alright I guess”
Dick lets out a dramatic gasp, catching the other two men’s attention. “What if he has a girlfriend?!”
“Doubt it. Have you personally met him? That boy need to fix his attitude before he can get with a girl”
“Good point”
“Don’t be rude you two”
That’s when they decided they were going to break their boundaries. Only by a little, not a lot. They all kept a close ear and eye on him. Every night they would watch him. A little creepy sure but they notice that something would be off about it. One day he came back from patrol with messy hair—it was more messy than usual. The next day came back with his mask slightly crooked. And then the day after that day he comes back smelling like women's perfume, his hair is messy and his mask is crooked. Not to mention his skin was glowing. Dick was the first to say something.
“ oh my god he’s turning into Bruce!” He was more dramatic than the other two were. “He lost his Virginity!”
“How do you know he lost it!?”
“That boy was glowing Todd! He was glowing!”
“Okay what if he’s been taking good care of his skin? I’ve noticed a lot less bumps on his face”Jason taps his cheek. Dick still believes Damian is turning out to be like Bruce. Which is honestly far from it considering the fact that Damian has mentioned a few times that he doesn’t want to be like his father at all. It was decided whether or not he should tell Bruce but it wasn’t any of his business and it would just seem like Dick was sticking his nose somewhere he shouldn’t have in the first place. Meanwhile Jason and Tim were beating money in the corner.
“I bet forty he does his skin care routine at barbas house”
____________________________________________
Jason Todd is a lady Gaga fan he told me that himself 😋
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literaila · 6 months
Note
I saw someone else ask this with a completely diff character, but "would you still love me if i was a worm" with tasm peter pls and ty
worming
tasm!peter x reader
warnings: this is ridiculous but so is peter.
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*
“babe,” peter calls, through the hallway, from the bathroom, his voice scaring you while you open the front door.
what a wonderful thing, to be greeted first thing with the sound of your boyfriend yelling at you.
“one sec,” you call back, much quieter, and slip off your shoes. despite the fact that your eyes ache from staring at your computer all day, and your throat is sore for some unknown reason, you smile.
stupid peter with his stupid smile and his stupid voice, and stupid you for letting him steal your heart away. for trusting him with it.
you take your hair out of its ponytail, and knock on the door as you enter the bedroom, just for decency sake. “what’s up, kid?”
but peter isn’t in there.
you frown, following the moan that echoes your voice into the bathroom.
peter is standing there, his fingers tangled in his mop of hair, frowning at himself in the mirror.
his pout is both adorable and irritating.
“bad hair day?” you ask him, leaning against the doorframe. a silly smile on your face, despite peter’s displeased stance.
he turns to look at you, and you watch his eyes brighten, albeit for a moment, and then he turns away. “not funny.”
you raise a brow but walk towards him. “did you need me to tell you that you need to brush your hair?”
he nudges you with his elbow as you go to stand next to him. you survey him in the mirror, sticking your tongue out.
peter doesn’t respond. his arms are crossed and his face is unamused.
“okay, peter, what’s up?”
“i have a question.”
you blink, then gesture with your hand for him to continue.
peter pouts again, then finally let’s his hair rest. “would you still love me if i was a worm?”
you choke on whatever smile was on your face. “um, sorry?”
“would you?” he repeats, turning to look at you. “if i was a worm?”
“i’m confused.”
“what’s confusing about this?”
you snort. “to start, the fact that you haven’t even said hello to me before starting this conversation…”
peter glowers. “hello.”
you laugh. “are you actually upset about this?”
“answer the question.”
“not sure what the point is,” you tell him, shrugging and turning away to wipe at some imaginary spot on your cheek. “considering that you are a worm, and i do love you.”
“hey,” peter pulls a stray strand of your hair. “i’m serious.”
“so am i.”
“would you love me if i was a worm?” he demands, staring down at you like his eyes might burn a hole through your head.
you laugh again, unable to stop yourself from turning towards him. “peter, i am so confused. i love you,” you tell him, “obviously.”
“but would you love me if i was about this small,” he holds two fingers together, “and couldn’t speak to you?”
“oh, so you think i’m that vain?” you tease, poking his stomach. “that i only like you for your looks?”
“are you telling me that you’re attracted to worms?” peter deadpans, and you don’t miss the hint of smile on his face. he knows that you know he’s ticklish.
“are you asking me if i’d fall in love with a worm?” you retort, shaking your head and looking at the ceiling. “this is ridiculous.”
“it’s a genuine question.”
“okay, peter,” you look back to him, raising a brow. “would you love me if i was a worm?”
“obviously,” he answers, quick enough that the words sound fake. “you’d be a cute worm.”
“i think i’m offended by that.”
“i’d always love you.” peter repeats, like that’s what he wants to get out of this conversation. some secret intimacy in his words that he can’t hide.
a genuine, glowing smile breaks out on your face before you can stop it. you coo, almost silently. “aw, peter. are you feeling lonely?”
you reach a hand to touch his cheek, but he waves you away, sighing.
“stop,” he says, “i cant believe you wouldn’t love me if i was a worm.”
“if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.”
you lean into him then, and even peter can’t push you away as you wrap your arms around him, squeezing his air and his warmth. you leech yourself onto him, planning to never ever let go.
“don’t worry, i’ll worm you right up.”
“worm puns aren’t going to distract me from this conversation,” peter mutters, but his words are muffled because he’s hugging you back, his lips on your head.
you laugh into his chest. “can you feel me worming right into your heart?”
peter flicks your head. and then his hands trail down your waist, warmth and aspiration in one touch.
“i missed you, today,” you tell him, quietly, “even if you didn’t kiss me hello.”
“sorry.”
you look up at him, mesmerized by his pout and his soft eyes. already, he looks more at peace. “don’t worry, sugar. i’ll make it all better.”
“i didn’t ask for this.”
“you needed a hug,” you tell him. “and i am a willing and able volunteer.”
peter signs into you. his shoulders relax, and his breathing evens out. even you can feel the distance fading, his fake fury ebbing.
“i would love you,” you whisper to him. “if you were a worm. or a cat. or a goddamn wall.”
peter pulls back just so you can watch him smile.
“okay?”
he nuzzles his nose into yours. “okay.
“will you kiss me now?”
peter is happy to oblige.
*
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saeyoungchoismaid · 6 days
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hi it's not seb Saturday yet but I just wanted to throw this idea down. Sebastian chilling outside in the rain in his usual spot before seeing the farmer trudge out from the mines all bloodied and bruised ("I'm alright, really—") and it's like an immediate panic switch is flipped for sebastian because yoba above they look like a vampire's wet dream out here. They either patch farmer up at their house or at Sebastian's room lol (could be funny if the farmer ends up crashing on his bed/couch for the night, then leaves quite early but not without leaving seb a gift they got from the mines.... : ,) anyway that's it)
Awe my first Sebastian Saturday ask yay! Bro this request is so juicy HEHE. (Side note: sorry if this isn't that good or feels rushed. I haven't wrote anything in months but I'm honestly proud of myself for cranking 2k words out)
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gif originally uploaded by @starwberrymark
Sebastian listens to the rock music that’s softly coming from the garage as he works. He lets out another low curse when more oil leaks out of his motorcycle and gets on him. He should be used to it. His clothes are covered in it anyway. He sighs and sets down his wrench, taking a seat on the ground by the front tire as he snatches up his rag and wipes his hands clean. Well, as best as he could. He then takes a swig from his water bottle, eyeing the clouds forming above him. Looks like a storm is blowing in. 
He keeps working for maybe another thirty minutes or so before he starts to feel the skies open up. The rain starts gentle, a few droplets starting to fall around him and onto his bike. “Welp…” he grumbles, grabbing his bike and starting to roll it back into the garage. Once secured, he shuts the radio off and closes the garage. 
He places his hands onto his hips, surveying the rain. A ghost of a smile starts to appear on his face as the rain starts to fall harder. He steps back out into it and begins to head towards the lake. He takes his pack of cigs out and smacks them against his hand, inhaling deeply. He’s always loved the smell of rain. 
Once at his usual spot, he takes a cigarette out and holds it up to his lips. He then slips his lighter out of his pocket and protects the end from the wind and rain to light it. Once the flame has caught the end of his cig, he inhales deeply, causing an orange hue to glow from the stick. 
He stands there for a while, just admiring how the water falls onto the lake or how the forest begins to smell when it’s wet. His eyes move towards the entrance of the mines when he thinks he sees movement. Through the rain, that’s starting to come down harder, he can’t really see much. He squints his eyes and moves his head around, trying to get a better look at what was going on. 
His eyes go wide when he sees you hobbling down the path. “(Y/n)!” he shouts in surprise, dropping his cig into a puddle and dashing over to you. Upon getting closer to you, he sees the bruises blooming on your skin and the cuts oozing blood. “Oh my god…” he mumbles, his heart breaking the longer he looks at you. 
“Hey, Sebastian,” you greet him as cheerily as you can muster, trying to slap a smile on your face. The pain makes it a little hard to do though. “Don’t worry about all this. I’m fine, really. Just got a bit scraped up in the mines. Those monsters are-”
“You’re not fine! You’re bleeding!” he shouts, gesturing to you. Before you can respond, he’s wrapping one of your arms around his shoulders for you to lean against him. “C’mon, I’ll help you to my house.” 
“Your house? But-”
“No but’s! You’re seriously hurt and Harvey’s clinic is already closed. You don’t seem too badly injured where we need to bother him, but I’m definitely not letting you go home without patching you up first,” Sebastian argues. You let out a sigh, realizing how serious he is about all of this. 
“Okay…fine…” you grunt out, not having the energy to fight him on it anymore. 
When you get to his place, no one seems to be home. At least, no one is in the front of the house. Sebastian leads you down the stairs and opens the door to his room. You’ve only been in his room a few times and never for long. Normally just when you have stuff for his commissions that he posts outside of Pierre’s store. He’s always very grateful, but he’s not much of a talker, so you just never end up staying around for too long. Besides, you have way too much shit going on in your day anyway. 
He sets you down onto the black couch that’s right by his door and you’re happy to be off of your feet. “I’ll go grab the first aid kit,” he says right before dashing up the stairs to go do that. You grunt and lean back against the couch, the cool air of the house making you shiver in your wet clothes. 
When he returns, he sees you shivering and bites his lip. “Here,” he says, setting down the first aid kit and going over to his dresser at the far end of the room. “Change into these,” he says, offering you a pair of pajamas. You shakily reach your hands out and take them, nodding your head as you stand up. 
You two stare at each other for a moment, unmoving. Sebastian’s eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re waiting for. “Oh! Sorry! Um, I’ll just, uh-” he stutters out as he turns around, completely red in the face. With his back to you, you slowly start stripping out of your clothes, a shy smile on your face. You do your best to avoid getting any blood or dirt on his clothes. Thankfully, the shirt and pants he gave you are both black. Maybe that’s why he gave you that specific pair. 
“Done,” you mumble before crashing back onto the dark cushions. He hesitates for a second before slowly turning around. 
He’s then back in front of you in a second, kneeling on the floor and moving your limbs around to survey your wounds. Once getting an eyeful of them all, he grabs the first aid kit and starts patching you up. You remain silent as he works, even when it hurts, you keep your lips sealed. 
After a while, a thought comes to you. “How are you so good at this?” you ask curiously. His eyes flicker up to yours before going back to your arm where he is currently rubbing in a cream on one of your darker bruises. 
“Let’s just say I…wasn’t exactly always the best-behaving kid,” he replies with a shrug, a smirk starting to form on his lips. 
“Oh?” you ask, looking down at him with your own smirk. Seeing your smirk, he huffs a laugh through his nose. 
“Nothing interesting, I assure you. I just…I’m not the biggest people person…” he says softly, moving onto a cut that he’s cleaned up to bandage it. 
“That’s okay,” you reassure, unsure of what else you could say in this moment. 
“Yeah, I guess. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but I had Sammy, and later on Abigail. They introduced me to some more people, so I have more than enough friends to last me a lifetime now,” he replies with a light chuckle. You can’t help but smile at that. You’re happy to see that he’s, well, happy. 
“We’re friends, aren’t we?” you ask after a few moments of silence, hesitating in asking. After doing a few commissions for him and hanging out with him and the others at festivals, you two slowly started getting closer. You typically end up hanging out after a long day at work and you head over to Gus’ only to find that Sebastian and the others are playing pool. At first, you’d only watch, but after warming up to them, you started playing. 
The last time you played together, you two ended up staying until Gus closed the place down. You two were one of the few people left there, Sam and Abigail being long gone. Y’all ended up walking to the beach and sitting on the pier, sharing jokes and swapping stories. It was one of the best nights of your life. It’s definitely your favorite memory you’ve made since moving to Pelican Town. 
“Yeah…of course we are…” he replies softly, almost sounding hesitant and not looking into your eyes. 
“Good. I’m glad,” you say softly, giving him a sweet smile. He finally looks up at you and gives you a small smile in return. 
He’s then clearing his throat and standing up. “Well, I’m all done,” he says, wiping his hands onto his damp jeans. He glances at his clock and grunts. “It’s pretty late and sounds like it’s still raining. So, if you want to stay…you can…” He starts off confidently but ends on a quiet, unsure note. 
Heat rises to your face at that. “Oh, um, sure. Thank you…” you whisper, looking down at your hands. 
“Don’t mention it. You can, uh, take the bed, if you want. I’ll take the couch,” he offers. He then walks over to his closet and opens it up, revealing extra pillows and blankets at the top of the closet. 
“What? No, no! That’s okay! I’ll take the couch. I don’t want to inco-”
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he interrupts, pulling some blankets free from their tangled mess in his closet. You sigh and nod your head even though he’s not looking at you. 
“Alright, fine,” you say as you stand up, limping over to the bed. You sit there and watch him make the couch comfy for himself. 
As he moves around his room and goes to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you end up lying down at some point. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you do vaguely remember feeling something brush against your forehead and what sounded like someone wishing you a good night. 
When you wake up, you feel well-rested and ready to take on the day. You sit up and rub the leftover sleep from your eyes and then stretch. You wince when the bruises on your ribs ache, reminding you of what happened yesterday. You turn towards the time and find it’s six in the morning. Ah, guess old habits die hard. 
Hearing rustling and a deep sigh, you turn your attention now to the couch. Sebastian is still out cold, and probably will be for another four hours, at least. You smile and slip out of the bed, walking over to him. You smile at how peaceful he looks, his usual RBF nowhere to be seen. 
Not wanting to disturb him, you leave him be as you gather up your still-wet clothes. You’ll return his pjs to him later, after you’ve cleaned them and made sure they’re free of blood. Feeling something hard in your pocket, you slip your hand inside and remember what you found yesterday. Glancing at Sebastian, you gently set it down onto the table beside his couch that’s missing his radio. You then hobble over to his desk and search for paper and something to write with. Upon finding what you’re looking for, you scribble down a little note and leave it there next to your gift. You give him one last look before starting to limp up the stairs. Because it’s so early, no one else is up yet, so you slip out unnoticed thankfully. You’re not sure how you’d explain yourself to Robin. 
When Sebastian wakes up, the first thing he does is look over at his bed. He frowns when he finds you not there and he feels his heart sink a little. He sits up and runs his hands through his hair before scrubbing at his face. Upon dropping his hands, he notices two items resting before him. He practically has stars in his eyes as he picks the Obsidian up. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. 
Noticing the paper next to it, he picks that up next. As he reads your note, he starts to smile harder and harder. 
Dear Sebastian, 
Thank you for patching me up. Don’t think I ever actually properly thanked you last night. It means a lot to me that you’d go through all the trouble. I want you to have this. A little birdy once told me that you’ve always wanted to see Obsidian. I hope you can mark this off your bucket list now. If there’s anything else you want to see, I’m sure I can make it happen ;) Text me :) xxx-xxx-xxxx
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