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#you all don't know how much love i carry for you
reiderwriter · 2 days
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🧺 Any More 🧺
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.
A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡
Masterlist || Bingo Board
You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 
You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 
But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 
Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 
You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 
“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 
What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 
You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 
You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 
He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 
You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 
Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 
You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 
“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 
“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 
Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 
“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 
He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 
You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 
“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 
“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 
“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 
“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 
You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 
“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 
“Uncomfortable.” 
“Or at your breakfast bar?” 
“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 
He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 
In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 
Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 
Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 
As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 
Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 
The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 
The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 
When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 
“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 
“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 
“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 
“Spencer, its 2pm.” 
“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 
“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 
He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 
“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 
“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 
You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 
“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 
100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 
After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 
“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 
As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 
“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 
“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 
“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 
“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 
He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 
He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 
“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 
“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 
“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 
“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 
“Laundry?” 
“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 
He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 
“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 
“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 
He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 
“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 
“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 
“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 
Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 
You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 
It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 
The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 
You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 
“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 
You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 
“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 
“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 
“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 
“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 
“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 
You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 
The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 
“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.
“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 
“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 
“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 
“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 
“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 
You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 
“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 
“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 
He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 
When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 
“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 
“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 
“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 
“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 
You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 
“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 
“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 
“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 
Your voice cracked again. 
“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 
“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 
“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 
“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 
“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.
“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 
He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 
“And you deserve a break.” 
“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 
“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 
You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 
“You all had reasons, I-” 
“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 
For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 
So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 
But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 
His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 
“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 
When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 
“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 
A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 
“To me, you are perfect.”
His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 
“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 
“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 
His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 
“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 
His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.
His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 
“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 
“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 
“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 
“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.
“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 
“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 
Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.
The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 
“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 
He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 
You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 
You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 
You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.
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miley1442111 · 3 days
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(part 7) choices in hindsight- a.donaldson
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summary: eleven years later.
(dw there are more parts after this :))
pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader
warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, loneliness, etc.
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Eleven years later….
You sat beside the umpire, your opponent smashing her racket in frustration as tears fell down her face. You were tired. Every bone in your body ached, your muscles were tense, your skin felt too tight. 
Your mind was worse. Playing tennis since you were a little girl does that to someone. Being in the public eye does that to someone, being alone does that to someone.
“You fucking bitch!” She shouted. “You fucking bitch!”
You didn’t care about it, the match was done, and you’d won. As usual. 
You hated tennis. You hated your life. Your lonely, empty life. 
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“How about a challenger? To boost your motivation?” Your manager, Michael, offered. 
“I’ll do whatever,” you shrugged. 
Michael stopped in front of you, stopping you from walking. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m fine,” you plastered on a fake smile. “Just tired.”
“In what sense?” He asked. He’d always been able to see right through you. You rolled your eyes. 
“In the sense that I’m completely alone and I’m sick of knowing that I’m a winner while I feel like a failure!” You exploded. “Tashi and Art got married. Patrick isn’t anywhere near as good as he was. I have no friends. I have no family. I have nothing but a bunch of cold, metal trophies, and a team who don’t care if I want to play anymore. All they care about is my game. And I fucking hate tennis!” 
Michael stared at you, face hardening. “You really had to do that in front of everyone?” He asked. You looked around. Your team was around you, but so was your next opponent.
“I’m not exactly worried,” you snarled. 
Michael rolled his eyes. “Go win the match, then we’ll let you have some alcohol and you can drown your sorrows.”
“Fuck yourself!” you shouted as he walked away. 
“How can I do that when you’re constantly fucking me over anyways!” He shouted back. 
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Back on the court again. Another subpar player against you. 
HIT. You’re worthless. HIT. You’re awful. HIT. You’re nothing. HIT. You deserve to be lonely. HIT. You deserve to be alone. HIT. You deserve to feel worthless.
HIT. Be better. HIT. Be stronger. HIT. Be more. 
HIT. 
“We have a winner!” 
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“Come on!” Lily shouted from beside him, her eyes on the court as you won, yet again. She’d seen her mother do it so much she was turning it into a catch-phrase. 
“She’s pretty good, right?” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving you. He didn't want to let himself admit it, but god you looked good. The white tennis outfit you had on was practically making him weak in the knees, as well as the 'I don't give a shit' attitude you carried with you. You were simply leaning in your chair, a drink in hand as your opponent screamed to her manager about how unfair playing against you was.
I mean she wasn't wrong. You were the top female tennis player and you were practically unbeatable. You were incredible.
“She’s amazing!” Lily smiled. “When does she play again?”
“Tomorrow,” he answered. He had your schedule memorised. 
“Can I meet her?” 
Art shook his head. “She and mom have a complicated history.” Also, I’m still madly in love with her.
“How so?” Lily asked as he walked with her, hand in hand to the concessions stand. 
“Well, back in college mom and her didn’t get along because mom couldn’t beat her-” he started but he felt Tashi beside him. 
“You’re lying to Lily now?” She snarked. 
Art felt his skin go cold. “No. It’s true-”
“I beat her,” Tashi nodded. “Dad used to date Y/n as well, isn’t that right?”
Art nodded and Lily looked up at him.
“That’s weird,” she confessed. “Why did you break up?”
“I was in love with mom,” Art lied and kissed Tashi on the cheek, the entire display looking awkward and rehearsed. His regret and resentment grew everyday. He’d never regret having Lily, but he regretted everything he did to you, and letting you get away. 
“That’s gross!” She squealed, shielding her eyes from her parents kissing.
“Alright peanut, what do you want?” He asked, moving up in the line and getting ready to order. 
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HIT.  Train harder. HIT. Work harder. HIT. You deserve nothing. 
The ball hit into your side and you groaned out in pain. “Fuck!”
You let yourself rest on the ground, not even bothering to turn off the automatic ball-throwing machine. 
“Hi,” a familiar voice smiled at you. Your eyes opened to find Patrick Zweig over your head. 
“Hi,” you mumbled, getting up. 
“How are you?” he asked, following you as you began to hit the balls again. 
“Fine,” you grunted out. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” he smirked, watching your figure as you bent to hit a ball. “Very good.”
“Your dad give you a job yet?” 
Patrick’s fantasy was broken. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, not yet.”
“Too bad. You’d make a much better corporate asshole than the piece-of-shit tennis player you are.”
“Tread easy,” he chuckled, a touch of pathetic begging in his plea. You just rolled your eyes and continued on your exercise. 
“How about you go fuck yourself, Patrick?” Tashi scoffed from the stands, Art beside her. 
“How can I go back to that when she fucks me so well?” He joked. HIT. 
“Leave her alone Pat,” Art sighed. HIT. 
“Why are you defending her?” Tashi questioned, turning to Art. HIT. 
“She is right here in case you don’t see her,” Pat defended. HIT. 
“Pat we fucking know-” Art started, but it just ended up in Tashi talking over him to the point that Patrick started talking over both of them in the argument. 
HIT. HIT. HIT. 
“All three of you can fuck off!” you screamed. “I never want to see your stupid face again Patrick, Tashi you can stop flaunting that you got the love of my life, and Art, go be a dad or something! I don’t care anymore!” 
All three of them turned to you with various faces. Patrick was smirking, happy he’d finally pushed your buttons to the extreme. Tashi looked awkward and caught, maybe even guilty. 
But Art. Art looked at you like you’d hung the stars just for him, then tore it all down in front of him. His beautiful blue eyes filling with tears as he finally got to hear you admit that he was the love of your life, only eleven years too late. 
“I’m content with being alone, as shit as it is. I suggest you all move on from me now,” you sighed, grabbing your bag and walking off to find you manager. 
“See you at the challenger!” Patrick called after you. The ATP Challenger Tour. 
The same one from eleven years ago. 
Where everything fell apart. 
You got that familiar sinking feeling in your stomach.
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art donaldson masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
people who asked to be tagged :)
@fkaams
@emily-b
@yourmommycallsmemommy
@hrtsj1m
@januarycolor
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exhaslo · 1 day
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Over-Time Ch6
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5
Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
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"Slow and steady wins the race,"
You whispered repeatedly to yourself as you carried Miguel's coffee, snack and your smoothie. You knew well enough that if you rushed then something was going to spill. This was your first official week as Miguel's secretary without Lyla.
You had to be perfect!
It was nerve wracking. Especially with that small incident you had last week. Sure, Lyla reassured you that everything was fine, but it wasn't. You had started to dream about Miguel-your boss! You've heard of workplace crushes...
But Miguel was the CEO?
If your feelings were to ever come out, Miguel might see you as a gold digger. It frighten you. Miguel was kind, handsome and worked hard for his company. You would hate to see him give you a disgusted look if he found out you liked him.
"That's the new secretary. We might actually be able to get away with shit now that Lyla's gone."
"Shh, she might hear you."
"It's fine. She bumped into the CEO on day one and almost cried during the interview I heard. She's a pushover."
Biting your lower lip, you hurried into the elevator. You had just started and there were already rumors. You always were the easiest one to bully. Was this place really going to be any different than your last job?
Once you reached your floor, you couldn't stop thinking about the rumors. Everyone already thought of you as a crybaby and pushover. You knew they were going to intimidate you for favors now.
Taking deep breathes, you knocked before entering Miguel's office. You forced a smile as you placed his coffee and snack on his desk.
"Good morning, sir. You have your first meeting at 9am. Until then, you have received multiple proposals from new business partners who want to collaborate with Alchemax."
"Perfect score," Miguel smiled as he grabbed his coffee, "(Y/N), you don't have to be so tense. Relax."
"S-Sorry."
"Don't apologize. When we're alone, you can just be yourself." Miguel reassured you.
And just like that, all of your worries went away.
"Thank you. Um, I know I won't be of much help, but is there anything I can help you with?" You offered.
"Your company is more than enough,"
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Miguel had noticed the grim look on your face when you entered his office. He wanted to ask you what was wrong, but it might have been strange. He wasn't to that level with you yet. Miguel wanted to be more forward, but you still needed to adjust to the job.
Just having you by his side was enough for now.
The day went pretty well, Miguel had to make sure you knew that. Since it was your first day solo, Miguel wanted to keep reminding you of how well of a job you were doing.
"Hehe," You hid your smile behind your tablet.
Miguel was in awe. You were so cute. With all the bullshit in his life, Miguel had to wonder how someone like you just landed on his lap.
"Our last stop is just the labs, correct?" Miguel questioned. You pressed the elevator button, nodding,
"Yep. Just a usual check up on some of the projects. Some of our partners want an update by the end of the month so this would be a good start on reviews."
"Perfect."
Unable to resist, Miguel reached forward and patted your head. He loved the dazed look you gave him. Quickly moving his hand away as those dirty thoughts returned, Miguel cleared his throat. He had to behave himself.
Watching you enter the elevator first, Miguel had ever thought to press the emergency stop and fuck you then and there. How sweet would those moans of yours be? How good would your feel squeezing against his dick?
"Um, it was floor 18, first, right?" You asked, double checking.
"Hm?" Miguel followed you inside, glancing down at your tablet, "I forget how many floors are dedicated to labs. Yes, we can start there."
He HAD to stop thinking like this. Standing beside you, Miguel just inhaled deeply. There were many things he did as a CEO that he wasn't proud of. Treating you like a fuck doll was not going to be one of those things.
KABOOM
"Ah!"
Miguel flinched as the elevator shook. He quickly grabbed you as the two of you fell on the floor, the lights shutting off and the elevator freezing in place.
Holding your head against his chest, Miguel groaned as he slowly looked around. The power was off and it seemed like the two of you were stuck. Rubbing your back, Miguel resisted a groan as he got a good whiff of your perfume,
"(Y/N), are you alright?"
---------
Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you sobbed quietly. The explosion had spooked you to your core. The only thing that was comforting you was Miguel's embrace as he kept you safe. Honestly, you could stay like this forever.
"(Y/N), are you alright?" Miguel asked softly. You raised your head, sniffing softly,
"Y-Yea...What...What happened?"
"Not sure, let me make a quick call," Miguel said.
Right as you were about to leave his embrace, Miguel pulled you back in. You squeaked, glancing at him, but Miguel kept you firmly in place, his hand rubbing your back as you trembled.
"You're shaking," Miguel whispered as he was on the phone, "Yes, what happened?"
You could faintly hear the other person on the line. Apparently there was an explosion in one of the labs and it shut off the power.
"Tch, get it back on. I'm stuck in the elevator." Miguel hissed before hanging up, "Just relax for me, (Y/N), it's going to be okay."
"I-I know...I-I know....but...A-Are you sure it's okay....for me to be like this?" You stuttered against his chest.
You felt Miguel's chest rise as he scoffed.
"I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise." He said softly, "You're still so nervous around me..."
Miguel's tone was so gentle. His hand stroked your cheek, wiping away any tears you had. Did Miguel not know how he was making you feel? This just made you want him more.
"Sorry," You whispered, "It's...It's just weird...you know....You're the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world...I'm just a clumsy worker."
"You're more than just a clumsy worker," Miguel said with a chuckle, his grip tightening around your waist, "You don't give yourself enough credit, (Y/N)."
"Y-You know...it's embarrassing" You whispered, smiling softly, "To be complimented by someone as great as you. It makes me feel better,"
"I'm not that great," Miguel hummed lowly, focusing on your lips, "I'm still one of those greedy and scummy CEOs."
"Not to me,"
"Hn," Miguel tilted his head as he made eye contact with you, "You know, (Y/N). You're different than the other girls. I like that about you, but it also makes me want to make selfish demands."
"Like what?"
You weren't sure what came over you. The atmosphere this elevator was giving off was throwing your sense of judgement out the window. You and Miguel were so close to each other, enjoying each other's embrace.
Both of you unsure of when this elevator was going to turn back on. Honestly, you felt the tension. You only thought this moment happened in movies.
"If I say...you might hate me," Miguel sighed, his lips inches away from yours before pulling away, "I enjoy what we have."
"So do I," You rolled your lips inward as you thought, "I won't hate you, Miguel...I just...I just want to do the best I can...So make whatever selfish request you have."
"Hm, don't regret it then."
You gasped softly as Miguel swapped places and pinned you against the elevator wall. His body hovering over yours. You could feel your heart racing as his hands stroked your cheeks, drawing you closer to him.
The look in his eyes were lustful. As if he was already swallowing you whole before even doing anything. Your body was starting to grow hot from just the eye contact.
Right as you thought he was about to kiss you, the elevator turned on. Miguel cussed lowly, helping you up,
"Guess this is fate telling me to wait," He said with a hurt chuckle. You furrowed your brows and squeezed his hand,
"J-Just....let me know...when...." You whispered shyly.
You knew damn well what was going to happen. Miguel was going to kiss you and you were totally ready for it.
Feeling Miguel squeeze your hand back in response, you glanced towards your boss. He gave you a smile before letting go of your hand as the doors open to the floor you needed to be on.
"Until then, business as usual." Miguel hummed. You followed behind him, smiling softly,
"Mhm,"
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Next Chapter
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munariplans · 3 days
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hey! Could you make reader and Natasha as parents? reader being that type of mother (or another gender I don't know) who takes her children to all their games and teaches them how to play tennis and Natasha being the worried mother who is afraid of their children getting hurt
one-shot of forty, love
synopsis: a combination of the different requests above, and below, of natasha and R as parents :) lmk if you guys are interested in seeing more of these two!
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natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader
word count: 3.5k words
warning: smut below, skip if you're under 18 or uncomfortable reading!
masterlist
“almost hit it, a little closer!” 
thwock. 
“there we go! you can do it, let’s do a last forehand, sweetheart.”
thwock. 
“another!” this time, the voice came from the tiny girl far across the court, shouting out to you as you kept the last of the tennis balls. you shouted back that it was nearly time for dinner, and that you didn’t want to make her mother wait, but she was insistent, just like her mother was. 
you relented, sighing as you prepared the serve, and hit. but this time, the hit was just a slightly bit ill-timed, off the pace of the usual strength you would serve to a kid her size. but she was already running, and before you could call out that it was going to be too far for her to hit, she had dived, trying to hit the ball desperately with her racket. unfortunately, she lost her balance, and the next thing you remembered was your own feet carrying you as fast as they could to the other side of the court, rushing to the aid of the crying child. 
your daughter instinctively reached out for your arms as you bent down to pick her up, face already red from her tears. she was in as much shock as you were, as you looked down towards her scraped knee, the abrasion causing little trickles of blood to run across the broken skin. natasha’s going to kill me, you thought, as you began rocking the little girl and apologising profusely. 
“i’m sorry, so sorry, my love, mummy’s serve was too far,” you consoled her, her fingers gripping the ends of your shirt as tightly as she could. 
you let her calm down for a bit, before taking another look at the injury. “is it bad…mummy?”
you looked back up at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “nothing a band-aid and a kiss can’t fix.”
with her lips still trembling, you brought a bottle of water to wash off any debris from the abrasion, and began patching the wound up. then, right after, your lips landed on the band-aid, and said, “there, boo boo is gone. my brave girl.”
her mood considerably lifted when you offered her a piggyback ride all the way home, and when the both of you walked past an ice-cream shop, you offered her a sweet treat in exchange for her not mentioning a word to natasha. 
“you’re both late for dinner,” a voice called out from the kitchen as you entered the house, the smells from dinner in the oven already enticing you further and further in. 
you looked towards your daughter nervously, her mouth still a little sticky with leftover chocolate, but her smile back towards you indicated that she was intending to keep her promise. but you didn’t even get a chance to say another word to her, for in the next moment, natasha had rounded the corner, carrying a deep dish of lasagna in thick oven mitts. she glanced towards the both of you, and beyond glancing at the sweat that glistened on your daughter’s forehead, her keen sense of observation from her years as a reporter instinctively caught the anomaly in the form of the band-aid. 
the girl happily munched on with dinner, as she watched in curiosity, and slight amusement, natasha angrily pulling you away to the kitchen again. 
“what did we just talk about yesterday? what did i just tell you?” 
you pursed your lips, head hung low as you kicked the floor ashamedly. “that i was training her…a little bit tough.”
“too tough!” she exclaimed, hands on her hips this time. she was a sight to behold, nine months pregnant with your second baby, face scrunched in annoyance, but still looking absolutely glowing. it was unfair just how beautiful she was, even standing a head shorter than you were and stance ready to bite off your head. “and look what’s happened! she injured herself!”
on the other hand, natasha was fighting off the urge to forgive you right away, as you pouted and reached out for her hands, saying, “sorry. i promise it won’t happen again. please don’t be angry, please…?”
you watched her roll her eyes, before sighing. “you are such a child.”
“sorry,” you said in a cuter tone. you were playing to her weaknesses.
“let’s just eat dinner. i’m starving. baby is too.” you smiled, knowing you won when natasha allowed you to kiss her in appreciation for her forgiveness.
afterwards, when natasha still had worry lines pertinent on her forehead as she inspected the scrape on your daughter’s knee while the three of you watched a movie, you caught yourself being webbed into a danger zone again. you knew better than to say it’s not that bad to a very hormonal, very pregnant woman who was fighting the urge to scream i told you so at you. 
so when your wife got up for a toilet break later on, and was making her way back, she caught you on your knees in front of the girl, speaking lowly to her. “–you have to tell her, okay? you have to tell mama that mummy is very sorry, and to not be angry at her. tell mama that if she stays angry at mummy, mummy will be very sad.”
that alone was enough for natasha to finally forgive you, almost scoffing with how cute she found the scene in front of her was. 
natasha was waiting outside when you shut your daughter’s room, safely tucked into bed, injury forgotten as she hugged her teddy to sleep. you raised your eyebrows in question. usually she would have already been in bed, the strain on her back too much to remain sitting and standing for long. however, this time, even though her features looked exhausted, she came to you. 
you instantly knew what was bothering her when her arms seeked out for yours, just like her daughter’s did. you enveloped her in an embrace, when she muttered, “i’m in so much pain right now.”
nearing the end of her third trimester, you knew this second pregnancy was taking a heavier toll on her than your first one had. most nights you felt terrible that you couldn't help to shoulder even an ounce of the physical pain she was enduring by herself. but you could help her, at least.
“turn around,” you guided her to have her back towards you, and natasha knew what was coming. still, when your hands found the bump underneath her, and gently lifted it to rest the weight on you instead, it didn’t stop the cry of relief from escaping her lips. her body instinctively rested against yours as well, feet thanking the heavens for the lightness she was suddenly experiencing. 
“i love you, i love you so much,” she whimpered, and you kissed her neck tenderly as you muttered that it was the least you could do. 
you held on as the both of you kept each other in that intimate embrace, when natasha muttered, “i had such a bad day today too, and with the baby being like this, i’m sorry i got annoyed at you for nora’s scrape.”
“it’s alright, it was my fault,” you replied, “served too hard. tell me about your day, my love.”
“i–” natasha suddenly felt tears springing to her eyes, hearing the soothing tone of your voice. but she pressed on, “–jenny, from the crime division, she yelled at me today. said i gave her the wrong tip-off, led her down the wrong path and losing the lead. in front of everyone in the department. and you know what’s the worst part?”
you kept silent, feeling small droplets of tears on your skin already, “...i just stood there, and took it. stood there…and i cried. like i was a new hire, an intern, for fuck’s sake. i let her step all over me like that.”
she felt your lips on her cheek this time, kissing away the angry and frustrated streaks down her face. “natasha, it’s normal to feel like this. she was being a bitch, and very unprofessional.”
“still! i…i…stupid hormones,” she cried, clearly more vexed with herself than anything else. 
but you were there to reassure her that she didn’t deserve to berate her own body for having heightened emotions. “her outburst reflects more on her as a person than it does on you. you did nothing wrong, everyone makes mistakes, and it wasn’t your fault she lost the lead. your feelings are valid, and there is nothing wrong with crying, baby. with or without the hormones, you shouldn’t be embarrassed for reacting in that way, and i’m sure your colleagues all know that she’s unreasonable for lashing out at you like that.”
natasha didn’t look convinced, pent-up emotions still simmering in her chest, and you knew it. she believed you, but not so much of herself. so you kissed her again, to gain her attention, and coaxed her to a hot bath that the two of you would share, knowing that it would alleviate both her physical and mental ailments.
– 
the hot water was calming, almost liberating, to almost every fibre of her body. with the water taking the weight off the shoulders, she found it easier to relax against you, the skin to skin contact soothing her even more. she was lucky that she still had you, even after the day she had, she thought.
“better?” your smile made her mirror one herself, nodding as you began massaging shampoo into her wet hair. 
“better.”
with your fingers in her hair, her body almost weightless in the water, natasha could finally let her guard down. she could finally tell you, something that you knew had been bothering her for a while. 
“i feel like this one is going to be bigger than nora was,” she quietly said. 
“i think so too.”
she sighed when your hands came to massage her shoulders. “...what if my body doesn’t return…to my usual size…after this? what if i can’t lose the weight?”
the massage stopped briefly, you sighing behind her. “you know it won’t matter to me. as long as you and the baby are healthy.”
“i know, i know,” you had told her, even in her first pregnancy, that you didn’t care if her body changed, if her looks changed, after the pregnancy. it was only understandable, you thought, for all that she was doing for you both by carrying the child, “but i just–i feel–i won’t be attractive to you anymore, after all this. i’ll just be a mom, and nothing more. what if the station ousts me, because i can’t chase around stories at their beck and call anymore? because i have to be home early most nights, to pick up the kids, because i can’t work so many weekends in a row, because i have to spend time with my family?”
“natasha,” you quelled her worries, “first, you shouldn’t feel guilty for making more time for your family, for being a mom. besides, we can always afford to hire help, and if i don’t have matches, i’ll be there to attend to the kids. you’re amazing, you’ve always been amazing, the station can’t kick you out just because you decided to have a family. if they do…you know i’ll have a strongly-worded email from my team sent to them in the next second. and if you do decide to take a little time off to spend more time with the kids, i’ll support you, i’ll support us, no matter what. whatever you want, i’ll be there to support your decisions, i’ll be there to back you up through it all.”
“and second…” slowly, natasha felt the hands that were on her shoulders travel lower and lower, “...only a madman would ever think that you are any less attractive, any less sexy, with the beautiful body you are graced with from pregnancy. in fact, i think i find you even more sexy with how you looked after giving birth to nora, and if possible, even sexier than that now that you’re pregnant again.” 
your fingers had entered the soft, spongy walls that they had memorised their way around, working expertly at natasha’s gasp of the intrusion. your other hand on her breasts, natasha let out a soft whimper when they began working miraculously together, her brain already turning to mush. “i must be insane to ever have the thought of you being unattractive cross my mind. when that happens, shoot me.”
another finger entered her, your mouth travelling from her neck, to the valley of her breasts, pressing open-mouthed kisses until she felt them latch on to her nipples, making eye contact with her as you let out a sly smirk, sucking. natasha broke eye contact when another thought crossed her head, “you’re crazy. so many years together, then so many years apart, don’t tell me–don’t tell me–you’ve never found anyone else that caught your eye. a player, a reporter, the celebrities that come to your matches…i’ve seen them–trying to get your attention–your number. i’ve seen–”
natasha was cut off with a yelp as you moved to the other breast, biting down slightly. “–the way they look at you. and it’s hard to get angry, when i know i would do the same, because you’re so…hot.”
you finally let go, letting up a small chuckle as your fingers quickened their pace. “natty, natty, natty.”
“what’s so funn–”
another gasp escaped her throat as you found her g-spot, where she needed you most. “–is it so hard to believe that you’re the only one i want, the only one i’ve ever wanted? nobody else comes close, you are all my eyes can see.”
she was writhing and moaning in your hold now, fuelling the ego that had been steadily growing as you started worshipping your wife. with the bathwater sloshing and her hands gripping the edge of the bathtub, you whispered, “careful. we don’t want to wake the baby, do we? let mama have her fun for a bit.”
“oh my god.” at the final roll of her hips, “i’m gonna cum.”
“then let go, sweetheart.”
the moan natasha let out sounded almost otherworldly, earth-shatteringly delicious to your ears, as you felt her squeeze in and crumble around you, trapping your fingers in her while she came undone, head in the space between your neck and your shoulder, eyes shut in pleasure. you met her lips with yours, assuring her, “i love you, i love you, i love you.”
it was almost unfair how ethereal she looked, post-orgasm and looking up with you with her eyes glazed. you could only meet her with the kisses she so badly craves after nights like these, each time marvelling about how pretty your wife looked in your arms. 
“you don’t have to come for the match tomorrow if your back still hurts, baby,” you reassured her later on, after carrying her out of the tub and helping her dress, as natasha slowly dozed to sleep with how tired she was, and how comfortable she felt. 
but your words seemed to stir her awake. “no, it’s okay. i’ll come. i want to come.”
your smile to her was almost patronising, to which she scoffed at and held your hand to drag you into bed. “i’m serious. i’ll be there.”
“it’s only a semifinal.”
“still important to me.”
“tomorrow’s your only day off this week. don’t you want to spend it resting?”
“i want to spend it supporting you.”
“and if i don’t win?”
“still important to me. all the more important to me. means you won’t be away for the finals in france, means you can be with me for a few more weeks until your next tournament.”
at your sigh of relief, and contentment, natasha let the ends of her lips curl upon feeling you kiss her cheeks lovingly. “i don’t deserve you. i’ll make sure you’re comfortable tomorrow. it’s going to be a long game.”
sleepily, she replied, “you better.”
it was your daughter that won your attention first, as you approached the stands after the semifinals win to thank the crowd. her little hands reaching for your embrace from the first row, natasha watched as your eyes positively beamed as she felt you take over her hold from her. the crowd roared even louder, if possible, seeing nora balanced on your hips and celebrating your win with you. it was a scene to behold, and one that natasha knew would be etched in her mind for a lifetime. 
this was all she ever wanted. this was all she could ever ask for. even as you invited her down to the court to take pictures with your family, even as the photographer almost blinded her with the flash as you wrapped your arms around her and your daughter.
thumbing over the printed photograph of the match earlier, safe in your arms in bed again, natasha couldn’t help but realise it; you really did only have eyes for her. your team and coach were in the frame along with the family, and in the candid shot that had become natasha’s favourite, your eyes were only on hers, gazing at her lovingly as she kissed your daughter’s cheek in the shot.
said daughter was beside her in that moment, the skies outside thundering loudly and her crawling into bed between the both of you just minutes before. her heart pooled into a puddle when she woke up to you comforting her and wiping away her tears. she looked almost exactly like natasha, so alike that she felt she was given a second chance with her life in nora. her chance to love you right. 
she only felt you again a few hours later, returning from bringing nora back to her room after she decided she wasn’t scared anymore, and accidentally falling asleep holding her hand in her own room. you slipped into bed with her, and reached for her touch again. 
your eyes were closed, but you weren’t asleep, sleepily rubbing circles on natasha’s back. you had earlier given her a massage and spoiled her rotten, even though you had a match earlier in the day, even though she knew you must have been more than exhausted.
“baby,” she called out, readjusting her position, “i know you said we could have as many kids as i am willing to push out of me.”
“mm, of course. we could even have an army if you wanted to.”
“well, if you ever catch me saying that i want one more after birthing this one, please slap me.”
there was a mirthless chuckle from your end, when suddenly, your hands were caught in a death grip, natasha nearly crushing your fingers. shooting up out of bed, you screamed, “ouch! natasha, why–”
then you saw it. but even if you hadn’t seen it in the dark of the night, you definitely felt it; the rush of wetness that had gushed onto the bed. natasha had her eyes shut in pain, still, allowing the contraction to pass, and you knew they were definitely not false alarms this time. her water had broke. 
“okay, okay,” you had been through this once before, but the panic, and anxiety, settled in all the same. “okay, you stay right here, i’m getting the hospital bag, then i’ll call the hospital, and then i’m calling steve to come over to pick up nora, just…wait here.”
“can’t–really–go–anywhere,” natasha gritted her teeth. she sounded murderous. 
you scooped her up just minutes later, settling into your arms as you carried her bridal style, just like you had the night of your wedding, and so many nights after. only this time, natasha was struggling to control her breathing, trying not to suffocate you with how hard she was holding onto you. she couldn’t wait to get the baby out and get it over and done with already. 
“aaargh!” she screamed as you carried her through the hospital doors, the team already prepared to wheel her in to prep her. still, she refused to let go of your hand, insisting on you staying by her side even as she changed into her hospital gown, and especially as she faced contraction after contraction. 
you were almost worried she was going to destroy your playing hand, but thought it was worth it; ending your career to ensure she safely gave birth. it was a fair tradeoff. you even joked, “guess i’m not going to france for the final after all.”
if natasha wasn’t in so much pain she would have strangled you. you were supposed to catch a flight the next day. “if you even dare step out of this room before i pop this baby out, i am divorcing you, you hear me?”
the doctors struggled to hide their amused grins, as you quickly reached for your phone to call your manager to cancel the flight and the match upon hearing her words.
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shoyudon · 1 day
Text
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 .ᐟ
you getting your period during a date
starring. gojo satoru, choso kamo, nanami kento x fem! reader
heads up. cursing, period.
note. I'M BACKKK, i missed my blue eyed king (let's pretend nothing happened, everyone's okay, we're all hahas and heehees) and i missed u all too. anw, hru all?
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──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
"baby, i think i got my period," you whisper at him, squirming uncomfortably in your seat across from him — gojo stopped his movements and stares at you, "can you check if it stained . . ?"
thank goodness gojo had booked a secluded seat by the corner of the restaurant, you slowly stood up and looked down, "oh, fuck. it stained —" a part of you was thankful that the seat wasn't made of fabric, it was a smooth wooden seat.
he stood up and sat you back down, taking off his jacket to lay it over your lap, "wait here, yeah?" he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he bolted out of the restaurant to god knows where. it took him less than five minutes to come back with a pink colored pouch.
gojo grabbed your hand, gently tugging you up to stand as he tied the sleeves of his jacket around you to hide away the stain, "there are a few things you can use in there, baby, come on," and there he goes, guiding you down to the washroom of the restaurant; even waiting for you to disappear behind the door of the girl's washroom.
you unzipped the pouch slowly, taking out the contents: small plastic bag, tampons, winged pads, pantyliners, hell even a spare underpants.
chuckling, you began changing and walked out of the washroom only to see gojo leaning by the door, "oh, hi baby," he greets cheerfully, grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers together, "anything else you need? your tummy hurting already?"
shaking your head, he brings you both back to your seat, which was thankfully still scattered with your own food, "thank you, 'toru. i don't know what i'd do without you."
gojo chuckles softly, raising your fingers to his lips, "'ts my job, baby. i love you."
──────〃★ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
"period?"
you nodded as choso's lips parted in confusion — you didn't blame him at all though. a squeak escaped his throat, and you laugh out nervously, "can i help you with it? what should i do? is it painful? should i carry you to the bathroom?"
choso went on and on with his questions, panic glimmering all over his face, "baby, it stained," he whispers, standing behind you. cursing softly, you try to hide the stain with your hands, as much as you wanted to ask choso to help you to cover it up, you noticed how he was only using a white colored hoodie with no other shirt inside it.
but choso, honestly could care less — he took of his hoodie, exposing his toned body, "here, baby," he ties the hoodie around your waist to cover your stain.
"cho, your hoodie's white—"
"it's okay, baby," he tells you, his eyes completely on you. paying no mind to the people staring at him as they pass by, "we can wash it off, you're much more important right now."
──────〃★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
nanami's always come in prepared, he knows your cycle more than you do — honestly, is that even surprising? he's always kept a few tampons and pads inside the inner pocket of his suit, since you know; cycles aren't really the same every month, either behind or it jumps forward a few days.
"i think i got my period . . ." you squeezed his hand, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand.
"hm?" he looks down, "let's find a bathroom," nanami tells you, tugging you forwards towards the public restroom — still as calm as cucumber.
"do you bring anything to use?" nanami questions softly, and you shook your head in panic. your period was supposed to be at least in four days, not now.
as you both arrive in a public restroom, nanami rummaged through the inner pocket of his suit, slipping a pad into your hand in discreet, "here you go, love. your period's jumped forwards a few days," he murmurs, raking his finger through your hair.
looking up at him, you sigh out in relief, "thank you, ken. you're a life saver . . ."
nanami chuckles, leaning down to kiss your lips, "isn't it my job to take care of you?" he planted a second kiss to your lips, "i love you."
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© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !
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moonstruckme · 19 hours
Note
if your not taking requests feel free to ignore me
could u do camp counselor james! where he and reader reunite next summer at the start of a new camp session?
I am lovely, don't worry! Thank you for requesting :)
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 884 words
It’s early May, and the sun is still pleasant. After last year, you know to relish the first few cool nights in the cabin, before the summer heat sets in and you become dependent on tiny handheld fans and those popsicles from the canteen. For now you’re enjoying it, the wooden boards of the dock warm under your thighs and your head tilted up to the sun as your toes kiss the cool water. 
The air smells like pine and fresh water. In a few days, all you’ll be able to hear are kids screaming exuberantly, splashing around in the water and small feet pounding on the dirt, but now it’s just the sloshing of the waves against the shore, the steady thunk of the canoe someone’s already gotten out hitting the dock. It’s peaceful. Meditative. And maybe it’s because you’re so focussed on that that you don’t hear James’ car pull into the gravel parking lot, or his friends bickering about who has to carry what inside, or really much of anything until there’s a set of footsteps approaching from behind you, and you turn around. 
“James!” You’re every inch the girlfriend in a movie, embarrassingly so, but you’re too excited to second-guess yourself as you get your feet under you and run to meet him. 
“Hey,” James laughs, stopping a second before you do to brace for impact. He grabs you under your legs and hoists them up around his waist, grinning hugely as he pecks you on the lips. “Hey, careful, no bare feet on the grass, remember?” 
You roll your eyes. You’re not supposed to let the kids run around without their shoes in case there’s some broken glass or something, but there never is. “You just wanted to pick me up,” you say. 
James’ smile widens. “Yeah, you got me.” 
You wrap your arms around his neck as he crushes you to his front, both of you gripping the other like you’re expecting to be torn apart. He can’t have been here more than half an hour, but James already smells like camp, sunscreen and something woodsy mingling with the smell of his shampoo. 
“I missed you,” you admit, turning your lips into the side of his head. 
James hugs you impossibly tighter. “I’m so glad you get it, angel. I was telling Sirius about how much I missed you on the way here, and he was being very unsympathetic about it. Deeply coldhearted, really—” 
“Fuck off,” says Sirius, and you look over James’ shoulder to see him and Remus approaching. “You saw each other last weekend!” 
“God, don’t remind me!” James lets you go just enough to smush his lips to yours. “Far too long. Cruel, unusual treatment.” 
Sirius humphs. “And yet you were apart from us for three months last summer, and I didn’t hear nearly so much of bereavement.” 
You smile and pat your boyfriend’s shoulder, a silent request for him to put you down. 
“Trust me,” you say, going over to hug Sirius, “the rest of us did. He was waxing poetic about you all summer. I think the kids were a bit worried.” 
“Yes, well.” Sirius cracks, grinning as he kisses you on the cheek. “As he should.” 
“Hi, lovely.” Remus looks thoroughly worn out from the long drive—or more likely, from his friends’ bickering the whole way—but he scrubs a fond hand up and down your back as you squeeze him around the middle. 
“I can’t believe you guys are here,” you say, beaming as you peel away from him. James immediately pulls you back against his front, his arms twined loosely around your waist. 
“We couldn’t very well leave him to wax poetic all summer again.” Remus smiles, and Sirius nods fervently. 
“You should have seen him, babe,” he says. “He was having a proper crisis over it. Now I’ve got to spend my whole summer doing charity work just to keep him from being torn apart.” 
“They do pay us,” James reminds him. 
Sirius waves him off. “For those wages? It’s charity work.” 
You lean your head back on James’ shoulder, sinking into his hold. You do have some inkling of the crisis Sirius is talking about; when your boss at camp had called him a couple of months ago and he’d been faced with either not seeing you for the three months you’d be here or going with you and not seeing his friends like he did last year, he’d put her off for weeks before deciding. In the end, Remus hadn’t been difficult at all to convince. He’s always wanted to work with kids, but James had to pitch the idea of being an art instructor to Sirius relentlessly before he’d finally agreed. 
You loved getting to know James last summer, and getting to see him in his element when you went to visit him on weekends throughout the year, but you suspect that now, with all his favorite people in one place for the entire summer, you’ll get to witness the happiest version of him you’ve seen yet. 
“The kids don’t get here until Thursday,” you say. “Want to see if we can have a bonfire tonight?” 
James chuckles. He leans over your shoulder to kiss your cheek, his smile unmissable against your skin. “Those are always fun.” 
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shysuccubusstuff · 2 days
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dragon! jiyan
Content: Established relationship, rut, half-dragon, non-human anatomy (dragon's you know...) + unrealistic, breeding kink, overstimulation, female reader.
Note: I know he's like... kind of a dragon?? So yeah. As always, non proof-reader. Wish I could write for longer cause I love when there are lots of positions and stuff but my brain gets dry :(
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You had already noticed something these last weeks Jiyan had been acting weird, always dodging you, somehow losing him even when he was there just a few seconds ago. At first this whole situation made you chuckle a little, looking just a child's game, but as he started to avoid you even despite you both lived together, you decided to put an end to this dumb game, quickly rushing to him and trapping him between your body and the wall. His face was already a bit flushed, eyes avoiding your gaze as he tried to move you without putting too much of his force, before he was able to say anything you complained: "What's going on? You've been avoiding me for several weeks!" Jiyan's face flushed, looking a bit sorry about it, despite that, he kept trying to squirm from your little prison, you decided to close your distance even more, causing him to get even closer to the wall.
"Could you stop squirming and just tell me what's wrong? Are you mad?" he quickly denied it, still trying to run away nevertheless. His face was getting far too red, hands shaking from God knows why. Finally, his mouth opened, finally breathing, your sweet smell filling his lungs, his eyes suddenly turning a bit more like those of a dragon.
"I'm sorry... I've been trying so hard to avoid you because I'm close to my... uhm special time, I get a bit...agressive during it and I really don't want to hurt you, dear." Your laugh almost escaped, was he that scared about hurting you? You smiled, quickly stealing a kiss from him, you thought it was because of something you had done, that was a relief. You got away, finally feeling happy. Just as you were about to get back to your routine, his hands gripped your wrist, quickly pushing towards him and switching positions with him.
"Hey, I just warned you, are you trying to push my buttons?" His expression had darkened, eyes blurry and mouth half-open, his breath a bit shaky. You tried to explain it to him that it was simply because you finally knew the reason why he was avoiding you, but it was useless, as he started to move his hands through your body, kissing your neck while whispering to your ear: "Do you want me to make you my mate that bad? Get you all nice and full... you would look so so pretty like that... Make you my little housewife, waiting for me all pretty... Oh I would love that..." When did he learn to say all those filthy things? Jiyan had never been that bold, even despite you had been together for quite some time now. You were too stunned to even realize how he had took you, carrying you swiftly and laying you on the bed. He took off his shirt, throwing it around and soon returning to being on top of you. "You look so pretty baby, so so pretty, all flushed and ready for me, right?" His eyes were dangerous, his hands kept playing with your nipples over the clothes, still not getting rid of any of your clothes. He kept teasing you, caressing your soft tits over the shirt while "accidentally" brushing over your clothed cunt, smiling as he saw your face flushed.
"I guess I won't be needing those damn neutralizers anymore." Without giving you time to think, he quickly got rid of some kind of choker he had been wearing for the last few weeks, a strong smell of medicinal herbs spreading all through the room, making your brain a bit fuzzy. He wasted no time, kissing your pretty lips while he got rid of your clothes, trying as hard as possible to not rip them apart. "I'm sorry baby, I'm at my limit, but my rut will help you to get ready for taking me without pain." By the time he ended saying that, his dick was already out, but something was different, and as he moved closer you finally realized it. There was not one but two, both completely erected and with their tip red, prominent veins over them. Just as you were about to complain, his voice, now much deeper than usual stopped you "Don't worry, I won't give both to you, we should go slowly, I don't want to break you." Before getting on top of you, he lifted you, carefully laying you with your tummy down, one pillow supporting your lower back. Just as soon as he got you as he wanted, his frame towered over you, his hot breath hitting your ear.
"Gonna enter baby, make sure to be ready." He wrapped his hands over your hands, his calloused hands letting you know he was there. You started to feel him entering, the stretching making you squirm a little, moans leaving your lips while your hands gripped the sheets.
It took a few minutes before he finally got his whole thing inside you, his tip almost hitting your cervix, he stopped there for a moment, peppering kisses all over your back while his hands were close to ripping the sheets. "You feel so good baby, I'm gonna start to move yeah?" As soon as he saw your nodding, he started to move painfully slow, making you feel as if you were about to pass out. Finally, after a few minutes you had already gotten used to the size, your belly bulging each time he moved a bit too fast, eyes rolling to your skull as he kept pushing you against the mattress almost making you cum at the moment. As he kept breaking you, his patience was wearing thin, suddenly lifting you from the bed and turning you to face him.
"I... I just missed seeing your face, plus I can't kiss your pretty lips." As he babbled his reasons, he kept rutting against you, making your brain melt at the spot, his lips kissing yours as his hands wrapped against yours, making you unable to move. As he kissed you, one of his hands drifted down your body, starting to rub your clit with his rough fingertips and making you cry out his name. No matter how much you plead and begged him to slow down he kept doing it, playing with your pretty pussy while he was stuffing you full.
"Baby, I'm gonna cum inside you, gonna get you full of my seed, I'll make you my pretty wife, get you everything you want, yeah? Gonna be such a good husband for you baby." Your nails digging on his skin as you came undone, saliva dripping down your lips and your pretty cunt dripping with his cum. He smiled at the sight, your pretty face was completely ruined, lips shiny from his own saliva, and his seed seeping out of your insides. He took care of your body, thoroughly cleaning both of your bodies and then drying them, getting both of you to the sofa and letting you sleep over his chest.
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adxele · 3 days
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BROS THE TYPE OF GUY TO! ...but featuring reo mikage!
cw: f!reader, reo and yn in their 20s, a lil bit suggestive but no nsfw activities, no angst mentioned, only fluff, unedited.
an: i love this little purple guy
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bros the type of guy to steal your perfumes so that he could spray them on his clothes when he flies to another country for his job😭
bros the type of guy to always get giddy when he sees you wearing something he bought for you.
bros the type of guy to be a PDA bf. hand holding, kissing your temple, leaning his head on yours, openly flirting, carrying you in bridal style and etc. but he crosses a line in making out in public.
bros the type of guy to fiddle with your hands. everyday, at random moments he always does that.
bros the type of guy to know whenever your period is coming.
bros the type of guy to get you bouquet of different flowers every month for no reason at all.
bros the type of guy to constantly crave for your attention. (he has abandonment issues, pls reassure him that you won't leave him.)
bros the type of guy to always be clingy with you in the morning to the point that he skipped many practices.
bros the type of guy to let everyone know that you're his. matching necklaces, rings, bracelets with your names on the pearls and hickeys. (and he isn't ashamed of how many marks he left on you.)
bros the type of guy to slowly dance with you in the morning while you're making breakfast. this may be cliché but it's reo after all so it's fine.
bros the type of guy to smile like a lovesick loser when he sees you wearing jersey with his name on your back. (makes him want to kiss you all over your face)
bros the type of guy to get a cute aggression when he's with you. he can't resist himself because of how cute you are!
bros the type of guy to introduce you to his friends! the first person he introduced you to was nagi obviously.
"Hey Nagi! This is Y/N! My girlfriend."
You friendly smiled with small wave, "Hi Nagi! Hope we will get along!"
Nagi looked up from his phone and eyed you up and down. Before Reo was about to ask what's up with the silent side-eye, he said, "Hi, Y/N. You look like a person who plays games."
"Uh.. I do!"
"Oh, that's cool, do you play genshin then?"
"Yeah!"
"Hmm, we can play together if you want. Just tell me your UID."
And Reo was glad that you quickly became friends with Nagi that day.
bros the type of guy to be a little spoon because he likes to be held! and your scent is just too comforting.
bros the type of guy to spoil you too much. honestly his parents shouldn't allow him having that much money atp.
"Reo I don't need it! I swear!"
"Uh uh! I saw your eyes linger on that bracelet 2 seconds longer than usual!"
"Oh my god!"
bros the type of guy to put your prettiest selfie as his profile picture on instagram. and put matching bios with you.
bros the type of guy to be head over heels for you.
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© ADXELE 2024. do not repost, copy, steal or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
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lucysarah-c · 1 day
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Do you think that Canon Levi (While he is in the scouts, not post-war) would want a serious relationship or even a family? I love reading fanfictions about him falling in love with someone who is also on the scouts and even having a wife or kids, but he canonically is not a huge fan of marriages and Idk, maybe he doesn't like the idea of putting children in such a dangerous world, you know what I mean? What's your opinion? 
Hi, sweetheart! How are you? Ah, first of all, thank you for stopping by my inbox and asking for my opinion. I always get a little giggly when people ask for my thoughts on anything haha. I promise to do my best to reply to everything to the best of my abilities!
I agree with you to a certain degree, especially since you mentioned not "post-war Levi." I think post-war Levi is a completely different story, you know? This man sat down with two kids to tell them about his childhood and mother. Let's remember that Hange didn't even know about Kenny's existence during the Uprising Arc, which leads me to think that Levi didn't speak to anyone about his past before. Now he does? I mean, yes, it's a literary device—using characters completely alien to the idea to present a first-person POV of the character telling their past. I've used it myself in my main fic. But let's say that's not the case, and Levi is opening up like never before. He seems to be redoing his life and living happily after the war. I wouldn't be surprised if he decides to pursue a partner and kids for himself (if he wants, as kids and romantic relationships aren't necessary for happiness).
But Canon Scout Levi? Let me tell you, first of all, I don't think Levi really "believes" in marriage per se. I think he would treat his girlfriend as if she were his wife; he doesn't think of marriage much beyond "a tradition." Now, I do see him getting married if it would enhance the life or rights of his girlfriend. What do I mean by this? Let's say there's "social judgment" if his girlfriend is publicly in a relationship with him and "being with a man outside of wedlock" causes her social scrutiny—he may marry her. He knows firsthand how women are judged based on their "status" by his mother, so if he can step up and do the right thing, he will. For example, if he were to die and his partner couldn't land jobs because people judge that she's unmarried at her age, he would marry her. Or if she could get a pension from being married to a soldier, and every coin counts, Levi wouldn't mind it. That's what I personally think. Levi knows he won't be the one getting the sour end from not making it official, so he sees it as beneficial to make it legally official.
Then about kids, I don't see Levi "seeking" kids while he's in the Scouts. It's rather clear that Levi likes kids across the story, but he probably wants to give his kids the childhood he didn't have. And yeah, "kids only need someone who loves them, etc.," but the truth is kids need time, dedication, and MONEY. Three things that Scout Levi doesn't have lmao. So I don't see him canonically "seeking to become a dad." If there's contraception in Paradis, he's for sure using it. If there isn't, or accidents happen, and his girlfriend ends up pregnant, he would probably state that it's not the best timing for kids (especially if she's a Scout, as I doubt a woman would be allowed to be a soldier and also raise a kid. She would lose her job and stay behind to be a mother, which was usually the case back in the day). But if she decides to carry on, Levi, being an adult doing adult stuff, will take responsibility and be the best father he can given the circumstances.
Finally, about relationships… I'm a firm believer that you don't truly choose to fall in love or not haha. Like when it happens, it happens, like the cat distribution system lol. Once it knocks at your door, it's your time. Once again, I don't picture Levi going out of his way "searching" for romance. But if he slowly gets to know someone and likes them, and that person likes him back, then well… I don't know. Now that I'm rereading the manga, I'm more sure about this. Levi hardly seems "unapproachable," like "I'm so hurt, I don't want to let anyone in." On the contrary, you see he has good relationships with almost all the Scouts, even telling Nifa about Kenny out of nowhere. He's not one to fall easily, but if it happens, it happens.
I hope this was a good enough answer <3 Thank you so much for your ask.
Have a lovely day!
Stay safe!
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genericpuff · 3 days
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(You can delete this ask if it makes you uncomfortable) Do you think I should give up on my dream of being a webcomic artist? It's been what I'd been wanting to for years yet from what I'm hearing, it's hard to get money and an audience and that the mainstream webcomic hosting platforms don't treat their creators well. It doesn't help that while my art is decent, I don't really know how to create webcomics beyond like really short 4-5 panel comics even though I'd been drawing for many years. There's also the issue of my ADHD making it difficult to commit to stuff but then again at least that can be hopefully fixed once I get medicated. So, now the career of a webcomic artist sounds like a pipe dream at best. Is it worth pursuing, even if I don't make much money with it?
"Do you think I should give up on my dream of being a webcomic artist?"
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And this isn't just for you, anon, this is for everyone who follows my nonsense here.
Yes, it's hard to build an audience.
It's even harder to make money.
You should still make webcomics if you really want to do it.
The only practical piece of advice I can give you from the perspective of someone who's been doing this for years is to manage your expectations. Because that's the biggest mistake a lot of webcomic artists make (and I too, made this mistake) they go into it setting the bar that it HAS to result in them making a living off it, getting famous off it, etc. when that's unfortunately only the reality for the 1% who get lucky or have an advantage that the other 99% don't have. And then, of course, failing to meet those ridiculously high expectations makes the fall hurt that much harder if you fail, especially with odds like that stacked against you. That's not to say you shouldn't set a bar for yourself, but you have to set it in a place that's reasonable. Especially if you're an artist with ADHD (same, mood), we have a REAL bad habit of setting the bar unreasonably high for ourselves when we're still learning and getting our feet wet (it's why we're always taking on new hobbies after getting inspired by musicians or crafters and then getting immediately discouraged when we're not suddenly able to do the thing with that same amount of skill).
Set the bar in a reasonable place with reasonable expectations, and then when you MEET that bar, you'll have even more motivation and confidence to aim higher. What won't give you confidence is setting the bar alongside the pros who have been at this for years, because not only will it take way too long to hit that for you to see results, you might give up before you even come close because of how far away the bar is.
A career as a webcomic artist is about as guaranteed as making a career out of Youtube. But being a webcomic artist, period? You can do it. Anyone can do it. I'm still doing it in spite of everything. Like, I cannot even fully express to you just how much of what I do here is the culmination of a long list of failures. My art, my writing, the stuff I do here is built on the corpses of my failures. But those failures were still important, they had to happen to make me into the person and artist I am today. That person is STILL making mistakes, and that artist is STILL not rich LOL Failure is scary, but fear of failure is the true killer of joy and growth.
Do not tie the merit of being a webcomic artist to how much money you can (or can't) make out of it. Just like with starting a Youtube channel, you shouldn't go into it expecting money and fame right out the gate, but there are equal amounts of joy and experience you can gain by doing it. There's a reason people say you have to do it out of love and passion first because ultimately that's all you'll have to keep carrying you through if and when you fail to meet your goals. You don't have to be sure if you'll still want to do it a year from now or five years from now, none of that matters. If you want to do it now, then do it.
Make your 4-5 panel comics if that's what you enjoy doing. Make whatever tickles your fancy. Acknowledge your fears and doubts, thank them for their opinion, and do it anyways. "What if it ends up being a waste of time?" The time will pass anyways. Worst case, at least you'll be able to say you did it. That's better than never trying and regretting it in the end.
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petew21-blog · 2 days
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Detention
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My English teacher just absolutely embarassed me in fornt of the whole class. Not the whole class, cause Joe and Chris are not here, but still. But I am glad they didn't see it. They would have made my life a living hell and called me names, but so would I.
The three of us have been friends since our mothers met on a playground one day. We have been inseperable. Sometimes literally. We even used super glue to never be away from each other. Yeah we went to the ER that night. But we all still laughed like crazy everytime we did pranks like this. We loved to do pranks on other people, but over the time we got bored, they either knew us and our pranks already or they didn't react enough to let us have the final laugh worth having.
That's why we started doing pranks on each other. It was quite brutal sometimes, like the last two prank I did on both of them, but you know, that's the game. We always want to be better than the other.
Back to present
My teacher, Mr. Lionel, called me in front of the whole class and forced me to sing. He said that I can sing Baby by Justin Bieber, cause he remembers that I once wrote that in one of my essays to be my favourite song. WHAT? I would never write that. That's one of my worst nightmares. Of course the whole class laughed.
Then the principal called out through the school radio, that my mom called and brought me new underwear, cause she knows how much I have trouble holding it in.
"That's BULLSHIT!" I yelled out during the class. The stranges thing was that Mr. Lionel didn't scold me right away as he always would, but kept on laughing. He then looked at the class and understood should have acted sooner.
"All right, Mr. Donovan. Principal's office, right now." he handed me the note for the principal and I left.
I was curious as always and took a peek. It said "For being a naughty boy. Deserves spanking. P.S. everything going according to plan so far"
What kind of a language is this. Why would Mr. Lionel write this? Is this how they always talk about us? Cause this is disturbing. I entered the office. The principal smiled at me from ear to ear. He let me sit down and immediately stood up above me
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"So what was it this time, Mr. Donovan?"
"I... reacted on what you said about me in the radio. I said something I shouldn't have."
"Well. That is unfortunate. I might have bad news in that matter I am afraid that might make the situation worse. I have to inform you that we have been searching lockers of students for unwanted drugs and yours contained 5 great bags of weed. Therefore I am going to contact your parents and make you leave our school. Detention is definitely not in order. You have to understand that we don't want anyone to carry drugs to our school."
"But principal, that's not mine. I would have never done that. I have never even used it nor would I ever sell it. It must have been only some kind of prank by my friends."
"Are you trying to say we should expell them?"
"No... of course not. It's just not mine and I don't want to be expelled. Please. I'll do anything."
"Anything you say? he said and rearranged his balls in his pants
"NO FUCKING WAY IS THIS HAPPENING. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE" I started panicking
"Do not worry Mr. Donovan. There is no need to panic. Mr. Lionel is coming now and we will think how to make a proper punishment for you."
We sat in silence, I would bet anything that he was still rubbing himself under the desk. I am not gonna get raped by some old perv today. Even if I would have to stab him in the eye with his pen
Suddenly the door opened. Mr. Lionel came in. The two of them still sat in silence. Then the principal said:"Ok, Mr. Lionel. Show our student here, what he's missing"
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Mr. Lionel took of his shirt and started flexing at us. I had to admit that he was very good looking, but the thought that the principal was still observing me was horrible. I needed to get out.
"So, Billy. Wanna touch me? I'll let you pass"
"Sir, this is... I... NO! I won't do any of this. Leave me the fuck alone both of you, you two creeps!" I got to the door, but found out that Mr. Lionel locked it when he entered.
They looked at themsleves. And then started laughing histerically
Prinicpal:"It's just a prank, bro!"
Me:"What?!"
Mr. Lionel:"Dude, you were so scared. I bet you really do need the underwear now. Must be all wet haha"
Principal:"You still don't get it right, bro?"
Me:"Get what?"
Mr. Lionel:"Dude, it's us. Joe and Chris. And we PRANKED youuu!"
I couldn't believe it. But it was the only thing that made sense
Me:"Wait, how did you? Am I dreaming? Is it really happening?"
Chris (principal):"Yeah it's real bro. We went to the town to find something for our new prank to get revenge on you and we found this talisman in an old shop. And we swapped bodies. We found out that we can swap as many times we want. And then we came up with a plan to prank you. We even planned to embarass you even more, but it would be too cruel."
Me:"Guys, what the fuck? You made me believe that my principal was about to... That was it. We're done with the pranks. No more pranking each other ok? No more revenge pranking. Anything"
Joe (Mr. Lionel):"Ok, dude. Sorry. But you gotta admit it was a great prank, haha"
Me:"Yeah, I believed it."
Chris (Prinicipal):"Guys, are you done brushing your vaginas? I need to get out of this old body like right now. It's horrible to feel this old, dry, weak."
Me:"So, we can swap with anybody, right?"
Chris:"Yeah, got anyone in mind?"
Me:"My brother got back home from college few days ago and his two friends are crashing at ours. They're kinda hot."
Chris:"Great, but you'll have to lure them out"
We stood in front of the mirror in our new college bodies. Admiring each other, flexing, enjoy the muscles, the facil hair of each other
Me:"By the way, where are your original bodies?"
Joe:"Oh, we stashed them in the school. They are tied up so there should be no problem there"
Me:"You know you're gonna have to let them go eventually?"
Chris:"But not right now. Guys, let's see whose dick is bigger!"
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Story in inbox:
Hi i loooooove your story so much🥰
Could u write a story about two guys swapping body with their principal and teacher to teach their friend a lesson 🍆🍆🍆
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r1pp1ng0utmygvtz · 3 days
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Introduction time?? why not??
‼️⚠️BLOCK DONT REPORT⚠️‼️
name: vivian :3
age: minor >15 (18+ can interact just no creeps obv)
pronouns, gender, sexuality: they/xem, non-binary, pan, aroace :3
mental problems: depression, anxiety (both diagnosed) ana, possible ptsd (therapist thinks i have it 😻) and dpdr
about me: EMO, ed focused account, nic anx weed addicted, alcohol enjoyer, i love music (an unhealthy amount) i used to play clarinet in band, i graduated at 15, i used to "make music" when i was like 10-13 but gave up because i'm a perfectionist and hated everything i made :3
fav bands: get scared, waterparks, ptv, mcr, falling in reverse, msi (unfortunately), icp, set it off, sws, paramore, flyleaf, chase atlantic, 100 gecs, i don't know how but they found me
fav artists (long list): 6arelyhuman, rebzyyx, horrormovies, skypebf, syris, asteria, d3r, kets4eki, vyzer, scene queen, kmrnxo, noahfinnce, citrate, hauntingclaire/w6lker, hubithekid, kidsnorlax, marluxiam, britney manson, fraxium, gupi, ayesha erotica, kaneda7, disoc8, lil peep, m1v/m0v, xofilo, dying in designer, hoshie star, cholorofilm, tx2 (old songs), maxo xoxo, avril lavigne, blackbear, ezekiel, tove lo, carrie underwood, thxsomch
hobbies: listening to music, sewing, jewelry making, drawing, painting, learning to play the ukulele (all but music are only occasionally, gotta love executive dysfunction)
uhh there's not really much else but comment if you wanna know more and i'll add it to the post, or i'll add when i think of more things, stats/goals under cut :3
Stats:
height: 166cm (5'5.3)
hw/sw: 136lbs
lw: 99.6lbs
cw: ~100.4lbs (updated every threeish days)
Goals:
130lbs
125lbs
120lbs
115lbs
110lbs
105lbs
100lbs
95lbs
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0cta9on · 2 days
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Hey Bro✌️, I really love your snippet of minji on previous reply, from her cute reaction during make-out session and her cuddle habit🤭. Your style of going for a vanilla approach on her was the best ever.
Have you seen the clip of her wearing this bro?🫣 A freaking one piece clothing 🫢. I'm like " Put some clothes on Miss"😂. Just imagine...
"One special night where she surprised you, the side of her you have never seen before, she hesitated at first but she thinks you deserve it"
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Hello mikeylo!
AGHHHHH THE GLASSES AND THE DRESS!!! SHE'S SO CUTE, IM SCREAMING!!!
I HAVE to write something about this...
It's been a long, tiring day for you. You got yelled at by a customer at work for something you had no control over, and in turn your manager yelled at you despite, again, not having ANY control over it. You wanted to bring your girlfriend out to a nice dinner after work, but some rich asshole decided to reserve the entire restaurant for some party, and it was too late to make a reservation at any other place. Thankfully, Minji was more than understanding, completely content with a movie night at her place.
You knock on her door, your shoulders slumped and your expression downtrodden. Nothing is going right today and you feel bad that your date with Minji ended up getting caught in the crossfire.
The door swings open. "Hi oppa, are you ready for our date~?"
"Hey Minj- Oh wow." Your jaw drops to the floor in awe. Since the two of you are staying in tonight, you assumed that she would be wearing comfortable clothes, but instead, she comes out wearing a pretty brown dress and her cute nerdy glasses that you love.
"Oh my god, you're beautiful."
Minji blushes in response. "Hurry up and come inside, I have everything set up already." She takes your hand and pulls you into her apartment, shutting the door behind you. Before she can even take another step, you pull her into a tight embrace. A long, heavy breath leaves you, all the stress melting from your body in seconds.
"Tough day at work?" Minji asks, gently playing with your hair.
"Ugh, I don't even wanna think about work." The scent of her sweet perfume fills your nostrils, flipping a switch inside your head. You pull away slightly to see her face and caress the soft skin of her cheek with your thumb. Despite all your shortcomings, she's been with you through everything, always being a constant source of comfort and warmth.
"I love you, Minji." You take her lips into a gentle kiss, both of you melting into each other's embrace. Not even the softest marshmallow could compare to the feeling of her lips. Nothing else matters to you except her. And you're determined to show her just how much she means to you.
"I love you too- Mmf!" Minji whimpers, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of kisses on her neck and shoulders. You wrap your arms around her waist, catching her after her legs almost give out. Everything about her is so beautiful - her face, her soul, her body. Nibble her ear, nip at her clavicle, anything to show your love beyond mere words.
"O-oppa... Hmph! W-what's gotten into you today- Ah~!"
You stop momentarily to catch your breath. "Sorry baby, did you not want to...?"
"I-I mean, I didn't say that..." Her gaze nervously falls to the ground, her cheeks burning bright pink. So cute. You can't get enough of her.
You suddenly pick her up, carrying her bridal style. "If it's okay with you, maybe we can skip the movie tonight?"
Minji giggles, bubbling with giddiness. "What did you have in mind?"
You carry her to her bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
"Maybe it's better if I show you rather than tell you~"
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Just a little teaser :] Will I rewrite this into a full story? Who knows ;]
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echobx · 17 hours
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Rafe x reader request:
In episode "Parcel 9," the group plans to cut off a house's power, but they accidentally alert the elderly resident, who defends her home with gunfire. Reader gets injured, and despite objections, they're forced to leave her behind. Later, Rafe overhears their conversation, outraged by their abandonment. Determined to make things right, he enlists Barry to rescue Reader. Rafe finds Reader injured but alive, becoming her unexpected hero, and they bond through the ordeal.
Sorry it’s so long Xx
The Cellar - Rafe Cameron × fem!reader
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summary: see ask
warnings: mention of reader's leg being injured, other than that none
word count: 1k
author's note: idk why it took me so long to finish this 😭 and now the formatting is (imo) bad bc I don't have my laptop here with me but I wanted to post this anyway. it's roughly edited but not much.
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“We don't have a choice,” John B yells and pulls Sarah with him, leaving you stuck under the wooden pillar.
“Sarah!” you cry out but her boyfriend has already pulled her away, out of the cellar and away from you.
You do your best to contain your sobs and cries of pain, not wanting to alert the old lady again. Time passes slowly and you feel yourself growing weaker.
Unbeknownst to you Rafe has his ears perked, listening to John B promise Sarah to go back later that night to get you, but he doesn't sound convincing. Rafe quickly pulls out his phone and texts Barry to meet him at the Crain house.
When they get there it's already getting darker, and they have to use their flashlights to see around the garden and find their way into the cellar.
“John B? JJ?” you whisper as you hear someone enter the cellar, but the voice that answers is not one you are familiar with.
“You really think those two are gonna come back to get you?” Barry laughs quietly before you can see him.
“How'd this happen?” Rafe asks, reaching over to brush over your cheek, removing your tears.
“The old witch shot at us and then this thing fell on my leg and-” You stop before you start crying again and Rafe nods.
“Gonna get you out of here, love,” he promises and turns to Barry. They lift the pillar and you manage to scoot out from under it.
Rafe picks you up and carries you out and towards his car. He saved your life and you don't even know how he knew where to find you. But most of all you wonder why he cares enough to do it.
The ride is quiet, apart from his rather aggressive taps against the steering wheel, or the fact that he's 10 mph over the speed limit.
“Why did you come and get me?” you ask quietly after he puts you down on the couch in his home.
“Because you deserve better to be left alone and all,” Rafe runs his hand over the back of his neck. You have never seen him nervous. As a matter of fact, you have never seen much of him at all, especially not on your own. But now that he's standing in front of you, you get a clear look at him; furrowed brows, lips pressed to a thin line, his hair hanging into his face.
“The doctor will be here in a bit to check on you,” Rafe pulls your attention back to the present.
“Oh, I'm fine, really,” you lie and try to get up, but he catches you just as your legs start to give out from under you.
“I can see that,” he huffs and puts you back down on the sofa.
The doctor comes and leaves rather quickly, only prescribing bed rest and a special ointment for the bruises on your leg, as well as pain medication.
“Maybe I should get you cleaned up before we start the bed rest part of this,” Rafe mumbles and picks you up to go upstairs without you being allowed to say anything about it. It's like he has taken over and you're unsure if you really want to complain about it, about giving parts of your freedom away to him.
He helps you undress with his eyes closed. It's a funny game because he really doesn't want to cross a boundary with you, but he also can't see which makes you giggle when he accidentally grabs your boob instead of your arm and then he jumps back and nearly falls over all by himself.
“I didn't mean to do that,” he apologizes but you keep laughing.
“It's okay.”
His eyes are still closed when he helps you in the bathtub, only opening them after you have confirmed that your bubble bath is covering you completely.
“You can open your eyes again,” you giggle, and he peeks one eye open before looking at you fully. “Didn't think you'd be so weird about potentially seeing some boobs.”
“I'm trying this new thing called, being respectful. Apparently, girls are into that kinda shit,” Rafe says and flashes his eyebrows at you while pulling a small stool over to sit down next to the tub.
“No way!” you fake a gasp and he smiles. “Yeah, you would be surprised how well it's working.”
“Is it?” you ask and he nods, gnawing at his bottom lip.
“Can I be honest with you?” you ask and he nods. “I always thought you were worse. I mean, you're not the best, still-”
“Not my fault you hang out with assholes,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.
“I hang out with Sarah, and Sarah has friends who are not always as bad as you think. I know JJ would've come back to get me,” you argue.
“Did he, though?” Rafe remarks snidely.
“Eventually they would’ve.” You are sure of it, your friends had never left you behind before, surely it had been a mistake.
“I can bring you back there if you're so sure,” Rafe suggests and you shudder.
“No, thank you. The old witch had a fucking rifle.”
“See,” Rafe chuckles softly and you can't help but gaze at him, at how pretty he looks.
You keep talking, getting to know him better, really. You learn that he, just like you, doesn't have the best relationship with his dad, always trying to get approval from the parent. And you learn that he likes bikes, and only golfs to annoy the old fuckers on the course.
And after you're done bathing he gives you some clothes he found in Sarah's room and you lie down on his bed, eating pizza and watching a movie.
“It's the best because they are both doing the same thing and in the end, all their efforts go out of the window because they realize they belong together,” you sigh happily as the movie starts playing. Rafe pulls you into his side, and you let him. And although he's not a fan of rom-coms, he sits with you, more focused on your reactions to the film than the actual screen.
And while he's watching you, he can't help but thank your dumb Pogue friends for leaving you behind and giving him a chance to win you over.
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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho
taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart @notdxbya
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softpascalito · 17 hours
Text
I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 2 I
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Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.
But he doesn't stay a stranger.
Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added
AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist
notes: i can't tell you all how i excited i am to get this fic going! thank you for the lovely comments on the first chapter, i promise there is a lot of cool stuff to come!
this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.
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Chapter 2 - The Patrol
‘Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.’  - Richard Silken, The Worm King’s Lullaby
There is a thin sheet of ice covering the streams that are heading downwards. It crunches under the hooves of their horses that dutifully carry them up the hill and past the gas station. Joel is glad that it's Tommy next to him. He's more tense than he's felt in ages, a gnawing feeling in his stomach that has little to do with the skipped breakfast and a lot with the worry that is etched into the frown between his brows. He wouldn't want anyone to see him like this, much less try and calm him down, something he knows is a lost battle.
“They might be fine, Joel,” his younger brother says gently, just loud enough for him to hear. Tommy thinks there will be no response until one comes, a little too late for it to not be premeditated.
“She talked about leaving, sometimes. They would be stupid enough to run off-”
“And leave Jackson?” Tommy raises a brow. “Maria said their house looked normal, all their things still in place. They wouldn't be stupid enough to leave all that behind.”
Joel doesn't want to hear it. He knows, better than anyone. Knows that you wouldn't just leave, not without saying goodbye to the children you'd come to care about so much. Would you leave him without a goodbye?
He almost hopes you would. Because if you didn't leave willingly, what was the alternative? It would've been nearly impossible for someone to take you from inside Jackson with no one noticing. But he can't shake the feeling that something is off.
It’s Tommy who has to keep reminding him to ride slow, to keep an eye on the ground for possible tracks. Joel just wants to go, to spur Old Beardy on until they're galloping up the hill, despite not knowing where it is he needs to go. He just wants to find you. Preferably in one piece, happy and healthy. 
He would’ve missed it.
The small footprints leading off the road and onto a smaller path, one that's twisting through pines and further into the woods. 
Tommy nods. “Pretty sure ‘tis the one that leads to the hunting cabin.”
It only takes a few minutes for them to be sure. The wooden cabin is hidden away behind a few trees, difficult to spot if you don't know where to look. It doesn't really serve any purpose, at least not anymore. The roof at the back caved in years ago, allowing rain and plants alike to enter the dimly lit room. It’s less than five miles from the gate of Jackson, tucked away from the main road.
He can’t help but think that this would be the perfect place to run off to. Or to hide a body.
Joel is off his horse in a second, not even bothering to tie the stallion's halter to the wooden posts in front of the cabin. Without thinking, he tugs his revolver out of his waistband, using his foot to nudge the door open.
He smells it before his eyes even have a chance to adjust to the dim light. The unmistakable stench of blood. And mixed with it, creating an odor that immediately makes him sick to his stomach, the smell of gunpowder in the air.
***
The sun has been slowly rising while you’ve been flipping through the pages, trying to find the volumes you’re looking for. The library of Jackson, though rather small, has been frequented more and more, especially in the winter months when the weather doesn’t always allow activities outside and people resort to what they’ve always known: Books.
The entire place is supposed to be relocated soon, to a small store on main street. But compared to the greenhouses needing repairs and the stables being expanded, books don't seem to be a priority for most of the townsfolk.
“Books can’t feed us or keep us safe,” Maria pointed out when you brought the slow progress up to her. You politely disagree. You feel like you could live off books for the rest of your life.
Still, packing up everything means the old place, a shed tucked away behind the church, is currently a mess. Sagging bookshelves, a leaky roof and too many books for too little space means chaos. One that only few bother to navigate in its current state. You among them.
It was the crack of dawn when you slipped out of the house, deciding to let Lane sleep in while you walked through the still empty streets to the far end of the town, hoping to get the library work out of the way before the first lesson of the day.
Maria is the one that finds you, making your head peek up from between two shelves with a frown. “You changed your mind on those books?”
She gives a small laugh, one that sounds oddly like relief. Then her face becomes stern again, the look she carries much more often. “You two have some explaining to do, do you realize that?”
Now it's your turn to frown. “We two?” She pauses at that, looking around the small room. But there is no one here but you and her and the characters bleeding from the pages.
“Is Lane not with you?”
You shake your head, turning your attention back to the book in your hands. “She has the 8AM class today.” 
“She's not there,” Maria curtly responds. You can tell she's trying to keep her voice steady but there is a hint of anxiety regardless. 
“Then she overslept again,” you half guess-half ask, closing the book again.
“She's not at home either.”
An odd feeling crawls over your body. You can't remember what was in your hands a moment ago, but the question is forgotten in an instant. Maria carefully watches as you step out from between the shelves, her tone still gentle. “I've sent Tommy and Joel out to search. We thought you two snuck out.”
You feel numb as you shake your head. “No, I- I didn't see her this morning. I thought she was still asleep.” You rack your brain for the memories of this morning, of last night, of the last week even. But nothing comes to mind, nothing out of the ordinary.
“I was out late last night, finishing up some paperwork,” you mutter, more to yourself than the woman in front of you, retracing your steps in your mind. “Lane got home before me, I had dinner, we talked about blueberries-”
“Blueberries?” Maria asks, her hand already back on the doorknob. She seems restless and it's that fleeting detail that worries you more than anything. Maria stays in control. Always. 
“Yeah, we- It doesn't matter. I don't know where she is,” you finish lamely, getting up and joining her at the door. But she hasn't moved yet.
“You should stay at home. I'm sure she'll show up again soon and if she comes back to your place, someone should be there.” You nod but your mind is already drifting again. Lane’s been doing fine, good. So have you, really. Maria gently reaches for your shoulder, steering you out of the shed and towards the church, down the street that leads to the center of Jackson. 
You're passing the small graveyard that's protected by brick walls, the stones already withered, pale in contrast to the dark metal fence running along on top. The gate is ajar, but you barely pay it any attention as the information settles in your brain. It takes a few seconds for it to reach your mouth and leave your lips.
“She went out a few times.” 
“Out?” Maria enquires, raising an eyebrow as her attention shifts back to you.
“I thought she'd met someone. Cat and her were pretty close and I figured-” You give a small shrug. It's more than uncomfortable, suddenly, and absurd, that you're discussing Lane's private life so openly, with Maria of all people.
“Don't tell her I said that,” you add quickly. 
Maria nods as you reach the end of the brick wall. “I won't. I'll get back to the city hall and see if there’s any news yet. You go home.”
Your head nods as if on its own accord. Maria has already turned her back towards you when you pipe up. “Maria?” 
She pauses, her back straightening a bit. “Yes?”
“You don't think anything happened to Lane, do you?” 
The older woman shakes her head softly. “No. I'm sure she's fine. Now get home. Maybe she's already there.”
And she hurries off, leaving you at the corner of the street with a trembling body and a heavy feeling in your stomach. For a fleeting moment, you allow your thoughts to wander past the point you've been dreading to consider. What if something has happened? If Lane did sneak out, maybe with Cat, maybe alone, and got into some sort of situation? What if she's hurt?
The sky has turned from pink to a light blue, only a few clouds piling around the mountains on the horizon. You glance down at your hands, shaking ever so slightly. You decide to blame it on the cold. The cold that may be getting to your head as well. Because after a few moments, you turn on your heels, heading for the stables. It's only a few rows of houses until the large wooden wall looms in front of you, blocking out the little sunlight you could get in the morning. The wall that protects you from what lies beyond. Infected and Raiders and maybe, you think, as you slip into the stables, maybe answers.
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if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing and commenting, every single notif on this fic makes my heart swell with love <3
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wonton4rang · 2 days
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hey! i read you wanted to write more for woonhak so i had an idea :)
maybe “firsts” with him? as in asking e/o out, officially dating, first kiss, etc! (maybe you could include making out, WITHOUT any suggestive remarks ofc!)
it’s all up to you! have a good day 🫶
omg ilysm!! i literally had no idea on what to do for woonagi so thanksss<33 hope u enjoy this.
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i love u 3000 ¡!
pairing: woonhak x reader.
warnings: none!! fluff, some angst maybe, kissing and lots of giggles :')
summary: short scenarios of firsts with woonhak.
note: should i make a series with this theme? all bnd boys w the same scenarios. it would also include some suggestive/ smut for the other members. UPDATE: i am making the series!! you can see it here.
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first encounter; i feel like he would most likely fall in love at school, not because he's young but also because that's the place where he spends the most time and it's not on a "professional" type of way so he can actually focus on just having fun and creating relationships. you are for sure one of his close friends and he just got so used to your presence that he didn't really noticed he liked you for more than just a friend.
first time he realises he's in love; it would be a day you fall in the field during gym class, he would get so worried about your wellbeing, carrying you on his back until the nurse's office. but that wasn't what made him realize he liked you, it was the way he went back to the field after he made sure you were being treated so he could push the boy who made you fall, telling him how lucky he is that you were fine, otherwise his face would be meeting the dusty ground. woonhak was NEVER a fighter, did he get overwhelmed and yelled? yes, but never this type of aggressiveness. so it was pretty obvious for him once he held your hand in the nursery and realized how crazy he was for you.
how would he confess; contrary to his mbti and his usual behaviour, i do think that woonhak would be a shy person when it comes to love, he won't doubt to express his love once you are already together but to confess?? it would make him go sleepless for a few nights, his hands sweating when you get close to him after he called you up to meet at his house, his parents were out and it wasn't weird because you mostly hangout with him like this everyday. but today you noticed how nervous he looked and kinda pinpoint what he wanted to do when he whispered a little "i need to talk to you". he would tell you how much he cares about you and that he understands if you don't feel the same way, it's just that he wouldn't forgive himself if he never said anything and lost his chance. and well, he did have a chance.
officially dating w woonagi; he's an extroverted boy, very energetic yet he would try to keep his cool with you too. he would definitely be a clingy boyfriend, the type of boyfriend who's friends would be tired of hearing your name each time they were having a conversation.
"are you going out tonight, woonhak?"
"i think y/n wanted to do something, let me ask her"
"do you want pizza or hamburgers for today?"
"y/n likes hamburgers better, can we have those?"
"haerin asked about you yesterday"
"did you tell her that i am dating y/n and i love my girlfriend very much?"
"woonhak, for fucks sake, haerin is your cousin"
"ah, you're right" type of boyfriend.
that doesn't mean he won't have his own opinions though!! he does knows how to separate you from himself, so it's not like his life revolves or depends on you only.
first kiss; it would honestly happen spontaneously, he would try so hard to make it special and actually plan it but it always got ruined, something happened, you guys got interrupted, anything. so when you actually kissed him in the lips for the first time he would get frozen, looking at you with wide open eyes and his hand going up to his lips because he just couldn't believe it.
"i'm sorry if you didn't want to-"
"can i kiss you again?" and he would kiss you lots, all over your face with that bright smile of his while you both giggled, the other boys side eyeing you both as you apparently forgot they were there too.
first time he wanted to do more than just a peck; woonhak is a very hyper person but he is also really chill (idk if that makes sense) so you would be just doing homework together or watching a movie when he leaned in for a kiss, then another one, and another one. that's when you looked at him with a tilted head, asking for an explanation in silence.
"can i kiss you?" you nodded a little bit confused, not understanding why he asked for permission to do something he already did. "like... kiss you, kiss you"
and that's when you understood, allowing him to do so and laughing during it because you guys didn't even know how to get the correct angle and pace, teeth smashing for a few minutes until you finally got the hang of it. it was so cute the way you guys kissed with so much dedication and pure love.
first time meeting your family; he would be literally shaking, like physically trembling the second the door opened and your dad showed up. he even thought on sneaking out when he went to the bathroom once, but then it eventually got better, he started trusting a little bit more in himself and opened up to your dad and mom, chatting with your old man about some bands from the 90s and that basketball team he loved, plus helping your mom with the dishes and rizzing her up on how pretty she is and how pretty her daughter came out because of it?? your parents love him and you can have it for sure that he'll be visiting them even without you, just to check up on them and bring them some food.
overall, i truly believe that woonhak would be a really funny, outgoing and sensitive boyfriend. he would love you like you are the only person in the world (cause for him, you are), he would try to always make you happy and never have an argument because he knows how mad he can get and he would hate to say harsh things to you.
i also see him as a 50,50 when it comes to commitment, he wouldn't cheat but i can most definitely see him ditching you over his job or school stuff, just to apologize later with the excuse that it's "about his future", and he's right, but there was no need to be rude about it.
so yeah, if you can put up with his hyper, loving, talkative, kind self and his touchy hands, irritable mood when stressed and his yelling in general for everything and because of anything, then woonhak is definitely your pick <3
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