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#I just can't believe it happened in my fucking inbox
xerith-42 · 6 months
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Sansrance
I... Hold on...
Okay I had to make sure there wasn't fanart of it. There possibly will be now, and that possibility is genuinely making me not want to post this, but if I had to read it so does everyone else.
I hope you're happy Anon. I am genuinely baffled and befuddled on how I feel about this being a thing that exists because of my actions. Congratulations.
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triglycercule · 26 days
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Murder trio
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i actually cried seeing this in my inbox i will not lie. like actually fucking cried tears of joy /srs absolutely no words can express just how absolutely thralled i am that you drew this. i'm actually ACTUALLY so so overjoyed and flattered and so happy that someone could manage to encapsulate just how much i love the jk!trio and just how silly they are and how you put your own spin on this and made them just as cute and silly and amazing as i've always wanted to see I'M ACTUALLY CRYING THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DRAWING THE JK!MTT 😭😭😭
im so sorry for the late answer i have literally had no time to draw but TYSM FOR THIS I DREW MORE JK AU 4 YOU TO THANK YOU❤️❤️💜💜💙💙 ‼️‼️
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they just got out of an extreme gaming session at the boardwalk arcade and now the suns setting and killer wants to get ice cream before it sets so they can watch the sunset but as usual she's a bit too excited for horror and dust to keep up and dust is absolutely dying (she gets ZERO excercise and killer is FAST) and horror just wants to take her time and also spare dust from killer's wrathful running speed. its ok though they manage to eat the icecream while watching the sunset even while slowed down (the vibes in this one are immaculate this is what jk fashion au stands for. silly fluffy important friendship bonding memories. i love. it's not full effort because i wanted to get this done quickly so i wouldnt respond late but im UNFORTUNATELY busy and now its been a day,,,,, I STILL LOVE THE ART YOU SENT ME THANM YKJ SO MUCH)
#nobody understands just how much i love this#NOBODY DOES. NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU. NONE.#this means so much to me i actually cant even explain#i NEVER expected that someone would ACTUALLY DRAW JK FASHION MTT. I NEVER DID#I JUST MADR JK AU BECAUSE I WAS FEELING LONELY AND BORED AND I LIKED THE CONCEPT#AND SOMEONE COMES OUT HERE AND MAKES ART OF SOMETHING I DIDN'T EVEN PUT THAT MUCH EFFORT INTO#IM ACTUALLY OVERJOYED I CANT BELIEVE THIS#i love art i love expression i love experiencing joy from the kindness of others#i don't even cry that much but this legitimately made me cry. like seriously#and theyre so cute and theyre so happy and sweet and amazing#and the rendering on this is absolutely fucking gorgeous#and i love how horror looks cute but she's giving dirty looks and all that#and killer is JUST SO HAPPY AND GO LUCKY AND STUPID I LOVE HER#DUST MY ANTISOCIAL BABY SHE LOOKS SO EMBARRASSED TO BE HERE#THIS IS SOOOO CUTE I CSNT HELP IM CDRYING IM DYING#how long did this take. i need to know. i can't believe you actually made art of my cheap concept and it looks so good#god now i need to draw more jk!mtt. just knowing that there's someone out there that likes the au so much makes me wanna create#goddamn ink and his joy of creating. he's cheering me on in my head right now#THIS IS LITERALLY THEM. THE MUTED COLOR PALETTES LOOK SO GOOD FOR THE FIRST 2#AND THEN THE BRIGHT PASTEL THIRS ONE??? ITS EXACTLY THE KIND OF GIRLY PASTEL CUTE I LOVE WITH THEM#unrelated but when i saw this in my inbox and it was censored i was expecting to see gore or something. not THIS. christmas came early#i had to whip up a thank you response quick and fast because this is the biggest mkst flattering thing ever. how can i not be thankful#how much art will it take to repay you for your time and effort. i will keep making jk au art until its been repaid#i really wanna use this as my pfp but i dont wanna not credit you so can i pls use it for my pfp.....???? will credit!!!!! PLEASE PLEASE PL#maybe i'll just redraw one of these and use it as my pfp instead if that's ok. i need to change my pfp anyways#ITS STOLEN ART AND I CANT FFIND THR OG ARTIST AND ITS BOTHERING ME I SHOULD CHANG IT#i get all giddy and happy and giggly when i see this it means so much to me. this is the best thing thats happened in ever#tricule asks#tricule art#jk fashion au
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reiderwriter · 9 months
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Please Accept My Apology
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After three days spent trying to convince the BAU that they had made a mistake, Spencer Reid shows up at your door to offer his apology.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap, penetrative sex, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, hints of bdsm, implied creampie etc.
You can find my masterlist here and my 2024 song fic challenge here (don't forget to send song recommendations to my inbox!)
You never thought you'd ever see the inside of an interrogation room before this week. Now you didn't think you'd ever see the outside of it.
“Y/N, you're brother ran from law enforcement multiple times, if you know where he is you need to tell us or you'll be charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping after the fact. Is that what you want?”
“Of course it isn't what I want, but I already told you I can't fucking help you!”
You paced in the boxed room, feeling closed in and hot.
Your brother - your innocent brother - was the key suspect in a series of child abductions and murders, and as he'd ran from law enforcement multiple times, they'd dragged you into the police precinct to try to track him down.
For the last three days, you'd been stuck sitting at that table across from Doctor Spencer Reid, waiting for the worst news of your life, because you knew it was coming.
“He's not a murderer. He's mentally ill, but he wouldn't hurt anyone. I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?”
“A lot of loved ones protest a suspect's innocence, right down to the last second.” You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from the depth of your chest.
“My brother is schizophrenic. He was violent before, sure, he had outbursts. But he has been monitoring his meds for the last three years perfectly. He has a job, he has a son. He would not hurt those kids.”
You had always looked up to your elder brother, even through the tough years.
He'd inherited both your fathers drinking problem and your mother's mental illness, each demon feeding the other until he had a breakdown at age 19.
You were only 17 yourself, but with no one else to hold him accountable, you'd been there. You'd checked him into a facility, you drove him to each of his doctor's appointments when he was clean. You'd been around for each sober anniversary, for each birthday and holiday and celebration that he'd made it one more year without falling into himself.
He'd reciprocated by being the most reliable man you knew. He helped put you through college when he was stable enough, he'd managed to work his way up in the ranks at his construction job. He had a beautiful wife (currently in another interrogation room with another agent) and the cutest little boy.
He'd promised you that your family struggles would end with the two of you. You'd promised each other to take care of each others families if anything happened to them in the future, and while you currently had no family to speak of, you sure as hell were going to make sure that your nephew never wanted for anything in his life.
Your brother wasn't a murderer, and you had proof enough.
“You know, you haven't asked me yet why I think he's innocent.” You took your seat again, and gathered your hands together on the table, leaning in closer to the agent in front of you.
You watched him think for a second, then mirror your pose, leaning in just as close, eyes locked with yours.
You'd talked about a lot of things these past three days, and you got the idea that he was a bit of a jackass. If not a jackass, then at least big-headed; he'd practically shouted his title of Doctor at you as he'd walked in, and made sure to correct you every time you'd called him agent or sir.
You kept doing it just to piss him off eventually.
“It's denial, Miss Y/L/N. You don't want to see the signs you'd ignored for that lingered, so you beg and protest and plead, hoping that eventually you'll turn out to be correct.” His voice was low, but you caught every word.
“While I am sure you know what you're talking about Agent Reid, that is not why I'm here still. I'm not being charged with a crime, and I've been here much longer than 24 hours. I'm free to go at any point, but I'm sticking around here, lawyer free, because I want to watch your face when you realise you'd been wrong this entire time.”
He shifted uncomfortably and you smiled, happy to get under his skin once again.
“Okay, Miss Y/L/N. What makes you so sure your brother is innocent?”
“Your profile.” His eyes slightly widened at that, and you basked in it, leaning back and waiting for him to take the bait as the tide turned in your conversation.
“We profiled that our unsub would be late 20s to early 30s, probably a family man who'd likely been abused as a child. The profile also suggested he may have had a psychotic break recently, likely as a result of coming off his meds. Your brother fits the profile, Y/N.”
He'd dug his own grave, and you were happy to see him getting ready to sleep in it too.
“No, he doesn't, Agent.”
A tense silence passed between you, and you knew his gaze was fixed on you. You let your eyes dart elsewhere, rolling down his body to his hands. They were totally still of course, but you could see how tense he was by the way he pushed them flat against the table, almost as if he were trying to ground himself, finding reassurance in the pressure.
“How does he not fit the profile?” His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of annoyance now.
No matter how much you had shouted or let out your frustrations these past few days, he'd kept a placid look of sympathy plastered across his features. He hadn't listened, or even suggested he'd wanted to, assuming your brother was guilty.
Now he was annoyed, as if he had the right.
“Despite what your records supposedly tell you, my brother is not off his meds.”
“Miss Y/L/N, we know that your brother did not refill his prescription three months ago, and that he looked into some clinical trials in the metropolitan area and was rejected.”
“Congratulations for having 50% of the facts. My brother wasn't rejected from those trials, he withdrew because they changed the terms. They wanted to study my nephew as well to see if they could predict where hereditary cases of Schizophrenia would manifest.”
You leaned in again now, enjoying watching the thoughts rush through Spencer Reid's head once again.
“His health insurance had some issues after the withdrawal, so his prescription couldn't be filled until next week, but my brother always had six months of pills delivered.”
You watched the realisation come crashing down on the agent in front of you, though he was doing a good job of keeping himself out together.
It was time to end this conversation.
“To take part in the clinical trial, he needed to stop taking his regular medication for two weeks. Meaning he has two more weeks of his regular medication. I watched him take it Monday morning, right about when your second kidnapping occurred. My sister-in-law will confirm.”
He stood from his chair slowly and nodded at you, making his way to the door.
“And Agent Reid?” You said making sure to hold his attention one last time before he could leave. “If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you responsible.”
He slipped from the room without another word, and you relaxed into the chair, letting your eyes fall shut as you waited patiently.
Xxx
It was another week before your brother was totally cleared. He'd turned himself into law enforcement the same day you'd forced the BAU to reevaluate their profile, and both he and his wife had cracked up your story.
With nothing else to distract them, you'd been happily informed that they'd caught the actual perpetrator, and saved another victim.
You were back at home now, trying to relax, to get back on track.
You knew by the knock on the door that you weren't going to get back to your normal routine just yet.
“Agent Reid, I wasn't expecting you.” He was there at your door, and you had to brush off a wave of annoyance, forcing yourself not to slam the thing in his goddamn face.
“It's Doctor Reid. You know that, though.” He mumbled the words, jaw tense as he heaved out a sigh, trying to get to his point but being distracted by your prickly words.
“I came to talk. May I come inside?”
“We talked for three days straight, Doc. What else could we possibly need to discuss?” You made sure to block the door with your body, one arm resting on the doorframe as you leant across it, the other holding the door tightly next to you.
You thought he'd get the idea, tuck his tail between his legs, and swiftly leave you alone, but you were sadly mistaken.
Instead his eyes raked over your body as you put it on display, curiously exploring every inch you put in his eyeline.
“May I come in?” He repeated, eyes still trailing down your body. If it weren't for the heat building inside of you, you'd have slammed the door in his face. A moment's hesitation was all you got instead, as he locked eyes with you again, and you reluctantly moved an inch to the side.
You stayed there in the doorway even as he entered, his body brushing against yours almost intimately for the second, his hand faintly tracing over your hip as he stepped inside, watching you all the time.
Needing desperately to gain your composure back, you jumped into asking questions. “You're in now. What do you want?”
“I wanted to apologise.” He hadn't moved far into the apartment, and you realised aa soon as you turned away from locking the door, overestimating his distance. You spun right into his arms, one of his palms coming to your waist to steady you as the other steadied the two of you against the wall.
“And whatever would the wonderful Doctor Reid need to apologise for?”
Your words were venomous, but the heat in them rose from somewhere deeper than the acid in your stomach, somewhere more fiery than the burning sensation at the back of your throat.
“I'm trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.”
“After a week of doing the wrong thing, Spencer, I'm not sure you're fully capable of that.”
His brows furrowed as he pouted, and you hated his proximity, both too close and too far at the same time. You wanted to run him apart, and then delicately sew him back together.
“I was doing my job.”
“You almost got my brother killed.”
“I'm sorry.” He heaved out an exasperated breath with the words, body relaxing and pushing your back fully against the wall. His eyes widened, and you could tell that he hadn't meant to move you in that way, but you just stared at him still, eyes flicking down to his lips with every intrusive thought.
This was how close you needed him.
“I don't give a shit if you're sorry.” You meant the words to be harsh a warning, but you hadn't realised your heartbeat bursting from your throat, your breathy gasps for air making it sound more erotic than angry.
He blinked once, then twice, slowly as if he was a scientist observing an experiment, not wanting to take his eyes off of it until he was certain something wouldn't happen.
“You're enjoying this.”
“I'm not.”
“Your heart rate is at 127 bpm, your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow. You're enjoying this. Why?”
His hands didn't let up, even as he shot out his words, brows furrowing further as you resisted the urge to push him away.
It was more comfortable keeping him close.
“I told you I am not enjoying this. You're just too close.”
“So, you're having a physical reaction to me?” He asked, almost quizzically. You had expected to hear a triumphant smirk or something in his voice, but he seemed genuinely curious.
“For God's sake, Spencer, yes. Yes, you're close and it's making me uncomfortable. You spent three days making me feel uncomfortable, and now you've come back for round two, are you happy now?”
“You're not uncomfortable,” he shot out again, almost as if he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. “You're aroused.”
“Know it all.” He laughed at that, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You weren't sure what the hell was going on with your body, because you'd spent the week despising the man in front of you, but now a simple hand on your wrist and a laugh had you blushing like a schoolgirl.
“So what if I am aroused? You're touching me, you have me pinned against the wall, really this is your fault, Agent.”
“It's Doctor, but you can call me Spencer. Or you can go back to another colourful insult if you'd prefer?”
“You're pretty full of yourself, I thought you came to apologise.”
“I did, it's not exactly me that is acting like they want to be filled right now though.”
“Jackass,” you snapped, as he lowered his hand around to cup your ass, finally allowing himself a tiny hint at the smirk you'd predicted earlier.
You gasped as he took a handful of your ass and pulled you flush against him.
“I want to say sorry, I want to make it up to you. I'm being quite charitable here.”
“Charity, my dear Doctor, is where you give something and expect nothing in return. It seems like you want something in return.” You spat the words again but you let your hands press lightly against his chest, waiting for him to make the next move as you played with the buttons of his shirt.
“I'd be more than happy to do that, too.”
You weren't sure who reached for who, or which one of you made the first push, but you were suddenly joined together by your lips, each of you battling furiously for dominance.
Your hands pushed up desperately, clawing into his long, busy strands and pulling him down further into you as you worked against him.
He was still stronger than you though, so when he forced your head back an inch, you moved out of necessity.
“Is that enough, or should I keep apologising?”
“Nowhere near enough, jacka-” he cut you off by pushing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, using one of his legs to spread yours so he could nuzzle himself between them.
“Why so quiet now? We couldn't shut you up in those interrogation rooms, but now you're so polite and obedient.” You moaned around his thumb as he stroked your tongue, encouraging you to suck it.
You didn't need much instruction, desperate now to show off your superior skills to the man in front of you.
“That's it, show me how much you want it, my little whore.”
His hand slipped into your pants quietly, but you twitched as his hands feathered their way along your pelvic bone, twitching at the sensitivity of the connection.
His hands slipped into your panties and you knew immediately it was over for you. You were so wet, and he was going to be able to tell just how much you apparently wanted him.
You moaned as he roughly pushed your pants down, finger teasing your cunt through your panties as you still struggled to suck his thumb so you didn't make any louder noises.
“You're enjoying this.” It was no longer a question, but a confident statement, no curiosity but simple satisfaction at how good he was making you feel.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth, rubbing some saliva across your lips to make them shine before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Your hands barely pushed out in from of you before your chest collided with the wall, and he was close behind you.
As he coaxed your panties down your legs, you closed your eyes and tried to keep your breathing steady, desperately clinging to some high ground where you could find it.
His fingers were hot and long, and they quickly found your clit and got to work as he ground his hard cock against your bare ass.
His pants were still on, but you could feel the outline of his dick against you, hips rutting back into him with each flick of his wrist.
“Now, come on Y/N. You said it's not charity if I receive something in return, right?” He whispered into your ear as you tried to reach behind you to grab his dick.
“We're going to take this nice and slow, and you're going to enjoy all of it.”
His fingers slowed to an aching pace as he finally pushed a first digit inside of you. His hips finished moving and his free hand held you still too, so the only friction was coming from that one hand between your legs, practically edging you.
“Fuck me, just fuck me Spencer.” You moaned in frustration.
“Doctor.” He whispered in your ear, the glee in his voice igniting your hatred of him all over again.
“What?” You spat out.
“Call me Doctor Reid, and I'll give you anything you want. You want to cum, right?”
His fingers kept their slow pace, and you could feel yourself growing more impatient, even as you grit your teeth together.
“Fuck me, Doctor Reid.”
“What about please?”
“Fuck you.” You instantly regretted your words when he pulled his hands off your body completely, retreating further into your house.
“No, shit, wait.-”
You scrambled after him as he took a seat on your couch, removing his jacket and loosening his already dishevelled tie.
“What do you want, Y/N?” He asked, palming himself through his pants as he watched you practically fall at his feet, needing his hands back on you.
“I want you to f-fuck me, please Doctor Reid.” He nodded slightly, pulling your remaining clothing off as he responded.
“That's a good little slut.” He led your hand over his cock and let you undo the buttons and pull him out. You needed no other instructions as he leaned back and pulled your legs into a firmer position.
You gave his cock a few strokes before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him.
“So fucking wet for me, you were so aroused, baby.”
He didn't let you control the pace, but held your hips still just above him as he began pushing into you from below, lifting his hips to fill you up with each thrust.
You couldn't bite back the screams as his balls slapped against you, Spencer trying his best to fit his entire length into you with each deep thrust. You wanted to kill the man only an hour earlier, and now you were sure you wanted to have him inside you like this forever.
“Oh fuck, just like that, just like that Spencer please!”
Your hand drifted down to your cunt and you're began to rub feverishly, even as you felt the pressure build up from your gut.
The pressure was almost unbearable and before you knew it you were squirting on his cock, fingers splashing wave after wave of your arousal over his cock and clothes.
“Already squirting for me? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, Y/N. I guess you are just a little whore.”
You twitched, but couldn't respond, as he began thrusting sloppier than ever before, grunting in your ear as he finally joined you in your mess.
His grip on your hip slipped as he finally started cumning, and you moaned feeling him so deep as he gathered you in his arms and pulled you chest to chest.
You sat there panting together for an eternity before you even thought about detangling your limbs from one another.
“You made a mess of my fucking sofa.” You said as you finally rose up slightly, looking down at the mess beneath you.
“No, Y/N, that was you. I simply helped.”
“Jackass.”
“Whore.”
You gasped as he laughed at you again, pulling your hips back down over his so you couldn't slide off his cock again.
“Don't act so scandalised when I can feel just how much that turned you on. You're enjoying this.”
You pouted a little, but let your head fall back against his chest.
“And what if I am, Agent Reid?”
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two-sides-halved · 2 years
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"There are strange forces at work here... and you can't tell me other wise."
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bbystark · 18 days
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♡ simon is a bad stalker part 2 ♡
badstalker!simon x reader
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♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡
summary: in which you meet your stalker, but not in the way you thought. mdni
a/n: the response on my last fic?? omg?? crazy. this is for @madzzz0797 and everyone else who requested! i love yall.
simon isn't someone to be stunned. the dude has seen some shit, not much has the capacity to knock the air out of his lungs.
except you, of course. "i want to meet you."
what in the actual fuck.
the words rattle around his skull, and he has to actually brace himself against the wall.
there is actually no way. he shouldn't be surprised, really. despite the fact that you didn't even know his name, he knew everything about you.
he knew the reason you started seeing a therapist wasn't because you were afraid of something happening to you, it was the fact that you didn't know what was going to happen.
above all else you really just hated not understanding what the "why's" in life. of course you weren't going to the police. only you would be primarily focused on figuring out why he was doing what he was doing, personal safety aside.
simon has no idea how to respond, so he simply hangs up. he's suddenly overwhelmed by the consequences of his own actions. he hadn't covered his tracks well because he somehow simply missed the severity what he was doing.
to him his motive was simple; he found you to be one of the only good things left in this world and it was only natural that he tries to protect you from the bad.
but then he realized that to you, some strange man was interfering with your life and literally sending personal drivers to your rescue seemingly out of nowhere.
again, simon thinks, he's completely fucked.
he weighs his options, like he has any. so far, you've taken the situation relatively well, and it seems like the only way he could do any type of damage control is to give you what you want.
on the other hand, he wants to run for the hills. to ghost you, essentially. but he knows he can't for the same reason he started this whole thing in the first place.
simon had an undeniable need to keep you safe and close.
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
when the line goes dead, you audibly say "what the fuck!?" to no one. he's the one stalking you, and he hangs up? what a dick.
then, as you begin to sober, you realize how much of a fucked up situation you're in. you contemplate calling a friend, spilling your guts about everything. then you realize it's 3am, and you should probably go to bed.
the following week you kind of just... go on as usual. you still feel watched, but for some reason you don't feel it as intensely. you wonder if you spooked your own stalker, and the thought almost makes you giggle.
then you come home one day and you immediately know something is off. your cat doesn't greet you as quickly as usual, (something that started when simon started coming around, he knew how much you worried about the thing being lonely, so he took it upon himself to drop by and give it attention every once in a while).
then you see it, a box of pastry on your kitchen table. you drop your purse on the ground, approaching it like it was an explosive.
a pretty little bow is wrapped around it (simon had seen your pinterest, he doesn't understand the bow obsession, but he knows you would like it)
you open the box, a note taped on the lid. it was your favorite croissants from your favorite bakery, and you shiver a little when you realize the box is still warm.
you snatch the note from the lid, shooing your cat away from sniffing at the croissants.
"i'm sorry. we can meet soon, i promise."
you roll your eyes. you can't believe he's suddenly back with a note and pastries like he's an ex you broke it off with.
and then it sinks in, he said you would meet soon.
almost as if on cue, your home computer chimes.
you pick up your cat, clutching to her like she would be any help in the situation. you open your inbox and pale when you see a blocked email.
you open it, almost dropping your cat when you see that it's a zoom link.
your stalker just sent you a zoom link like you were about to have a business meeting. you click the link before you can change your mind, seeing the little pop up that informs you one person is in the meeting.
there was no way you were about to have a meet and greet over zoom with your fucking stalker.
you immediately close out of the tab and walk away, setting your cat down and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. you laugh like a psycho for a long time, your cat throwing you judgmental looks.
then you stop laughing, and you find yourself sitting in front of your computer with your cursor hovering over the 'join meeting' button.
you check one more time that your camera is turned off and will your shaking hand to click the stupid button.
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
simon watches as you laugh, and it does nothing to help calm his nerves. he silently hopes that you choose not to join the stupid video call because he's not even sure he could get any words out if you did.
the zoom was soap's idea, saying it might take the edge off (and the risk of you calling the cops). simon thought it was stupid but reluctantly agreed at the prospect of being one step closer to you.
he's pulled from his thoughts when the annoying doorbell chime lets him know that you did it, you actually joined the meeting. with your camera off, of course, not that it mattered when simon had your whole place bugged anyway.
his heart stops, he sees you staring at the screen, taking in a scarily large man in a mask and hood. he doesn't know where to put his eyes, much less what to say.
you break the ice for him, "this is way fucking weirder than just meeting you in person."
he wants to laugh, but stays silent, watching as you instinctively lean farther and farther away from your screen.
he watches you for a second before responding. "thought it would be easier like this."
for you or for him, you have no idea. you don't ask about the mask, assuming he just didn't want you to be able to identify him.
"yeah okay. um," he watches your face screw up as you try to find the words.
you settle with a simple "what the fuck?"
you watch him as he shifts in his seat, room dark and giving you no hints as to who he was.
"name's ghost." you scoff.
"i-," he stops and collects his thoughts, "i don' wanna hurt you."
you raise an eyebrow. "then what do you want?" he stays silent.
his silence irritates you, and you spur on. "what's the endgame here, ghost? because it's starting to get real fucking weird, i mean if you're gonna murder me eventually just get it over with because these little acts of kindness are driving me fucking insane."
his callsign coming from your lips sends a thrill through him, and he has to really concentrate to respond.
"...didn't really think about it. just know i want to keep you safe."
you balk at him. you had no idea why you thought he would spill his whole manifesto and confess his every thought to you.
"you know what you're doing is wrong right? being in my apartment, following me around? despite the good things you do for me?"
his entire body warms when you acknowledge the small things he's done for you, he revels in the fact that you know he's taking care of you.
"'spose so." a beat "then why are you doing it?"
he doesn't have an answer for you. "listen, ghost. you're going to meet me in person and you're going to have a lot more answers or else-" you find your voice wavering. "or else i will go to the police."
you don't give him time to respond, you simply end the call and or good measure unplug your computer, like it will somehow distance you from what happened.
you go to your bedroom, sitting on your bed heavily. you were shaking, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body.
you had just dug your grave deeper, in your childish and immature quest to understand you had just given your stalker an open invitation to come to you.
you were so fucked.
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Vice.
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Synopsis - Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.
Pairing - Luke Alvez x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. luke has a gorgeous filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 1.6k
Author's Note - my baby my baby my BAAAAAABY!! I have been in love with this man for years and years and I can't believe I haven't written more for him. if you ever have a luke request, please send it to me. love him with my whole heart <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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Vice - a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit. "Cigars happen to be my father's vice."
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"Italian food."
The entire team laughs, faces illuminated by the warm yellow lights in Rossi's backyard.
"Yeah, no shit," Tara retorts, looking pointedly at Dave. "Doesn't take a behavioural analyst to figure that one out."
"Look, you asked the question, I answered."
He reclines back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine, looking around the table.
"Okay Tara, you go. What's your vice?"
She chuckles to herself before confessing.
"Super steamy period romances."
Everyone bursts into more laughter.
"Wait, what?"
"What kind?"
She's clutching at her sides as she answers.
"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."
Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.
"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"
"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."
He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.
"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.
"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."
"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"
"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.
"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"
You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.
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"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.
"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."
He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.
"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."
You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.
"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."
He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.
"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."
He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.
"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."
He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.
"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"
He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.
"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."
His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.
"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."
"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.
"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."
Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.
"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."
You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.
"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"
The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.
"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."
You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.
"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.
"Yours is closer."
"Mine it is."
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"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"
JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.
"What you thinking about?"
"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."
You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.
"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.
"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."
Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.
"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."
The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.
"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.
Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
Relief.
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"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"
You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.
"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"
His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.
His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.
You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."
"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"
The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.
Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.
"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."
Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.
"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.
You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.
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"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"
You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.
"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.
You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.
"I'm your vice, aren't I?"
You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.
"In your dreams, Alvez."
He nips at your neck before continuing.
"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."
You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.
"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."
Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.
"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.
Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 5 months
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dbf!jake x innocent!reader (maybe who's still a virgin) and finding out he has a corruption kink i can't ...
i let this sit in my inbox untouched for so long because i couldn't decide whether or not i'm into it - but currently i'm experiencing something of a writer's block, soooo. i've decided to give it a try lmao
tw: dbf!jake has a corruption kink, reader is VERY innocent, it's not explicitly stated she's a virgin but it's very much implied, dom!jake, this is less smut and more talk actually but anyway, mentions of oral sex, also good girl
top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs
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You pull back from Jake with wide eyes, panting - embarrassingly so - and clutching at his shirt, angling yourself away. He's turned on, you can feel it, can feel him, pressing into you, pressing against his jeans. And you're wet, you're soaked, you can feel that, too.
It hadn't even been supposed to go this far. It had been a kiss, just one, all sweet and intimate while you'd watched tv. And then there had been a second one. And a third. And somehow, you'd ended up in his lap, pulling at his hair and whining into his mouth. But the moment you rock against him and feel his bulge... You have to pull back.
"There's no rush, darling", he mutters, trailing his fingertips down your cheek and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I won't do anything you don't-"
"What if I do?", you breathe, clenching your hands into his shirt to keep them from trembling. You don't even know just why they're trembling - maybe because you're so nervous, or maybe because you're so turned on.
"You do?", Jake asks with raised eyebrows. "Are you sure?"
You bite down on your lip and nod.
"Are you really sure?", he asks again. "Because if you're not-"
"Fuck me, Jake", you breathe, your cheeks heating up, your breath quickening. God, had you really just said that? Had you- Holy shit, you'd really just said that. You'd never said anything like that. Never. You'd barely even come close to thinking it.
Jake's eyes widen. Then his hands tighten around your waist, so hard that you gasp out a breath.
"What did you say?", he mutters, dragging his fingers down to your hips. You chew on your lip and stare at the air next to his head. Anywhere else but at him. Anywhere else but at his eyes. There's no way you can repeat yourself. No fucking way. You can hardly believe you said it in the first place.
"I asked you a question, darling", Jake repeats, and even though you try your best not to look at him, not to see that grin tugging at his lips, you can hear it in his voice. "What did you say?"
"I-", you start, stop, and then take a deep breath. No, there's no way. Absolutely no way.
"Come on, speak up", he urges, his hands trailing lower and lower until his fingers circle against the bare skin of your thigh. His thumbs draw below the hem of your dress, then away again. "I know you can."
You dig your teeth into your lip and let your eyes flutter shut, trying to forget absolutely everything at all - the way his fingers feel, how hard he is, how wet you are - to ignore that this is really and truly happening. Pretending it's your imagination makes it a tad easier. A lot easier, if you're completely honest.
"Fuck me, Jake", you whisper, your breath catching.
His fingertips trail up, up, up your thighs-
"And now look at me", he says, his voice so low he's basically growling, not an ask, not even close, but a command, an order. If this is how he sounds at work, barking instructions left and right... "Look at me while you're asking me to fuck you."
"Jake-", you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut even harder. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second. Fuck, his tone is sinful. And the way he's ordering you- But you just can't, you can't do it.
"Look at me", he repeats as he hooks his thumbs into your panties and tears another little gasp from your lips. Goddamn, you're so sweet. And there's something about your embarrassment, something about how you're unknowingly, unwillingly rocking your hips into his, something about how hard you're trying to not show your desperation, something about how at the very same time, you've already asked him to fuck you twice now.
You need him. It's obvious. And it's so fucking cute, it's adorable, how you both want and don't want to act on it. You're so unsure. And still-
Still, even despite all of your nervousness, you blink open your eyes and look at him, parted lips and flushed cheeks and all, your hands fisting his shirt. Because he's given you an order. And you follow his orders.
"Fuck me", you whisper, so quietly that he can just pick up on it.
His grin widens.
"Good girl", he rasps.
A moan tears from your tongue. Good girl. Holy shit. You'd only ever imagined hearing that, you'd never thought you'd actually get to. Which is why you never could have prepared for how hard it hits you - your legs clamping around his thighs, your eyes fluttering shut again, your hips bucking against his. Fuck.
Jake grunts as you rock so openly against him, his thumbs circling the bare skin below your panties, staggering into the inappropriate. It'd take him less than a moment to find out that you'd shaved this morning.
"Fuck me", you repeat, a little more confident now, and something about it steals his breath. "Please, Jake."
It takes eating you out and teaching you how to suck him off for him to understand just what about you affects him so much. He admits it in between desperate kisses a minute later - you deserve to know, to decide for yourself whether or not you've got a problem with it. You don't, of course, and he finds out a second later as you rock back against his hard-on and whine into his mouth. No, you certainly don't have a problem with it in the slightest.
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petew21-blog · 4 months
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Let's run some tests
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"Won't let her get away this time" I said to my new reflection
My girlfriend of two years decided to split up right before I was ready to propose to her. All that cause she was working as a veterinary nurse with this guy, Dr. Omar. She said she didn't cheat, but she said she fell in love like never before. I couldn't let her get away. She was the best woman I ever met. I had to do everything to get her back
Maybe it was luck, maybe a trickster god, but I do owe him. I woke up as Omar the next day that Alisha moved out. I was shocked, everyone would be.
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He was not a bad looking guy. But in my previous body I was a bit... how do I say this. Well, maybe slighty against some minorities. So even thought it was meant for me as a blessing, I was having a hard time at first, waking up with a different skin tone. So what a guy from Nebraska like me might not have a great mind set
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That changed when I discovered I could be grateful for the body I was now in. Slight hairs over the chest, veins popping out everywhere. Damn, chicks are gonna dig this. Especially Alisha. If my balding head and belly fat was the thing that made her not love me, than so be it. I am improved now.
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As I proceeded in my examination, revealing a very nice surprise in the boxers. A message from my ex-girlfriend popped on the screen. "Hey, wanna meet later. I am at the beach now, but I am up for dinner or sth."
"Hey, sure. The beach sounds better tho" I sent to her. She rewarded me with a photo in her swimming suit, revealing the beautiful body I already knew
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I took a photo of myself in a vest with a sthetoscope. Even if she won't like it I may keep the photo for myslef. The chicks love animals and they love doctor. Man, being an animal doctor must be like a lottery for them
Another message popped up on the screen. It was my old body. He wanted to meet up and talk about what happened. Great. Right on time
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I met him at the edge of the town. He was nervously stepping around the car. He then approached me, being scared what might happen to him in my body. I stayed confident. He can't hurt me now. I don't have to do anything. I threatened him, that if he was gonna say anything to anyone, I will find. Not that anyone would believe him. I was almost ready to leave, but then he stopped me
"If you won't fix this, I will reveal everything I did in my body that will ruin your career and drive Alisha away from you"
Fuck. Maybe he does have advantage after all. Or maybe not
"Ok, stay here, I'll go get my phone and we can discuss how to revert this. Ok?" he agreed with me and stayed at his car.
What he didn't expect was that I prepared a dart gun with anesthaethic and shot the dart at him. He screamed in pain, cursed at me, while I just laughed. He stumbled and fell on the ground, still trying to get up
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I got over him, enjoying how he was trying to fight the effects.
"Sorry, for that. I might have given you a higher dose. I gotta get used to being a doctor now haha. But before I do anything else to you know this. NO ONE! IS GONNA GET BETWEEN ME AND ALISHA! SHE IS MINE!!!"
The fear in his eyes remained even as his body's heart failed. Atleast he won't bother us anymore. Now, gotta fix everything before my date tonight with Alisha. I am lucky that I already know her and know what to say in advance. I am so excited!
Story submitted in inbox: Would you do a story with an man swapping bodies with the hunky doctor currently dating his ex girlfriend?
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ribbonprincess · 4 months
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hi love, please ignore if you don’t like this request! After seeing drew and Liliana I was thinking about nanny/ babysitter x drew in Charleston. I would prefer smut but ignore if your not comfortable with it 💕
note: this has been sitting in my inbox for sooo long,I'm so sorry I just couldn't find inspo for it. Also got lost in it and made it super long. Reader has a tongue piercing
🪐࿐ ࿔*:・゚
you're sitting with Drew on the patio outside the house,his sister Mackeyla went out with her husband for the day, so she left Liliana with you and Drew. You met through mutual friends that you both don't talk to anymore and since you like babies she asks to babysit Lili sometimes; so now you find yourself next to her brother who you may have a crush on.
"Keyla didn't tell me you were over today ya know, thought it was gonna be only me and Lili" "yeah...I thought the same actually" you chuckle,looking over at him as you eye each other with a knowing smile "she set us up!" It comes out at the same moment making you both laugh as the realization hits "I can't believe her" you shake your head at the thought,using your palm as a headrest. "well,guess we should make the most out of it then" Drew says, eyeing your sundress clad body,it was nothing crazy since you were looking after a 8 months old baby but it had incredibly hot in South Carolina so it was the best option if you didn't want to melt.
"Like what?" your eyebrows are furrowed as you smile softly at him "don't know...I would love getting to know you better,Keyla has said great things about you" "oh- did she? I hope so.." His body is slowly shifting closer to you,making the two-seater swing move slightly. "I like your perfume" he says,running a fingertip over the skin of your forearm "thank you" your answer comes out way breathier than you intend to but the feeling of his touch is way too affecting. His hand is slowly moving over your face,running over your shoulder and the curve of your neck where he stops for a second before he cups your cheek with a gentle smile.
"mind if I kiss you?" he whispers,already leaning in as you nod. His lips find yours as you lay a hand over his chest and the other on his shoulder "you taste like Cherries" he mumbles, grabbing your waist to manoeuvre you on his lap "I like it." Your hands are running all over his figure,over his buzzed head and then back down his biceps before they settle on holding on his neck. "I would love- to take you out on a date before this" he's pulling away from your mouth, making you almost whine before you're immediately shut by his lips finding their way over your neck "but I think I might go crazy if I don't feel you Immediately." His words are making you grin from ear to ear as they travel right down your core.
A pair of rough hands set the moves of your hips over the bulge in his jeans,making you moan as the material rubs just right against your cotton clad pussy. "gotta be quiet doll, we're outside and Lili is sleeping -she could wake up any moment" "shit,yeah yeah...I'll be quiet" you reply,knowing damn well it won't happen. One of Drew's hands moves southwards,running over your thigh before disappearing under your skirt immediately finding your mound. His index finger runs over the wet patch of your underwear before rubbing slow but firm circles over your clit "can I take these off, gorgeous?" His voice is soft,making you melt even more against his chest "hmhm.." "I need words,love" "yeah, please" He quickly presses a kiss to your temple muttering a "good girl" under his breath as he pushes your panties down your legs before pocketing them "gotta keep these for memory."
His words make you almost roll your eyes,but before you can even think about it one of his fingers is passing through your walls "there you go...'s fucking warm,hm" the way he's groaning against your collarbone makes you think he's the one getting pleasured. He quickly pushes another finger in finding a steady rhythm as they curl nicely against that sweet spongy spot. "god,you look gorgeous" He quickly undoes the bows holding the straps of your dress, revealing your chest to him "won't you look at these,fucking beautiful" he mumbles,wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as his fingers continue to move in and out of you deliciously.
"fuck-" your voice is muffled,biting into his neck probably leaving an imprint behind as he adds another finger in making you clench around him as you feel yourself getting closer. "you're making such sweet noises,princess. You're getting there hm? You can let go,I'm right here" His lips move away from your breasts, trailing over your neck before they slot themselves back on yours "you're doing so good,just need you to cum for me sweet girl" His words are sending you down a spiral as you grind into his palm,his thumb rubbing circles over the tiny bundle of nerves as your moans start get more louder "cumming" your body shake over him for a long second before you fall completely still over him "good girl...feel much better huh,gonna clean me up?" he smirks, rubbing his sticky fingers over your bottom lip.
Your tongue rolls out to wrap around the digits,tasting yourself as you clean him off "fuck- what's that? you got a piercing I don't know about?" he raises an eyebrow once he pulls his fingers out of your mouth "well,shit...you gonna show me what you can do with it-" Your figure is already moving off the swing and between his legs before a loud cry from inside reminds you of the baby "well,guess that's gotta wait" you smile,standing up on shaky legs as you enter the house,feeling Drew's eyes bore into your skill.
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strawberrysnoopy · 6 months
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ACT ONE: The Photoshoot, Part Three of Four
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prologue, part one, part two. warnings: tobacco, smoking, alcohol use, briefest mention of using alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of infidelity (as always), ada slander at times (sorry), texting for a while, leon's a bit of a perv,
author's note: btw I left the husband without a name so there's no overlap on you and your husband having the same name and you live in new york due to the modeling thing. I also try my hardest to keep the reader ambiguous because I realize that skinny, quirky, white girls aren't the only ones that read this series: if there's anything you'd like to recommend or change in the writing to be more reader-friendly, drop in my inbox and let me know! :) thank you guys so much for all the reblogs and 100 FOLLOWERS AHHH!! thank you thank you thank you!
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The warmth of your fingers working against his cool and paled skin had him melting like a runny ice cream cone in your hands. His hand was on your hip, rubbing loving circles like he was trying to commit the warm feel of your flesh into his memory. This was the type of life he envisioned when he was younger: married to someone he loved deeply with every crevice of his being. He thought Ada was the person for him, but that was such a costly and emotionally unbalanced guess. "Thank you, honey." You nod in response, applying the rest of the stitching to his busted lip. His hands dare to move a little higher on your hips, squeezing your waist and getting some sick pleasure out of the way your breath stopped in embarrassment. The scene was perfect, just a good ol’ friend taking care of her busted up pal. Leon hated that he couldn’t find you earlier, sooner, before he could even lay eyes on Ada Wong. She had her charms, sure, but there was something about the soft lull of your presence, how gentle you were, how caring you could be with others that had his heart fluttering in his chest. He still can't believe out of all the places he could've met you, it was at a store while you were buying a bottle of wine for yourself and your husband. "Met" would have to be an overrated word in his dictionary. The truth was that Leon had first laid eyes upon you in a magazine. They had released their February shoot that show-cased entrepreneurial photographers on the rise, climbing their way to the top without a care in the world who they scratched on their way there. You happened to be the diamond in the rough, making everyone else's cliche photographs of "lust" or "revenge" or "innocence" themes seem drab. Your theme? Limerence. Beautiful, simmering, and chilling limerence. Your hair was pieced together lazily but curled neatly, wearing simple yet cryptic tops and little boy shorts that lovingly cradled your ass. The rookie photographer that snapped your photos had done a stellar job at making it seem like you were one of those once in a lifetime girls you met in college. He still had the magazine of course, stashed away in the depths of his closet: kept in pristine condition like a filthy little secret he loved to indulge in. "So..." He muses. He feels the little pause in your work, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "How long have you known? About your husband's infidelity?" You've always known. The first? A college girl in the first year of your "official" relationship Bubbly and vibrant and a fucking joy to be around. The kind of girl you see on ABC's 20/20 or some other type of true crime prime-time film. Your husband claimed it was a drunk hook-up. And the first time, you believed him. The second? A school teacher that looked, acted, and talked exactly like you. Maybe she was your long lost twin or some weird rip in the fabric of time and she happened to pop out. He claimed he was mad at you for the way you did laundry. You forgave him a second time, but you'd surely have a knife to his throat the third time.
"A while. It's just like some weird fact I live with, I guess. Like you have some chronic disease and it's something you deal with from time to time." He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. He knows you don't deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Yet, he always wondered why you stayed. Your husband was an asshole, although that shouldn't be a term that leaves his lips due to the fact he's supposedly your husband's best bud, but for the sake of doing the holy honor of defending you: he was a cheating dick that didn't deserve to be maritally bound to a woman such as yourself. "Wouldn't you get a divorce? I don't mean to be like...rude or anything but I would've thought that you're the type of woman to leave his ass once he cheats." And you were. Headstrong, confident, and self-assured—he's never seen an insecure model before, or maybe that's some weird stereotype he's made in his head unconsciously. "It's a tough situation." And that's all you have to say about your marriage. He nodded, understanding your reluctance to speak on the subject. He can't say he's any different from you either considering his marriage to Ada, the very reason he can't be with you. Especially so intimately. It’s hard. The safety of it all. Having someone next to you at all times despite the shitty relationship. He knew.
Now the bathroom is silent. You’re still doctoring up his wounds while he sits up on the marble counter-top. He really wants to say something until you step in for him.
“I can’t believe you fucked my husband up like that.” You say, pulling your hands away from his face to find some more antibiotic cream. He hates that he feels his head moving forward to get your hands back on him. Pathetic. He feels pathetic, especially considering he beat the dog shit out of your husband when you graciously invited him into your home.
“I’m sorry—“ He begins, you stop him once more.
“No. Don’t apologize. I was thanking you.” He nods again, finding the motion of moving his head back and forth too repetitive. “So, thank you.”
He boldly takes your hand in his own, squeezing it and kissing the palm—feeling like he’s turning into a crazy man when your fingertips brush against his lower eyelids and cheeks.
“You’re welcome.” He releases your hand from his own, feeling guilty for not saying more to you. He feels as if you deserve more than silence, and to be honest, with everything you've gone through this week, you definitely do. "I know I said it already but I'm sorry for saying that I wanted to—" He pauses, not wanting to be so crude with his wording but throwing caution to the wind as he had already fucked everything up so far. "Said that I wanted to fuck you, that's not fair to you nor your husband."
"It's okay if you do." His heart pulses in his chest at those words. He had expected you to ignore it, maybe slap him if you were really pissed. But you agreed? What the fuck, it's like he's living in a fucking alternate universe. "It's not a crime to find someone else attractive. The only thing wrong is if you act on it." That was true, but it never took from how much he dreamed about you. The times he's jerked himself off while thinking of your gorgeous body on his mind had grown to a disgusting amount. Hell, it's gotten to a point where he doesn't even fight it anymore and Ada being in the house used to stop him, but not anymore. He'll just go up to the bathroom and rub one out with your magazine in hand. "Then I guess I'm attracted to you." Your cheeks flush red at the admission, flaring a brighter color when his hand grips your hip once more. And tighter, too. Jesus Christ, the way this whole situation had been playing out like a steamy porno. First, your husband was gone in the hospital. Second, Leon was brought into your home. Alone. Third, he admitted he wants to fuck you. No, he has to resist. You were right. It's not wrong to be attracted to someone other than your spouse but you had him wanting to act. Wanting to drag you down to the marital bed you share with your husband and fuck you senseless. "So, do you want to stay the night tonight? Considering your car is broken down and everything." You ask, your tone beautiful and raspy like it always is.
Oh, God. He's gonna fuck you.
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tags:@heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat, @ressespearlz, @xqlenkdy, @g0rep1ty, @nomorekerkanymor,
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queerxqueen · 10 months
Note
"I just want to clarify that I’m well informed on the situation that is going on but Byler has only one chance of happening. Meanwhile Palestinians are dying anyway. They have been for years and will continue to die. Since when do y’all care about them and their lives? You started talking about it only when it became trendy.
Fake activists, move on and continue eating expensive food in your comfy house and not giving a fuck about people far away from you dying. That shit happens everyday and if you get involved your psyche will be hurt. Let the politicians deal with this instead of bullying a random actor that didn’t do anything harmful"
browsing through the noah schnapp tag to see what he did now and seeing these words was a literal slap in the face how can someone post this and think theyre a good person???
(When I first read this, I thought you were saying that shit in my inbox and was ready to throw hands, so I was very relieved to see you were just sharing the bullshit from someone else's blog.)
I just searched in the tag and saw this exact post. How fucking horrifying. Instant block. I doubt anyone could reason with this person.
"Palestinians are dying anyway. They have been for years and will continue to die." Can't believe anyone typed this genuinely and without pause. Just say you don't care about Palestinian lives and stop there, you'll get your point across better.
"Since when do y’all care about them and their lives? You started talking about it only when it became trendy." Many people are only just now beginning to really educate themselves on the history of Israel and Palestine. I'm among them - I used to be one of the folks who thought it was too complicated and nuanced to take a stance on. Then I read Palestine: A Socialist Introduction, started reading from news sources and independent journalists outside of mainstream western media, started listening to Palestinian and anti-zionist Jewish voices, and realized how false that was. I take responsibility for not educating myself sooner. But it's actually weird to frame people educating themselves and having empathy for people dying as jumping on a trend.
"Let the politicians deal with this..." Ah, yes, let's leave it to the politicians, who notoriously have our best interests in mind and would never do anything to cause harm. (/sarcasm) "... instead of bullying a random actor that didn’t do anything harmful." If you think sharing violent zionist rhetoric such as "you stand with Israel or you stand with terrorism" or trivializing the deaths of eleven thousand Palestinians with stupid stickers calling zionism sexy, in front of your audience of millions as a celebrity, is "not harmful" then we clearly are not going to agree on anything.
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genericpuff · 8 months
Note
Why is the art so unappealing in lore Olympus now Persephone looks like a highlighter and maybe it’s just me but the proportions like the fingers in arms are soul over the place I don’t think they used to be this bad. Am I just looking at it with nostalgia or am I crazy ?
Honestly, nostalgia does play a huge part in it, even to this day there are times I look back on old S1 panels and go-
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Actually here's a great example that literally just happened yesterday in the ULO Discord that nearly had me on the floor LOL This is from Episode 70:
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Like I didn't even believe that that was real until I was told what episode it was from and I was just. Astounded and flabbergasted. The over-shading of the blanket that just makes it look like a really bad edit. Insane.
And yeah, there are a lot of old panels that hit different now that the rose-colored glasses have been removed, crushed, and thrown into the trash compactor.
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I think that's why it makes it all the more amusing when people come into my inbox and ask me "wait, why did you like LO to begin with?? It's always been ugly as shit, I think you're just romanticizing it" because like... there's something to be said about art and subjectivity, even if something is ugly to one person doesn't mean it isn't beautiful to someone else. It's why I try not to be too mean towards the fans of this comic for still enjoying it, because while I definitely have strong opinions about how "LO has gotten worse" and what kind of following Rachel has cultivated (cough cough), there are also just as equally valid arguments that LO has never begin good to begin with that I can't necessarily disagree with now that I'm looking back on it with a more critical eye.
That said, there's tons of media that I enjoy that is objectively awful. Like y'all, you don't need to take my opinions about a dumb pink x blue fantasy romance comic seriously, I like Starfox Adventures-
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Like yeah it's a badly made rushed piece of shit that was developed right on the ass end of Rare's glory days and was really an original IP (Dinosaur Planet) that got Frankenstein'd into a Starfox game so it could "sell better" for Nintendo, but I don't give a fuck, I love Starfox Adventures and some day I wanna be in the top 10 speedrunner leaderboards for it, which I know doesn't mean much because no one is speedrunning Starfox, but I do and no one can take that away from me dammit-
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Anyways. Lore Olympus has, in many regards, always had "bad art". But "bad art" can and should still be enjoyed by those who find joy in it.
And in LO's case, the world it existed in when it launched was a lot smaller than it is now - more specifically, the world of Webtoons. We can look back and see how 'bad' LO looks and reads now because there are genuinely way better comics surrounding it. It was unique and refreshing and experimental back then... now it's just "that stupid blue and pink comic for horny teenagers".
In most cases I would consider that "cringing in hindsight" feeling a good thing because normally it means something has grown and that it seeming "bad" in hindsight would mean that it's outgrown itself and moved onto bigger things. But LO has the more unique problem of "its current stuff is shit and it's making us want the old stuff more, even if the old stuff wasn't good either". In that regard, LO is closer to being like Harry Potter. Remember when The Cursed Child came out at the height of Rowling being exposed for being a TERF and even people who liked Harry Potter didn't like The Cursed Child because it was just objectively worse overall (with or without Rowling's bullshit attached)? It made a lot of people go back and re-read / rewatch Harry Potter with a more objective lens and go "wait a minute guys, I think we only adored these books so much because we were 12 when we read them". Often times it's the good memories we have surrounding certain things that make us have the opinion about them that we do.
Of course, LO is definitely not as politically weaponized as Harry Potter is, so that's where that comparison ends. But my point is that LO is definitely in a situation where it's been riding off the same privileges it had back in 2018 - having an 'experimental' art style while also utilizing tropes and characters that were VERY popular at the time (remember that 2017-18 was when Tumblr was at its height of H x P "Hades was a chill accountant guy who wore socks and sandals and didn't cheat on his wife like Zeus did" fantasizing) - and thinks that those same tricks and tropes will still work today.
Because of this, the art in LO really, really hasn't aged well, even the stuff that we look back on fondly. But I think it's the panels that we specifically think of when remembering "old LO" - the ones that stuck in our memories the most - that are the ones that make us miss or just not care about the panels that don't look good (the panels that make people question why we ever liked it to begin with).
We liked it because of how it made us feel to look at panels like these-
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Those genuinely wonderful panels that we think back on the most don't exist separately from the bad panels, they exist in spite of them. Even if we can look back on panels like these and pick out problems in the lineart or the proportions or the color travelling outside of the lines, that can't and shouldn't change how those panels made us feel at some point or another. And that's why when people ask me "why were you even into LO in the first place" I don't have any one answer, because I can't fully explain how something made me feel to justify why it's good to someone who can see from the outside - without rose-colored glasses - that it evidently isn't. It's very much a "you had to be there" type of thing.
Unfortunately, nowadays even the 'best' LO panels in S3 still don't come close to what the S1 panels accomplished - because for many of us, the rose-colored glasses are gone, we can't appreciate the good among the bad because we know now how bad it truly is and so the good just feels like wasted attempts at trying to recreate something it can no longer be. It "came back wrong" so to speak.
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LO came back just regular. But our journey to resurrecting it changed us to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to us. Sorry dude.
This is still probably one of my favorite panels out of the entirety of S3 for being as close to "old LO" as I've seen since S2, and even it feels like a mistake, an accident, how could a panel like this exist in S3 when so much of it is a dumpster fire? It's like a flower growing in the ruins of an apocalyptic wasteland.
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But wasn't that always the case? Isn't that 'always' what LO has been, since the very beginning? A poorly cobbled together mess of writing and panels that, every now and then, manages to leave an impression that makes you feel something? Did we ever truly know LO? Or have we just been relying entirely on an idea of it that we've built up in our heads that when it does do exactly what it's evidently always done (even if not made apparent until looking back on it in hindsight) we think it "came back wrong"?
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pablitogavii · 9 months
Text
Best friends little sister Pt. 3
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Pablo got the picture in his inbox the same morning. His heart jumped as he read Vinicius' instructions while I was peacefully sleeping on his arm. I told Pedri I will sleep over at Masa's and stayed with Pablo after the game to properly celebrate the win.
The picture
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"Fuck!" he said and I slowly woken up brushing the sleep from my eyes smiling at Pablo's face above mine. I moved in starting to kiss his neck but when he pulled away I looked at him in confusion.
"You have to go! Um..I have a physical today" he says and I was completely lost since last night he promised me the whole day in bed? Did he really forget about the physical???
"But it's Sunday Pablito???" you remind him but he said they scheduled him earlier and he needs to be ready quickly. With barely a peck did he leave the bed as I got ready and left back home..not knowing that will be the last kiss in awhile I will share with Pablo.
Pablo knew that if he as far as looked at you, the picture will leak and ruin everything..any chance of being with me in peace...his friendship with Pedri..and my relationship with your brother. He needed to push me away no matter how badly he craved being by my side..it was for the better for all!
For the next five days I tried reaching out to Pablo without success. If I texted him, he didn't reply. If I called it went straight to voice mail. Today I decided to go to training and catch him before he left the dressing room..I was desperate and worried why he was suddenly so cold towards me???
"Um Gavi..can I ask you something???" I saw him leaving with Frankie in shock to see me standing by the dressing room in my school uniform. He followed after me looking back worried that Pedri might see something. We went into the conference room and he put down the blinds.
"What are you doing here!? And during school hours!? Are you crazy!?" he said but I didn't even listen to a single word rushing and kissing him feverishly..it's what I needed for all these days!
Although kissing me back, he was quick to pull away and walk backwards away from me..I needed to know what was going on with him???
"God you're so needy!!! Can't you understand I'm done with you!!!???" Pablo yelled but it didn't matter what he said, I refused to believe that is the truth..it couldn't be because it was so sudden and with no explanation!!!
"P..Pablo..what happened? what did I do??" you say tears filling into your eyes as you tried getting closer but he once again stepped back..like he was running away from you.
"You're a kid and I satisfied my craving, vale! Now just leave me alone" he said and your heart shattered..you left home in tears and haven't stopped crying for the next two weeks.
Meanwhile Pablo never played worse in his life..missing the passes..not scoring since the last El Classico and arguing with everyone all the time. He felt defeated and angry first at himself for not telling Pedri on time which would make it imposible for Vini to threaten him like this. He messed it all up!
"Y/n is really going through something..wanna throw her a beach party tonight??" Pedri said and at the mention of my name Pablo looked up suddenly being interested. It was his fault you were "going through something" so the lest he can do is help. They invited everyone.
At home, you were working on an english project.,
"And they wanted to run away together because of forbidden love.." Jacobo talked but I was somewhere else wondering how could I be so stupid to believe only my heart..my head always told me it was wrong and I should have listened!!!
"Please like they really love each other!" you snarl at the boy who held a book and looked at you with raised eyebrows. Great! Now he thinks I'm some anti love lunatic! Well done!!!
"Sorry..I just think they don't even know each other that well to be able to love each other" I tried to explain but Jacobo was already in my face with his lips on mine kissing me deeply. What the fuck!??? I pulled away wiping my lips.
"What are you doing???" I say and he apologized starting to pack his books. I then sighed telling him it was alright to talk about it like adults.
"I'm so sorry..I just like you and being so close lately.." he said but I never thought about it like that. Yeah, we spend time together at school and were partners for this English project but it was nowhere near kissing one another.
"I'm just.." I start but then didn't even know what to answer next..I'm nothing..Pablo used me..that was all!!!
"with someone else?" Jacob asked
"yes..NO!..um I'm just not up for it" I say mumbling and he smiled nodding his head and taking mine. He kissed it gently before getting up and ready to leave.
"I understand..but I'll fight for you..that you should know" he said and I blushed while walking him to the front door. Pedri watched me from the kitchen smiling excited to see your reaction tonight at the party.
It felt good knowing someone else wants to fight for me..so why the hell were tears spilling down my cheeks again!? Will I forever belong to Pablo Gavi!!!???
"Hermanita!!!" Pedri called a few hours later and I groaned walking down just to have him put a blindfold onto my eyes.
"You know if you weren't my brother, this would constitute as kidnapping, right Pepi???" I say giggling and he told me to stay quiet while driving me to the beach. Drive wasn't long but i was very impatient so I kept bothering him.
"Alright, alright we're here! Stop whining finally!" he said walking me and I could smell the ocean already and my feet felt the warm sand..I smiled.
"Are we at the beach???" I ask and he slowly took off the blindfold as everyone yelled "SURPRISE!" and I jumped holding my hands on my mouth. I couldn't believe he did all this for me..I really had a special brother!!!
Everyone was there around the large bonfire..Rapha brought smores and Balde played music on his speaker...Frankie turned on the grill..Ansu, Araujo and others played ball in the sand..and everyone was happy. Well, almost everyone was here..Pablo was nowhere to be found..I was happy about that but then light shined from the parking before he emerged from the shadow and my blood froze.
Our eyes met and I couldn't handle it..tears returned to my eyes and I just had to run away and get some air..it was a first ever panic attack I've experienced and the whole world felt like closing in on me.
I was sitting on the rock shaking until two arms held me and I looked into my brother's concerned eyes. He put his jacket over me holding me there in silence as I cried..why did he have to hurt me!? why me!? i never wanted anything but to love and be loved..and now i feel like a used up toy..
"Hey, whatever it is hermanita..you can tell your Pepi, bueno? I know it's kind of like I'm your parent here but I'm also just your brother..i never snitched on your to mom and dad, vale?" he spoke and I wanted to spill it all..the whole truth..and beg him to forgive me..to not hurt Pablo..but I didn't have the heart to hurt him..and even though I hate to admit, I didn't want to hurt Pablo either.
"I like someone..but I rejected him today" you lie feeling sick to your stomach that after everything he'd done, you were still lying to Pedri's face.
"You were scared?" he asked and I nodded..what else were I meant to do? one lie after another..it felt eternal at that point.
"Just call him..he's a fool if he doesn't want you" he said and I smile nodding and taking the phone he gave me..Pablo Gavi..you're one big fool!!!! I dialed Jacobo's number..
Pedri returned and Gavi after chugging onto another beer out of desperation asked about me..he wanted to follow after me..to hold me against himself and tell me he lied..that he loves me..so much it drives him crazy..but he knew he couldn't..not with Pedri already leaving.
"It's about the boy like always with girls.." he said and Pablo clenched his jaw..he was ready for his best friend to punch him into oblivion after I told him about everything but punch never came.
"She left with Jacobo, let's drink" when those words left Pedri's lips Gavi's whole body contracted and he watched you hop onto another boys motorcycle and drive off..he clenched his grip on the bottle and it broke leaving his hand bloody.
That night after Jacobo brought me home after nice dinner and kissed me tonight, I regretted it all..lying to Pedri again..getting into a relationship I don't want..and ever giving Pablo Gavi a chance. I fell asleep with tears once again.
A stumbling sound didn't wake me up but cold kisses on my shoulder and neck did and I really was about to scream but a hand was covering my mouth. I turned around and saw Pablo there clearly too wasted to know what he was doing.
"What are you doing here!!? Please leave!??" I tried getting up but he was too strong and had me pinned down on the bed with heavy breathing.
"Please..just one more time..we won't do anything..I just want to hold you one more time.." he was slurring his words and my heart was racing..he was clearly still feeling the same thing I did. But i had a boyfriend now..it was even more wrong then before!!
"i have.." but he didn't let me finish that sentence..he couldn't bare it in that moment and I knew it as his eyes were filling with tears.
"please cielo.." he whispered and I sighed feeling a lump in my throat from that nickname pulling his arm and making him cuddle me tightly as we both fell asleep..suddenly nothing else felt wrong.
Pablo woke up first..he had a horrendous headache but smiled looking down at me in his arms sleeping peacefully. I looked like an angel with my hair scattered down his arm holding onto him while his hand rested on my butt. It was perfect..and if he could hide from Pedri then he could hide from Vini as well!
Just as he was about to kiss me good morning did my phone ring and I jumped looking at my new boyfriend's name shining on the screen. I heard Pablo groaning and throwing his head back in annoyance.
"You should go and..Pablo don't ever do this again!"I said about to answer but he took my phone hanging up instead.
"You let me stay because you wanted it too! I know you're still mine pequeñita.." he said about to pull me close but I was done with his games. He hurt my feelings and made me feel like his toy only to act like it didn't happen..well that won't happen!!!
"I let you stay because you were wasted and wouldn't let go off my waist! I'm done crying over you so just get out!" I were as cold as he was seeing something in his eyes sparkle and it had a red ting..he was angry. The doorbell rang and we both went downstairs.
It couldn't be Pedri since he was at training that Pablo clearly decided to ditch..so it could only be Jacobo..shit!
"Hey beba I brought you coffee..oh hi Pablo, I'm a huge fan" he said and there went Pablo's confidence as he smirked looking at your annoyed face. Pablo took the coffee from the boys hands and you stood there in disbelief..what an asshole!
"She hates coffee in the morning cause it makes her stomach upset..see you around pequeñita" he smirks winking and you fought an urge to throw a rock at his big head right now! Although he was right..Pablo did know you so much better than Jacobo..
We went to school and there was Masa waiting for an explanation..Jacobo kissed me and left and I told her everything she missed since being away.
jacobo_bru
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Beba @y.n.gonzalez
comentarios:
pedritoofan: he's her boyfriend!!?😨
gaviigirlss: she doesn't look happy like she did in pics with gavi :((
y.n.fangirlies: right!!? that's what I thought!!?
masa.babyy: my best girl❤️
pedri: ❤️
pedri.gavi.girl: nooo she's not happy with him pedriii!!
gonzalezfam: she didn't even comment!!?🤔
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daenysx · 1 year
Text
i hope you like this! my inbox is always open if you'd like to share something with me!!
era: prison
title is from cigarettes after sex' song 'apocalypse'.
my masterlist
your lips, my lips
daryl dixon loves the aftercare and spending his nights with the love of his life.
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you'd never believe you could have such a lovely night during an apocalypse.
daryl is here with you, brushes his lips on your bare shoulder. faint kisses and soft words, telling you how good you are. scars on his bare chest can only be seen in light but even in the darkness of the night, you carved their places on your mind. you lean into him, your archer's broad chest.
he loves how you kiss his scars after your endless sessions of fucking each other. he knows it's such a crude word to describe what you do, you'd probably call it something like having sex. he doesn't care about words, he only cares about what you've done almost each night.
it's the aftercare he loves the most. he tries to stay awake but having sex with you helps him with his restless sleep. he can close his eyes, let himself have a deep and peaceful rest, holding you close to his chest, giving his warmth to your cold body. he knows how you feel the same, sleeping with him in the same bed, wrapped around each other naked, staying awake when you're both finished to give each other affection.
daryl rubs your sore muscles in his big hands gently, his hands cover your thighs and hips. your shoulders and neck are next until your body melts against him. sometimes you wish you could have a long bath with him, staying in warm water and falling asleep, bubbles and clean scents everywhere. that's not possible for now but maybe- just maybe. even the dream of it is so beautiful.
after a few minutes of calming down, you put your face on his chest and wrap your legs around his body in bed. he continues rubbing your back and stroking your hair. when he brushes a little kiss on your hair, you lift your head and look at him through blurry eyes.
"sleepy?" he asks, almost whispering.
"mm-hmm." you nod, lying on top of him, totally content with your current place.
a sudden tear from your big, pretty eyes scares him when he's about to fall asleep with you.
"wha' happened sunshine?"
you dry your cheek and smile at him.
"nothing. i was- just thinking about- you know, all the things we could have if it weren't for the apocalypse."
he understands but a part of him always thinks that you would never fall for each other if the apocalypse had never happened. you are from different lives and daryl dixon doesn't believe in fate.
"i could be lying here for hours," you continue. "just staying in bed after my man made me see the stars. never leaving here, never leaving your side."
daryl can't help a wave of pride rushing over him. he kisses your hair again as he listens your sleepy mumblings.
"we'd never be like this then sweetheart. ya know tha'."
"hmm, but i don't wanna believe that."
he chuckles. "fine. be a stubborn girl then, don' believe in tha'."
you kiss his chest, right under a fresh scar. "you make the apocalypse bearable."
he shakes his head slowly. "nah, that's you. you are perfect, sunshine. my perfect."
he'll hold you there until the sun rises. he'll kiss you anywhere he wants, anywhere you want him to. he'll whisper sweet promises about how he'll protect you with his life. he'll tell you how lovely you look with a shy voice.
people may think that daryl dixon is incapable of showing love.
well, people are fucking wrong.
in your shared cell, he makes this life worth living. every night, he gives you another reason to keep going. every night, he tells you the loveliest things to put a smile on your face.
the nights become the story of you finding the love of your life during an apocalypse.
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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year
Text
ABBA Marathon
masterlist
pairing: father sirius black x daughter reader
warnings: like one curse word, tooth rotting fluff, sirius being an icon, literally just a very fun read that i hope has you smiling in your bed
summary: you meet sirius, play chess with sirius, and have an abba singing and dance party with sirius (sirius meeting his daughter post azkaban - requested by anon)
a/n: im so obsessed with this idk i wish sirius was my dad, also sorry this has been in my inbox for so long
song: waterloo - abba
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Being Sirius Black's daughter was quite tiring. But also thrilling. Especially since it was your third year when he escaped Azkaban.
Your best friends are Harry, Hermione, and Ron. You couldn't have asked for better ones.
With the rumors of Sirius coming after you and Harry, people had been cold towards you because of your father, not that you could control who your father was.
Right now you were outside, taking a walk in some fresh air. Suddenly a dog comes up to you and barks once. "Why, hello there," you coo and bend down. The dog happily wags his tail and jumps onto her. "Aww, you're so cute!" 
You pet the dog, who leans into your hand. "You are very skinny," you frowned. "Follow me, I'm sure Hagrid has some food I can give you." 
As you two head down, you get near the Whomping Willow. As you pass by, the dog suddenly spins and before you could blink the dog was biting your pants, tugging you to the tree. 
"Um, excuse me, Mr. Dog, but these are new pants." You then get very close to the tree, "Er- I don't think this is a good idea," you say nervously as the branches of the tree start to move. 
The dog looks up in alert and quickly tugs you into some type of hole that they slid down into. "Ah!" The dog jumps up and pulls on your pants again. "Where are we going?"
Finally, you come into an empty abandoned room. "What is this place..."
You walk over and pick up a dusted book, blowing on the cover before putting it back down. You turn around and her eyes go wider than they've ever been. "AHH!" you scream.
"AHH!" 
"AHH!"
"SHH!"  
You cover your mouth and stare at the one and only Sirius Black.
Your father.
"What the fuck," you whisper to yourself. "Oh my Merlin, I'm too young to die! I- I haven't gotten to slap Malfoy yet, I haven't been able to prank Snape! I ha-"
"Prank Snape?" Sirius pipes up. 
"I'm going to die. Oh, Godric," you pace while frantically whispering to yourself. "I'm in the same room with Sirius Black, alone."
He frowns at being called by his name instead of Dad, which it should be.
"Relax, love, I'm not going to kill you."
You spin and face the man, "You're not?"
"No."
"Then why am I here? For giggles and a tea party?"
"One, you're about to find out. Two, I don't like tea," Sirius makes a face. 
"Huh, me neither. Now, go on, tell me why I'm in an abandoned room with an escaped convicted murderer," you cross your arms. 
"I'm not a murderer. I'm innocent, I swear."
You narrow her eyes, "How so?"
"Well, it started when I first got to Hogwarts..."
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You wipe the tears from under your eyes, "That is the saddest thing I have ever heard."
Sirius waves his hand, "Now that you know what happened, you believe me right?"
"Of course!" You throw her arms around the man, who relaxes into his daughters hold. It's been a long time since he has had human contact.
"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you can't tell anyone about me just yet."
"Why?! If I tell them you're inno-"
He smiles sadly, "I'm not so sure they would believe you."
"But-" Sirius shakes his head. You sigh, "Well, are you going to be staying here?"
He nods, "I guess. It's a bit dirty though, if you ask me."
"I can fix that," you grin. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity. You takes out your wand and flick it. The room starts moving and the dust all collects together before flying out the window. The furniture vanishes and new ones appear. Pictures form on the wall and the room cleans up into a brand new, clean room.
"Wow, impressive. Thank you," Sirius says. You nod and flick your wrist again. In the blink of an eye, Sirius is freshly cleaned and looks well taken care of. His eyes almost water at your kindness. "I truly can't thank you enough."
"That's better, isn't it?" You smile proudly at your work. "Oh! You need food," you think for a moment, "I'll just bring you down daily meals."
"I can't ask you to do that, it's too much."
"It's a good thing you don't have to ask. You mentioned your friend... Remus Lupin." Sirius nods and gestures for you to continue, "He's a Professor this year... anyway, is he a..."
"A...?"
"Werewolf," you say hesitantly. 
Sirius' face goes a bit pale, "What makes you think that?"
"His boggart was a moon, and he has lots of light scars."
"Would it change your opinions about him?"
"Not at all! If anything I think it makes him even better." Sirius nods his head. "Yes... he's a werewolf?" 
He nods again, "You're a bright witch."
"Thank you," you beam. You looks at your watch, "I have about twenty minutes before my friends start looking for me. In the meantime.... Wizard's Chess?"
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"Yes! Checkmate!" You jump up from your seat in excitement. "I won!"
"That's not fair! You only won because I'm rusty," Sirius crosses his arms and sinks into the couch. 
"Sure, sure. Rematch tomorrow?" you ask. 
"Rematch tomorrow," you two shake hands and you go to the exit. 
"I'll bring you some food in a little while."
"Bye, darling," he waves, watching you leave. 
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A few weeks later, you were on your daily trip to see Sirius. You snuck in through the Whomping Willow, you also learned how to avoid the branches. 
"Hello?!" you shout. 
"Over here!"
You follow his voice and see him digging through a closet. "What are you looking for?"
"I- that's... a good question." He stands up and clears his throat, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"It has come to my attention that you recently made an appearance in the castle."
"Mhm."
"And you didn't inform me about it beforehand," you gives him a blank stare.
"I wanted to, but it took a while to plan and I wanted it to be a surprise," he grins with jazz hands.
"You do realize that I could have helped you in, right?"
"Yeah, but I didn't want to risk you getting in trouble," he frowns. 
"I appreciate your concern," you salute him and he does it back with a chuckle.
"What's in the bag?" He nods to the one hanging on your arm. 
"This, my furry father-"
"That was a horrible joke."
"-Is a record player!" You excitedly pull it out of the bag and place it on a table. 
"A what?"
"A record player. It plays music. Want to see?!"
"As if I would say no to music."
You reach into the bag and take out some vinyl records. "I picked ones that I think you would enjoy best. There is a supergroup that I thought you would really like. They're called ABBA. They're one of my favorites." 
You set up the record player and place one of the vinyls in. You grin at the man as you hit the play button.
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"YOU CAN DANCE, YOU CAN JIVE! HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE! SEE THAT GIRL, WATCH THAT SCENE! DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN!"
You and Sirius continue to shout the lyrics into your fake microphones as you hop around the room with the song blasting. When the room was first set up by you, you placed several privacy and silencing spells, so you two didn't have to worry about anyone hearing anything.
"YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN! YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY SEVENTEEN-"
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"GIMME, GIMME, GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT! WON'T SOMEBODY HELP ME CHASE THE SHADOWS AWAY?" you sing while bouncing on the couch. 
"GIMME, GIMME, GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT! TAKE ME THROUGH THE DARKNESS TO THE BREAK OF THE DAY!" Sirius continues as he walks and dances as if he were on a stage. 
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"MAMMA MIA, HERE I GO AGAIN! MY, MY, HOW CAN I RESIST YOU?"
"MAMMA MIA, DOES IT SHOW AGAIN! MY, MY, JUST HOW MUCH I'VE MISSED YOU?" 
Sirius and you hold hands as you jump together and flip your hair with matching goofy grins. 
"YES, I'VE BEEN BROKENHEARTED! BLUE SINCE THE DAY WE PARTED!"
"WHY, WHY DID I EVER LET YOU GO?"
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"BUT NOW IT ISN'T TRUE! NOW EVERYTHING IS NEW!" you grab your wand to create two pairs of light up sunglasses, you toss one to Sirius and you both put them on.
"AND ALL I'VE LEARNED HAS OVERTURNED! I BEG OF YOUUU!" Sirius sings. 
"DON'T GO WASTING YOUR EMOTION! LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON MEEEE!" you shout together. 
With a flick of your wrist, you - much to Sirius' surprise - somehow managed to have a disco ball with neon lights come from the ceiling. 
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Harry, Ron, and Hermione sit in the Gryffindor common room. 
"I wonder what she's doing right now," Harry looks thoughtfully.
"She's been leaving a lot recently," comments Hermione, biting nervously on her nail.
"I hope she's okay," says Ron, "Sirius Black could be out there."
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"LAST NIGHT I WAS TAKING A WALK ALONG THE RIVER, AND I SAW HIM TOGETHER WITH A YOUNG GIRL!"
"AND THE LOOK THAT HE GAVE HER MADE ME SHIVER! 'CAUSE HE ALWAYS USE TO LOOK AT ME THAT WAY!" Sirius grabs your hand and twirls you, causing you to laugh. 
"AND I THOUGHT, MAYBE I SHOULD WALK RIGHT UP TO HER AND SAY 'AH-HA-HA, IT'S A GAME HE LIKES TO PLAYYY!" you and Sirius shimmy dance to each other. 
You jump and freeze before breaking out in another dance and sing the chorus. "LOOK INTO HIS ANGELEYES, ONE LOOK AND YOU'RE HYPNOTISED! HE'LL TAKE YOUR HEART AND YOU MUST PAY THE PRICE!"
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"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"
"I TRY TO CAPTURE EVERY MINUTE!"
"THE FEELING IN IT, SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"
"DO I REALLY SEE WHAT'S IN HER MIND, EACH TIME I'M CLOSE TO KNOWING, SHE KEEPS ON GROWING!"
"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"
"SOMETIMES I WISH THAT I COULD FREEZE THE PICTURE!"
"AND SAVE IT FROM THE FUNNY TRICKS OF TIME!"
Sirius and you wrap an arm around each other's waist as they sway to the music. 
"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERSSSSS!"
Sirius then starts pretending like he's playing the guitar to the music making your giggle. 
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You and Sirius fall back, panting, onto the couch. Sirius turns to you and gives you a high five. 
"Oh my Merlin! That was the most fun I had in forever!"
"Me too, kid. Thank you. I don't know the last time I felt like that."
"You're welcome," you bumps his shoulder. "Oh! And you can keep everything, I have my own."
"Really?"
"Mhm, I'll bring you more vinyls I have. We can have more singing and dancing parties like this."
"I'm looking forward to it." He looks at a watch you got him, "I think it may be time for you to head back."
You look in a mirror on the wall, "My hair is messy from flipping it."
"I can help you with it, if you want," he smiles at you. 
"Really?" He nods. "Thanks!"
Sirius gets up and grabs a brush, you turn on the couch so he is behind you as he brushes through your hair. "I'm going to try to do that braid you taught me."
"Here's a hair tie," you take one off your wrist. 
He struggles at first but manages to do a good, tight braid. "Done!" Sirius claps his hands. 
You look in the mirror, "Wow, you have a good teacher."
He shrugs, "Meh, she's alright." You slap the back of his head, "Okay, okay! Not the hair! Okay, I have the best teacher." 
You nod happily and grab your bag, "Bye, Dad."
"See you soon, y/n," he winks.
320 notes · View notes
Home Is Where The Heart Is.
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Synopsis - They say home is where the heart is. Your heart belongs to four guys you call your best friends. Also known as - four important times the boys told you they loved you.
Pairing - Frankie Morales, Will Miller, Santiago Garcia, Benny Miller x Female Reader.
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5k
Author's Note - is it weird that I have sort of compared each boy to a room in the house? maybe! but we're rolling with it, because it worked in my head. this is the first of a few fics like this, much like Tethered, Time and Tranquility - I have a few different TF boy comparison ideas. love these babies so much. <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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You follow the laughter floating down the hallway into your backyard. Standing against the doorframe, you watch as the boys double over in amusement while Benny reenacts the time Frankie fell in your pool. Their faces are illuminated by the golden glow of the fairy lights adorning your deck, moonlight shining down.
"And none of you helped me! Hermosa had to come and rescue me! At least I know who loves me the most," Frankie chuckles, tilting back in his chair to catch your eyes.
You make your way over and kiss him on the cheek, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around his neck.
"I don't think there was ever any debating that. You've always been my favourite," you coo, ruffling his hair gently.
"Give us a break," Benny teases. "We all know I'm your favourite, sweetheart."
Santiago scoffs and jabs Ben in the ribs, yelping when the younger man elbows him in retaliation.
"Cariño, put them out of their misery. Tell them I'm your favourite."
You catch eyes with Will, who's grinning at you across the table. He doesn't even have to say anything. He raises his eyebrows and winks at you, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. You can't help but smile back.
"I mean, Will is currently very high on the list, because he built this table for me today."
Everyone groans as you and Will laugh, knocking on the table to check his handiwork.
"You did a good job," Frankie praises, kicking at a leg to see if it holds.
"I built your couch!"
"You can't build a couch, Ben."
"He did! It needed assembling!"
Benny blows you a kiss, thanking you for the assist.
"I did most of the painting," Santiago chimes in.
"Until your weak ass knees gave in," Frankie laughs.
Santi shoots daggers at him, both of them chuckling.
"Me and Hermosa tiled her bathroom. That took fucking forever."
"Frankie, I told you that I'd call a guy for that, and you told me you were the guy."
"You can't tell me those tiles aren't gorgeous."
You shrug, squeezing him tight.
"You're right. They are. I admire them everytime I shower."
"Ooo, tell us more," Benny teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
"Pervert," you and Will say in unison, both shaking your heads.
You settle into the chair next to Frankie, popping the cap off your beer.
"I honestly don't think I'd have any furniture without you guys. This house wouldn't be a home if it wasn't for you."
All of their attention is on you, focusing as if you're the only girl in the world. You feel like it sometimes, when you're all together.
"I can't believe you've been moved in for an entire year," Santi muses. "Feels like only yesterday we were helping you unpack all those boxes."
"Time flies when you're having fun," you beam at him.
As the evening settles and the sun begins its descent, you start to think about just how many parts of the boys live in your house. The furniture, the paint, the lights. At least one of them helped you with basically every single element. You think of all the memories filled with happiness and laughter that have happened here over the last year, and your eyes well with tears. You meant what you said, earlier. Your house wouldn't be a home without them.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The Living Room. Benny.
You're tangled with Ben on your newly assembled couch, a cheesy romcom acting as background noise. We have to test it out, he'd said. Just in case.
So here you are, nestled into his side, strong arm slung over your shoulder to pull you closer. You sip your drink, paying virtually no mind to the movie. You're making a mental list of all of the things you still need to do for the house - tile the bathroom, buy a lawnmower, paint literally every room. But the couch is a start.
"I can hear the cogs turning in that brain of yours," he laughs, pinching your side. "We're supposed to be relaxing. You know, really getting a feel for the couch."
"Right, right. Sorry," you chuckle, nudging him with your shoulder in retaliation. "Just thinking about all of the shit I've gotta do."
"Hey, we've got plenty of time. And you've got four guys ready to do whatever needs to be done. There's no rush."
Exhaling loudly, you realise he's right. There is no rush. Yes, you may have a never ending list of things you need to get done, but there's no time limit. You can take each job as it comes.
You turn your attention back to the movie, discovering that it's actually half decent. By the time you're an hour into it, you and Benny are laughing along. It's a sweet coming of age story, two teenagers falling in love for the first time.
You watch as the two characters share a kiss, all clumsy hands and unsure touches. You smile, and start to think.
"This bringing back memories, Ben?" you tease.
"Oh yeah. First time I ever made out with a girl, I couldn't get her bra undone. I was trying to give her a hickey at the same time, and I snapped the clasp against her so hard I made her bleed. Safe to say, we didn't make out again."
Both of you are crying with laughter, vibrating the couch with it.
"I can see the image so clearly. Teenage Ben with his frosted tips and his puka shell necklace. Bet you broke some hearts, huh?"
"Shut up," he chuckles. "I got tonnes of girls back then."
"I'm sure you did," you joke, pinching his cheeks.
He pinches your thigh and pulls you closer, settling back into the cushions.
"You know, I've never had one," you say after a while.
"Had what?"
"A hickey."
Ben pulls away and turns to face you, looking at you incredulously.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Never got one as a teenager. Now I'm a grown ass adult, I always warn my partners not to leave marks. Guess I just missed out on the whole hickey thing."
Ben smiles at you, mischief rife in his eyes.
"You want one?"
You quirk your brow and turn your body towards him, putting some distance between you to look at him properly.
"What game are you playing, Benny Miller?"
He laughs, and the sound makes you smile so wide it's blinding.
"No games, baby."
"No?"
"I believe getting a hickey as a teenager and having to figure out how to cover it up in embarrassment is a rite of passage. And I'm weirdly sad you missed out on it. So, I'm offering to give you that experience."
"Out of the goodness of your heart?"
"Exactly. Because I am a kind, selfless, giving guy."
You pause for a moment, watching his face carefully.
"Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you laugh. "Show me what you've got, makeout king."
He chuckles at the nickname, but grabs your thighs to pull you closer. Benny plants a knee between your legs and leans over you, using a strong hand to hold onto your jaw. You tilt your head to the side, and brace yourself for his lips.
Instead, he takes his time. He noses up your neck, and then traces the path with the tip of his tongue. He blows onto your heated skin, making you shiver. Humming at your reaction, he leans in again, and connects his lips to the spot underneath your ear, kissing it softly.
"Benny," you breathe. "Don't tease."
"Whatever you want, baby."
Benny picks a spot on the side of your neck and sucks. When he's satisfied, he grazes his teeth over the mark, and uses his tongue to soothe the sting. Your eyes roll back, and you cant your hips into his knee between your legs.
You both lose yourself in the moment, chests heaving and breath panting. You separate yourselves to look at one another for a moment, neither of you breaking the gaze.
Suddenly, you burst into a fit of laughter, unable to stop it escaping. Within seconds, Benny joins you. Before you know it, you're both crying tears of joy, sides hurting and abs aching.
"Oh shit," you choke out between giggles. "How the fuck am I gonna cover this up?"
"That's half the fun, baby!"
"I hate you," you chuckle, smacking his side. "You're the worst."
"I love you too," he grins. "You're the best."
And when the rest of the guys ask what happened the next day, you and Benny discover that you make good improv partners. No one questions your elaborate story involving the couch and a runaway screwdriver. Benny winks at you cheekily, and you can't help but smile.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The Bathroom. Frankie.
Repeated knocking at your front door breaks you out of your reality TV induced haze. You check your phone for the time. 8:34pm.
You swing it open to be met with the sight of Francisco Morales. He has Ava perched on his hip, fluffy pink backpack held in his other hand.
"Hey, you guys. You okay?"
"Hermosa, I'm so sorry for just dropping in with no warning. I have a favour to ask."
"Anything."
"Can I bathe Ava here? We're having some sort of plumbing emergency in our bathroom, and we can't get a guy out until tomorrow. I want her to have clean hair for when I take her back to her Mom's."
You wink at Ava, who sticks her tongue out at you cheekily. You mimic her and smile, glancing back to her Dad, who looks like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders.
"Of course you can," you assure, reaching over to grab Ava from Frankie's arms. "Come on, baby girl. Let's get you clean!"
Frankie exhales a sigh of relief, and follows the two of you upstairs, locking the door behind him.
"Frank, did you bring shampoo and stuff, or shall we just use mine?"
He unzips the backpack and pulls out a couple of bottles.
"I have shampoo, and conditioner, but no body wash or anything."
You root around in your cabinet, finding a bottle with a label that contains words like sensitive and hypoallergenic.
"Vanilla and chamomile. Is that satisfactory for you, my princess?" you tease, grinning when Ava beams at you at the nickname.
You turn the water on and start to run the bath, trying to ignore the way you can feel Frankie's eyes on you as you bend over the tub.
"Bubbles, or no bubbles?" you ask, already knowing the answer. "Right. Stupid question."
"These tiles are hideous," Frankie says from behind you.
"Thank you, Frank. Appreciate it," you tease. "I'm gonna call a guy about getting it all retiled."
"What?"
"What?"
"Don't call a guy!"
"Why not?"
"I'll do it."
You look at him in confusion, before realising he's very serious.
"Do you... know how?"
"Hermosa, it's not rocket science. We can figure it out together."
You deliberate for a moment, looking at him carefully.
"Okay. As long as you don't mind?"
"Of course I don't."
You smile at him before leaving and disappearing downstairs for a minute, trusting Frankie to watch the water.
"Where did you go?" he asks on your return.
"I just put a towel in the dryer, so it's warm when she gets out of the tub."
Frankie steps over to you and cradles your face in his hands, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. He's always been good at that - saying so much without saying a word.
"Princesa, you need help?" you ask, laughing as she struggles, head stuck in her shirt.
Soon enough, Ava's sat happily in all the bubbles, splashing around in the warm water. You and Frankie sit on the floor next to the tub, legs tangled and bodies pressed together. You lean in and rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you.
"Thank you for this. Seriously. I don't know what we'd do without you."
"It's no problem, Frankie. I love seeing her. Wish I saw her more."
"Me too," he says quietly.
You look up at him, and grab his chin so he meets your eyes.
"You're a damn good Dad, Francisco Morales."
He goes to protest, but you cut him off.
"You are. You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You're doing a good job. I mean, look at her. She's happy, she's healthy, she loves you so much. What more could you ask for?"
Frankie stares at you for a moment.
"You're right."
"Can I get that in writing?"
"Shut up," he laughs, dipping his hand into the bath water to splash you. You splash him back, and before you know it, the three of you are completely soaked. Completely happy.
You eventually get around to cleaning Ava's hair, shampooing and conditioning as carefully as you can. She loves the fact she gets to use your body wash, and slathers herself in it, making you both smile.
You wrap her in the dryer warm towel and sit her in your lap on the floor, rocking gently as she snuggles into your chest. Frankie pulls you both against him, wrapping his arms around you tightly. The three of you sit for a while, peaceful and content.
"I know I don't tell you enough," Frankie murmurs. "But I love you."
"You tell me everyday, Frankie."
"I do?"
"You don't always have to say it out loud, but I know. The way you smile at me across a room, the way you always have one eye on me when we're in public, the way you trust me with Ava. You tell me you love me in a million different ways, every single day."
"I love you," he says again, surer this time.
"I love you. Both of you. So much."
When Ava falls asleep in both of your arms, you convince them to stay the night. The next day, she can't stop telling everyone about the best sleepover ever, with her Dad and her best friend.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The Kitchen. Santiago.
You're completely in your own world. An upbeat, catchy melody hums from the radio and radiates around the room as you slide across the tiles in your socks. You grab your mixing bowl from the cabinet, picking up the bottle of vanilla extract too.
Your hips are swaying, head nodding, feet tapping along to the beat. The sunlight is beaming through the kitchen window, keeping the room bright and warm. There's flour covering every possible surface, sugar sprinkled over the counters. An array of bowls, cups and spoons litter the worktops - a visual representation of your efforts. You've barely even began baking, only just having measured your ingredients. You've set yourself up for an entire day of preparation, ready for the exciting occasion.
You're humming away to yourself, completely oblivious, when two hands plant themselves on your hips from behind. You shriek and throw your elbow backwards, connecting with the person's ribs. You spin around to face your attacker, only to be met with the sight of Santiago Garcia hunched over.
"Fuck!" he groans, clutching at his side.
"Shit! Santi, fuck. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Welcome home to me, I guess," he laughs breathlessly.
"Are you okay? Fuck, I'm so sorry, Santi. I thought you were an intruder or something. You're not supposed to be back until tomorrow!"
He smirks slowly, before winking at you.
"Surprise."
You finally calm your rapid heartbeat down enough to register what's happening. You grin at him, before running and jumping into his arms, holding onto him as tight as possible.
"I missed you so much," he breathes into your hair. "Four months is too long."
"I've been counting down the days," you whisper into his neck. "We all have."
He finally puts you down to take a good look at you.
"You look good, cariño. This dress is real pretty."
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
He knows what.
"Looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"You're just full of questions today, aren't you?"
He laughs, twinkle in his eye. The sun has kissed his skin while he's been away. He looks tanned, glowy, alive.
"Last time you looked at me like that, we ended up naked in your hot tub."
"Good times, huh?"
"I hate you," you chuckle, smacking him on the arm.
Santi looks around, and takes in the scene before him. Ingredients scattered, bowls full, oven preheated.
"What are you making, cariño?"
You survey the kitchen quickly before answering.
"Nothing."
He smiles, Cheshire cat style.
"Nothing? You've measured everything out. The oven is on."
You're trying to figure out a way to cover this up, to make up a lie as fast as possible, but it's no use. He can see right through you. You might as well be transparent when it comes to the boys.
"I'm making you a cake," you mutter quickly under your breath.
"What was that? Hmm?"
You roll your eyes and scoff, but give him what he wants.
"I'm making you a cake."
He looks genuinely surprised, gentle smile gracing his face.
"You are?"
"Yeah. I wanted to do something special for you coming home. Tomorrow."
"Sorry, cariño. I didn't know I was coming back early. Thought I'd make the most of it and surprise you."
"Well, now your surprise cake and your surprise party aren't a surprise anymore."
"There's a party too?"
"Shit."
The two of you laugh as he slings an arm around your shoulder.
"Thank you, cariño. You didn't have to do all this for me."
"I wanted to. I'm so excited that you're back, Santi. There's so much I've missed doing with you."
"I made a list."
"Of?"
"Of things I wanted to do with you when I got back. It's what kept me going - thinking of going to that lunch spot with the sandwiches we like, our annual road trip to Cali. It kept me sane."
You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You lean up and press your forehead to his, both of you exhaling. You stay tangled together for a long moment, enjoying each others long awaited company.
"You know what was on the top of my list, though?"
"What?"
"Painting your goddamn kitchen."
You laugh, pulling back to look at him incredulously.
"Are you serious?"
"Deadly. This colour is fucking awful."
"It's not that bad."
"It's terrible."
"Fine, fine! Whatever you want, Santi. You can paint my kitchen if that's what your heart desires."
"It is," he grins. "I can think of nothing I want more. We'll do it this weekend."
"Okay," you smile. "Now, about this cake..."
"Can I help you?"
"I can think of nothing I want more."
"I love you," he tells you, stroking a thumb across your cheekbone.
"I love you too. So much, Santi."
The two of you spend the afternoon baking Santiago's cake, singing and dancing around the kitchen. You turn a blind eye to him licking the spoon and sticking his fingers in the icing. You're just glad to have him back, annoying you again.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The Bedroom. Will.
"Can you pass me that screwdriver please, honey?"
You would, but you can't take your eyes off the man currently kneeling on your bedroom floor. His chest is glistening with sweat, warm in the morning sun. The light illuminates the room in balmy hues of gold, shadows dancing across your faces.
You and Will agreed to dedicate today to building all of your flat pack furniture. You've been sleeping on the floor for weeks, and it's finally taken a toll on your back. So, Will showed up bright and early, ready to tackle your bed, dresser, nightstands, desk, and whatever else presented itself. You were barely awake, still in your pyjamas, sleep heavy in your veins. But the sight of Will, toolbox in hand and smile on his face? That's enough to motivate anyone to assemble furniture all day.
"Honey?"
"Shit, sorry. The green one?"
"Please."
He smirks at you like he's reading your dirty thoughts. He probably is, knowing him. If anyone you knew turned out to be telepathic, it'd be Will. You're convinced he was some sort of psychic in a past life.
"You okay over there?"
"Yeah, I'm good. You need a hand?"
"Come hold this up for me while I screw it in."
You shuffle over to sit next to him, leaning over to hold the piece he's gesturing towards. He's trying desperately not to look down your shirt, and you're trying desperately to ignore the way he smells like heaven.
"C'mere," he murmurs under his breath, scooting backwards so you can get closer to the bed frame. He grabs your hips and pulls you so you're sat between his legs, holding onto the wood steadily. He wraps his arms around you from behind and gets to drilling, placing the screws in perfect rows.
Every now and again, he stops to press a kiss into your hair, or onto your cheek. You smile every single time, heat creeping across your chest. He eventually changes his path, trailing the kisses down onto your neck, shoulders, back. You're breathing so heavily you wonder if you're about to pass out.
"I like this colour," he whispers into your ear.
It takes a moment for your mind to register what he said.
"...Hmm?"
"The colour on your walls. I like it."
"Oh," you murmur. "Santi helped me pick it. He was only gonna do the kitchen, but then we were on a roll, so we ended up painting every room in the house."
He chuckles, tightening his arms around you and encouraging you to relax. You lean back into him, resting your head on his firm shoulder.
"This place is really beautiful, you know," he says lowly. "It's so... you."
"Is that a good thing?"
"The best thing. Beautiful house for a beautiful girl."
"You're a smooth talker, Miller."
"I learned from the best."
The two of you sit intertwined for a while, reveling in the comfort the other person brings. After a while, Will speaks.
"Okay, strong girl, you wanna help me put the mattress onto it?"
You flex your biceps, making you both laugh.
"I mean, I could do it single handedly... but sure, I'll help you."
"That's my girl."
You both make light work of the mattress, picking it up and throwing it onto the frame effortlessly. Will helps you put on your sheets and pillows, standing back to admire his handiwork.
"We did a good job."
"You did a good job, Will. I just sat over there and stared at you the whole time."
"Thought I felt eyes on me," he laughs.
You don't know where it comes from, the sudden honesty. It creeps up your throat out of nowhere, clawing to escape.
"I'm always looking at you."
Will turns to look at you, confusion written across his face.
"No matter where we are, or what we're doing. The most interesting thing in the room is always you."
His features soften, gentle smile tugging at his lips. He strides towards you and cradles your face in his big hands.
"I love you," he tells you so sincerely it makes you want to cry.
"I love you, William Miller. My love for you is just so... overwhelming. Some days I just want to scream it from the rooftops. I don't know what else to do with it."
"Give it to me," he says without missing a beat.
"What?"
"All the love. Don't throw it into the abyss. Give it to me. I want it."
You grin at him, a bright, blinding thing. He reciprocates, before leaning down and smashing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your knees give out from the sheer love he's kissing you with, both of you tumbling to the floor.
You pull his shirt over his head, exposing his gorgeous, sun soaked skin. He's so broad it makes you clench your thighs together. He tugs your shirt off and throws it across the room, paying no mind to where it lands. The two of you don't separate your lips for more than a second.
He's rutting his hips into yours, the friction making you dizzy. You try and push his jeans down, fingers fumbling with the button. He takes pity on you and shoves them down himself, adding them to the pile of clothes scattered across the room.
Will wastes no time, throwing his boxers behind him and pulling your underwear down your legs. He pushes into you with effortless ease, both of you ready and eager. You unanimously groan in relief, panting rapidly. You claw at his shoulders, leaning up to connect your lips.
"I love you," he whispers against your mouth, hips gliding into yours.
"I love you," you gasp, resting your forehead against his. "I love you I love you I love you."
Will slides a hand down your body to rub quick circles between your legs, dipping his tongue into your mouth as he does it. He's swallowing your moans, licking the whines from your lips. He can't get over how sweet they taste.
"Come for me, honey. Give it to me, good girl. That's it. Atta girl."
You back arches off the floor, nails scratching down his back. Your vision goes white, stars clouding your view. Will groans, deep and low, spilling into you. You both ride out your highs while Will murmurs sweet sentiments into your ear, against your skin, into your mouth.
He collapses onto you, smothering you with his weight. You don't mind. Every part of your body is touching a part of his, and it still isn't close enough. It'll never be close enough. You could sew yourself into his ribcage, and you'd still want to be closer to his heart.
The only sounds that can be heard are two sets of heaving lungs. When you've snapped back to reality, you thread your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails across his scalp and smiling when he leans into your touch.
"Will?"
"Yeah, honey?"
"Why did you just build me a bed, and then fuck me on the floor?"
He takes a moment to register what you've said, before breaking out into contagious laughter. He's vibrating against you, both of you high on each others company.
"I didn't even think," he wheezes. "Fuck, we're idiots."
"You can say that again," you chuckle. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Will rolls off and lies next to you, linking his fingers with yours.
"You ready to keep building?"
As much as you'd happily stay where you are forever, it would be nice to have actual furniture in your bedroom.
"Let's do it," you say as you sit up.
You scramble around for your clothes, both of you beaming at each other as you get dressed. You walk over and wrap your arms around his neck, looking up at him.
"I can't wait for you to move in."
He grins at you, pecking your lips.
"I can't wait either. Two more months and my lease is up. Then you're stuck with me forever, honey."
"I wouldn't say stuck. More like the luckiest girl in the world."
"Can I get that in writing?"
"Shut up," you laugh, grabbing the toolbox. "Let's build our furniture, shall we?"
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"You've made this place really beautiful, you guys."
"Beautiful house for a beautiful girl," Will grins at you across the table.
"Ugh, I hate when they do that," Benny complains.
"Do what?"
"Look at each other like that. It's like they're communicating through their minds, or something."
"We're silently talking about you, dipshit," Will teases, jabbing his brother in the side.
"Before the Millers kill each other, we bought you a present, hermosa. Think of it as a one year housewarming gift."
Frankie hands you a large rectangular parcel, wrapped carefully. You rip open the paper, discovering a large, ornate picture frame. In it, is your favourite picture in the world.
You and Will's first dance.
Frankie had taken the picture, unbeknownst to the two of you. You're both swaying to the music, arms wrapped around your husband's neck, completely lost in each other. Around you, the lights twinkle as your closest friends and family look on in awe.
"Frankie," you breathe. "Thank you. All of you. I love it so much."
"We thought you could hang it above your fireplace," Santiago offers. "In that big empty space."
"It's perfect," Will agrees.
"It's like the final piece of the puzzle," you whisper. "Now our home feels complete."
You trace your fingers over the frame, overwhelmed with adoration for the four boys staring back at you.
"I love you all," you tell them, glancing around the table. "So much."
"Love you, hermosa."
"Love you too, cariño."
"Love ya, baby!"
"I love you, honey."
The chorus makes you beam so bright, you're convinced your smile can be seen from space.
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