#and sorry for taking a while to get back to them my period decided to hit me like a freight train yesterday
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racingliners · 10 months ago
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HELLO i'm asking two fic asks i hope that's okay!
✑ PROCESSING for The Rules of Strategy and ♡ SMALL THINGS for Slowly And Then All at Once pleaseđŸ„°
it is ALWAYS okay to ask me to yell about more than one of my fics!!!
✑ PROCESSING: pick a fic and I’ll tell you what it was like to write it!
Oh my beloved TRoS... (ao3 link)
So one thing to know about is that because I'm autistic I will research the shit out of anything. And while I watched the 2017 season at the time, there was a lot of Mercedes-centric things I missed out on. So a lot of my research for each race weekend chapter consists of tag surfing here on tumblr for pictures and video clips (mainly to see what Lewis was wearing on a specific day if I need it, and if there was anything notable that happened across the weekend), looking up free practice/quali/race reports, and also watching the Mercedes strategy debrief videos so that when I'm writing Strategist!Seb, I have a really good idea of what I'm talking about. In a couple of instances (Bahrain, China and Spain) I've also watched the full races back just to get a proper feel for when writing the race sections, and for any team radio clips.
Then, I'll get writing. I'd actually planned out the vast majority of the chapters many months ago based on the season results and what I could remember from 2017, as well as the various relationship development points. But I do the above stuff to get my brain into the frame of mind for whichever specific race chapter I'm writing (I like to do a balance of actual racing and mushy romance bc that's just how my brain works, and because in a way they both influence each other in the plot).
Sometimes I'll be going about my day and I'll have an idea drift into my head for a future chapter, or even a bit of dialogue, so I'll write it down in whichever relevant notes doc I have so I have it on hand for later.
Obviously when I actually get to writing things will change a bit in terms of what scenes I do end up including. I have my notes as a guide and just go with the flow in terms of what feels best for the development of the story. The only exception when I've done a complete 180 for what I originally had planned was the Monaco chapter, which I ended up setting post-race at the Mercedes factory and at Seb's house. IRL it was a rough weekend for Mercedes and I felt like I'd already written that to an extent with the Bahrain chapter, so I opted to change it and I'm really happy with how it ended up turning out.
♡ SMALL THINGS: pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favourite minor detail from it!
I am SO happy someone asked me about this fic bc I just love it so so much! (ao3 link)
I'd say I'm definitely a very detail orientated writer, so I just love sprinkling little things in here and there in the hope that someone else notices them and loves them as much as I do.
One of which was definitely in the hotel room confession scene towards the end, where I very specifically had Jenson wear a mint green shirt (what was about to become Team Brackley aka Mercedes colours) to foreshadow him and Shov getting together.
He adjusted the fabric of his shirt, a mint green button down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and slowly walked over towards Shov. The best case scenario of them going to be at different teams in a couple of months’ time meant that if what Jenson was about to say completely blew up in his face, it would be somewhat easy for neither of them to see or speak to each other ever again. As painful a prospect as it was.
Team colours are such a huge identifier, especially in F1 where every team has their own distinct colour scheme, so it's something I love to play around with a lot for the symbolism of it all (I did a very similar thing in Life In the Fast Lane where I had Sophie and Benedikt wearing each others helmet colours, also to foreshadow their romantic relationship). And at this point in 2009, Jenson had already signed his contract to join McLaren in 2010, so it was because of that I had Jenson wear a Mercedes colour (instead of BrawnGP white or yellow) to signify to the reader that they're about to become each other's person as he and Shov only had a very short about of time left at the same team.
fic ask game
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wosospacegirl · 7 days ago
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dinosaurs and...sex? - Alexia Putellas
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Summary: Alexia's girlfriend is way too stressed out for her own good, so she puts matter into her own hands (fingers)
Word count: 2.2k
Warning: (+18) fingering and oral (r receiving) and at the end suggestive to oral (r giving) because we are all switches here at wosospacegirl
A/n: I think I've found my niche in fanfic and it's writing nerdy lesbian sex...sorry it's repetitive but it's just so fun to write them...
this is a scheduled post because I *actually* have a dinosaur test to study to and I don't have alexia to eat me out so--
..
"Can I come in, or are you still acting like a monster?" Alexia said from the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. She was holding something, but you couldn't quite see what, mostly because your eyes had stopped functioning after reading the word Mesozoic for the ninth time.
You had decided to go to university.
 And now you carry that burden every day. Every. Single. Day.
It was finals week, and you were an absolute wreck. You were so stressed that you had caught the worst cold ever known to humankind. Why your immune system gave up on you at the slightest sign of stress, you didn't know.
Alexia had taken care of you and made sure you rested. But of course, that meant you hadn't been able to study for three whole days.
And now here you were, at Alexi's house, sprawled across her bed, surrounded by books that were open at completely random pages, with class notes you didn't even remember taking.
Your eyes hurt. Your head hurts. Everything hurt. But mostly your soul, because you felt like you barely had one. Surely you had long lost it between the Jurassic and the Cretaceous period.
And when everything hurt, it made you angry, because you couldn't study the way you wanted to. And when you were angry, you were rude.
Alexia had shown up (to her room, in her house) and asked if the two of you shouldn't take a walk or do something relaxing. AKA: She was getting stressed from watching you mumble like a maniac about something called
Coelurosauria?
You, ever the sweet and understanding girlfriend, had snapped at her, questioning why the hell she was bothering you while you were studying.
It wasn't a "Hi, Alexia, I'm sorry, I can't talk right now."
It was a "Oh my fucking God, Alexia, can't you leave me alone for two whole minutes?"
Alexia–who was actually sweet and understanding– didn't say anything. She just stepped closer to where you were sitting, kissed the top of your head, and left a protein bar beside you before quietly walking away, probably heading for a lonely walk around Barcelona.
You cried while studying the skeleton of the Brachiosaurus because you felt guilty afterwards.
You didn't want to be mean, but finals brought out the worst in you. Still, Alexia wasn't the one to blame.
You knew Alexia was back when you heard the front door on the first floor opening and then closing. You heard her taking off her shoes and making her way upstairs.
You felt the mattress dip beside you, and when you turned around, Alexia was sitting there. You gave her your biggest, most apologetic eyes. 
"I'm sorry," you said, genuinely.
Alexia looked at you, cupped your jaw, and brought your mouth to hers. She kissed you sweetly. "It's okay," she murmured against your lips as you closed your eyes. 
"I know you get grumpy when you're overwhelmed with school. No need to say sorry."
"Yes, I do," you said, breaking the kiss and flopping back onto the bed, almost like a starfish. Your book was lying open beside you as you stared at the ceiling. "I was rude, that's not okay."
"It is okay," Alexia said, as she hovered above you, her hair tickling your cheek. "Because you sound hot when you're mad."
You rolled your eyes and pecked her lips. "Okay, now you're stretching."
"I'm serious," she said, getting off of you and sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed. "You pout and your brows furrow
It's like  exactly the face you make when you're about to cum–"
"Okay!" you interrupted, throwing your book at her, your face burning. Alexia could be so crude when she wanted to.  "No talking about sex, or–"
"--you cumming?" Alexia teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," you groaned. "This is literally the most boring subject ever. It doesn't pair well with dirty talk."
Alexia stayed quiet for a few seconds, and you took that as a sign to return to your notes and re-read them. You were lying on your stomach now,  your paper was spread out in front of you, when you felt Alexia climb on top of you and drop all of her weight onto your back.
Out of the sudden, you had a book to your face as well–your zoology and evolution of dinosaur book.
Alexia cheekily snatched your notes, and before you could complain, her voice filled the room as she read the book.
"Thyreophora, often known as armoured dinosaurs, were a group of ornithischian dinosaurs that lived from the Early Jurassic until the end of the Cretaceous
"
You listened as Alexia spoke, and you couldn't help but feel as if she was
 reading it erotically?
You felt her weight on your back, the way she held your book right in front of you, holding it with one hand while her other hand stayed pressed to your ribcage.
"Primitive forms had simple, low, keeled scutes or osteoderms," she continued, her voice low as she pressed more fully into your body like she was getting cosy, relaxing. "Oh, those are cool, right, bebé?" she said against your ear, and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through you.
You had known Alexia long enough to recognise when she was doing this on purpose.
Sometimes, you had the willpower to push her away and to fight back. You had to study, your exam was tomorrow!! But right now?
Right now, you wanted to be pliant.
"Most thyreophorans were herbivorous and had small brains for their size," she said, her hand slipping under your shirt, her cold fingertips grazing your skin just above your ribs. 
"Oh, does that mean they were dumb?"Alexia asked innocently, placing a kiss on the back of your neck.
"N-no," you stammered as you tried to move, but her body was still pinning you down. "Brain size doesn't really determine intelligence
"
Alexia hummed against your skin, letting the book fall onto the bed with a soft thud. 
Now her full attention was on your neck, she was licking your skin before sucking the it into her mouth.
"I thought the bigger the brain, the smarter?" she murmured.
She sat up from behind you and turned you over, leaving you flat on your back. Then she kissed you deep and slow, biting your lip.
"No, it doesn't mean that," you mumbled, lifting your arms as Alexia pulled off your shirt, leaving your torso bare. "W-what is intelligence, after all, right? It's a very human construct and we
."
Your breath hitched as Alexia kissed your stomach, slowly making her way down to your navel, then she gently tugged at the waistband of your pants.
You lifted your hips, helping her in the process of getting you naked.
"Keep going, amor, "Alexia said, kissing you just above your underwear. "I don't want to distract you from your studies."
Her fingers slid down to your centre, where the wet spot of your underwear was. Your eyes were closed now, but you knew Alexia was smirking.
"What were you saying about intelligence?"Alexia coaxed, her voice innocent, as if she wasn't doing anything wrong, as if she really was helping you study.
But thinking about dinosaurs or intelligence or anything was nearly impossible as she hooked her fingers into the sides of your underwear and pulled them aside, exposing you completely. She slid her fingers just above your cunt, spreading your weteness slowly around your folds, teasing you.
You moaned as Alexia pressed just the tip of your finger inside of your cunt, your hips moving, begging for more contact, but Alexia didn't give in. She wanted to make you work for it for a bit.
"If you don't talk," Alexia said sternly, kissing the inside of your thigh, "I'll stop. Keep going. Tell me about the subject."
You were in silence, your brain mush. It was like you forgot you even knew any words, let alone the evolution of ornithischian dinosaurs.
Although you were quick to remember it when Alexia took her mouth away from your body.
You clutched at her head, pressing her against your cunt. 
"Please, keep going–"you whined. "I-I was saying that intelligence is a human parameter, and we shouldn't judge other species based on it because it's honestly a very anthropocentric concept
"
"There she is, my smart girl, "Alexia purred. And just like magic, she slid her index finger inside of you, and your body welcomed it immediately. "What else can you tell me about those Thy
 Thry
"
"Thyreophora," You breathed as Alexia slid another finger in, thrusting into you so slowly it made you want to cry. "There are two major groups, th-" 
You didn't even get to finish, because you felt alexia's hot breath against your cunt, her mouth touching your clit, wrapping her lips aorund itand sucking gently. "Fuck–more." 
Alexia slapped your thigh; it didn't sting, but it was a warning.
"Keep talking." 
So you did.
Alexia ate you out slowly as if she was savouring every single drop of your wetness. You were very aware she was enjoying herself way too much; you also knew she was doing it as a form of revenge, too.
But you didn't mind for her motives, not when she kept fucking you like that. She only stopped when you stopped talking. 
She really was taking your studies very seriously.
Alexia's tongue was thrusting inside of you. You didn't know how she had mastered the ability to penetrate you so deeply with her tongue, but you (once again) didn't care.
Her hands were pinning you down on the mattress, clutching your hip bones, not letting you move an inch as she continued to thoroughly pleasure (or maybe torture) you.
It took you a while to cum, but not because Alexia wasn't giving you what you needed, but because your body had trouble switching from stressed, anxious and overstimulated to relaxed.
Alexia didn't say a word about it. She didn't make you feel bad that it was taking longer than usual. She just kept her mouth on your cunt, as if she had all the time in the word.
And when you finally came, it felt like your body had truly relaxed for the first time in days. 
You felt as if all of your muscles relaxed all at once. Your eyes rolled back, and you yanked at Alexia's hair with a little more force than you were intending to, but she didn't complain. 
You were trying to catch your breath when alexia finally lifted her face from your cunt. 
She made her way up your body, kissing your stomach and your breasts before (finally) kissing you, and sliding her tongue in to let you taste yourself.
"See," Alexia whispered as she broke the kiss. She lay her head on your chest, her finger gently tracing your face. "I was right."
"Rigth about what?" You barely manage to say. 
"Your face when you cum," She said against your sking, kissing your collarbone. "The pout, the furrowed eyebrows."
You blink, still pretty much dizzy. "Did you make all of this... too prove a point?"
"Maybe," she said, smiling. 
"I hate you," you murmured, closing your eyes and letting your hands run through her hair.
"You don't," Alexia said. "You just came in my mouth, I think that was a love confession, actually."
You chucked at Alexia's words. 
Maybe it was the oxytocin running through your body stream, or maybe it was the quiet realisation that this was the first time you and Alexia were properly intimate in days, mostly because of your schedule at uni and her schedule at Barcelona.
You surprised yourself by lowering your head and kissing her again, your hands slipping under her shirt to trace the back tattoos you knew by heart.
Alexia kissed you back–and what was a sweet kiss–turned into something urgent.
"I want you," you breathed against her mouth, your hand curling around the back of her neck. "Now."
"Yeah?" Alexia smirked. "How?"
"On your back, legs spread open," you said.
"Okay," she simply said.
She did what you asked of her. 
She lay down, but she winced slightly when one of your pens dug into her back.
You watched her for a moment, admiring her, and then you undressed her completely. You took her shirt off, and then her training bra.
You wrapped your lips around her nipples, sucking them until Alexia was gasping, asking for more.
Without wasting another second, you pulled down her shorts and underwear in one go. 
You spread her legs apart with each of your hands and began kissing the inside of her thighs, biting them softly,  leaving teeth marks where no one would see them.
You were in your moment now.  Feeling hot and heavy, watching Alexia's cunt dripping right in forn of your face, how pretty her cunt looked, how ready she was for you.
But just as you were ready to taste her, Alexia said.
"Do you want me to read your notes out loud while you do it?"
You paused, your mouth still slightly open, looking up at her. You truly had a problem reading her facial expression.
At the same time that it looked like she was teasing you, it also seemed like the proposal was sincere, like she might actually do it if you said yes.
You glared at her, your eyes narrowing, trying to make your point across without having to use any words.
"Okay," she said quickly. "I guess that's a no."
..
A/n: Got the dino infos on Wikipedia!
Tag list: @footy-lover264 , @fortifyde, @naomigirmadefender , @neutraiise , @milkveed, @browercc , @ace-of-baked , @ikzzzya , @sky-the-trans-guy00 , @knight-16 , @wosohk04 , @evaissleepy13 , @papimapileon , @unpoppablebubbles @whiskeredshrimp-blog @goodloe-e @liloandstitchstan @s0ciety-cxv @dfwspky @karmajn @awosofavs @wosofavfanfics
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sturniqlo · 8 months ago
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KINKTOBER WEEK 5 | FOCUS- M.S
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summary: where matt chooses to play video games over his girlfriend and it ends with him not being able to touch her for a while
cw: cursing, SMUT; dom(?)!reader, masterbating!f, oral!f receiving, hair pulling, fingering, making out
an: this is super super short, i honestly hate it, but happy kink-o-ween | until next kinktober...
masterlist | kinktober | join my taglist
-----------------------------------------------
it was friday night and y/n was over matt's house. ever since they started dating, she always spent the weekends at his house. no matter how she felt, she never missed the opportunity to stay a weekend at his. today was no different, she had driven to his, her duffel bag packed to the brim, and she was now laying in his bed.
however, ever since she got here he's been sitting at his desk playing fortnite. matt had probably spoken less than forty words to her. she was getting needy for his attention.
"baby!" y/n says for the hundredth time. "yes?" matt turns his head before looking back at his screen. "get off, pay attention to me." she whines. "wait until i win a game, okay? i get this really cool prize if i do." he quickly turns back and sees that he had gotten killed.
"fuck!" he said, his hand coming down on the desk. "please?" she pouted. "m' almost there, babe." matt fixed his headset and went back to playing. she sighed, tapped her fingers on her chest, thinking of ways to get his attention. calling out for him and telling him clearly didn't work,
she huffs, feeling the familiar ache between her thighs. she had been on her period for the last couple of days and and it was torture without matt's touch. now that she was off, he didn't touch her. he was literally right in front of her, yet he didn't pay attention to her. she decided to take care of the problem herself.
y/n pulled her sweatpants off and tossed them on the floor and the cold air littered goosebumps on her legs. she centered herself in the middle of the bed and propped a pillow against the headboard and laid against it, pressing her feet flat against the bed.
she lifting her hips and pulled her panties down to the middle of her thigh. her hand trailed in between her thighs to her wet folds. "shit." she sighed in relief when she felt her cold fingers on her clit. matt turns his head around as he hears her moan out. the sight of her touching herself makes him get hard instantly. "holy shit- babe." he takes his headset off before heading over to her.
y/n is quick to speak before he can get up. "no, you stay over there until you win a round, okay? i told you- fuck- several times to pay attention to me." he whines as she continues to play with herself. "please, baby. i'm- i'm sorry." matt looks at her fingers going in and out of her.
"once you win- mm- you get to touch me. and if- if i cum before you win- shit- you don't get to touch me." her pace quickened. matt felt himself get hard in his sweatpants. "but, baby." she shook her head. "focus on your game." her jaw slacked when she massaged the spongy spot inside of her. "fuck- fine." he sighed, turning back around in his chair his head turned back to her twice more before finally focusing on his game.
as he played with shaky hands, the loudness of her moans increased and it was hard for him to focus. the sound of her little whines went straight to his cock and he was now forming a wet patch in the front of his grey sweats. his leg bounced up and down as he tried to win as fast as he could, he didn't even care about the prize anymore, he wanted her. to touch her, to taste her.
"mm- oh shit!" she gasped as she lightly pinched her clit just like matt always did. she rolled the swollen bud in between her two fingers and it drove her crazy. "matt- i'm gettin' so close." she bit her lip trying to suppress her moans so she could get the full sentence out. matt heard her and his grip on the controller tightened. "baby, wait- please."
as much as she wanted to teach him a lesson. she listened to him and removed her fingers from her clit and slipped them into her tight hole. she moaned, even though they didn't fill her up like matt did.
y/n pumped her fingers in and out of her. the squelching sound of her sopping pussy hit matt. "fuck." he muttered to himself hearing the erotic sound. he was so into his thoughts that he didn't even realize he had won.
YOU WON
click anywhere to claim your prize
he didn't care to click, he tossed his controller onto his desk and pushed himself off of his chair and made his way to y/n. her eyes were closed in pleasure and matt saw her arousal covered fingers going in and out of her, her panties were still tucked in between her knees. matt wasted no time in pulling her legs, bringing her to the edge of the bed and removed her panties all the way off.
"matt!" she gasped when she felt his mouth connect with her pussy. "taste so fucking good!" he moaned against her. the vibrations adding to her pleasure. "f-fuck- so good." her hands tangled into his hair, pulling just how he liked it. matt threw her legs over his shoulders and continued to devour her while she was a whimpering mess. "don't stop- i'm so close. putting your mouth into good use, yeah? how 'bout you put your fingers to use." her jaw slacked when she felt his tongue prod at her hole.
he placed one last kiss on her clit before removing his mouth and bringing his two fingers and slid them up her slit, coating his fingers with her arousal. his fingers toyed with her bud, he loved to see her legs try and close. "yes- so good." she nodded against the bed. the two fingers slid back down and entered her hole- stretching her out. matt felt her warm walls tighten around his fingers.
"so tight for me, baby." he licked his lips before placing his mouth on her clit while his fingers thrusted into her. "shit! keep going, please! feels so good. fucking love your fingers in me." the sting of his scalp hurt so good.
a few sucks and thrusts later, her legs were shaking and she was coming. "i'm cumming, matt. fucking- holy shit!" her legs shook and she tried to close her legs around his head. matt kept them open, still licking her clit. once she started pushing his head away, he kissed up her clothed torso up to her lips. "m' sorry, m' never ignoring you again. always gonna be there to help you, m'kay?" he mumbled against her lips.
she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck bringing him closer. "go claim your prize, babe." she pulled away and looked into his eyes. he shook his head.
this was his prize.
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diormoon · 30 days ago
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PERIOD - p.bueckers
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- Paige Bueckers x Fem!reader
- Readers avoiding her girlfriend because she doesn’t want Paige to give her the full nurse treatment, but Paige can read her girl like an open book.
- Periods, Period pain, Fluff
REQUESTED ‱ Yes x NO
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You were studying in the library when the first cramp hit, causing you to double over in pain. Once it passed, you realized you had bled through and quickly tied your hoodie around your waist.
You grabbed your things and hurried to your dorm. Since Paige had extra classes and a late practice, you decided to go to your dorm to take a nap instead of visiting her.
You didn’t want to tell Paige about your period, as she would go into full nurse mode, seeing as you have super bad and painful periods. She already has a lot going on with March Madness right around the corner, so complaining about being in pain while her body is also in pain seems selfish.
Walking into your dorm, though, was a disaster. You forgot that the last time you were here, you were packing to stay at Paige’s for a few days and couldn’t find something you were looking for. Now all of your clothes are thrown around your dorm, and it’s super hot because you accidentally left the furnace on. Today is apparently going to be a bad day all around.
You quickly turn off the heat and open some windows before making your way to the bathroom to clean up.
After your shower and a small snack, Paige called, basically just saying that she would be off a little earlier than planned and that she was going to bring dinner home. You had exactly five hours until she would arrive at her dorm, giving you four hours to yourself before you had to leave for her dorm and put on a fake smile around her.
You were in a lot of pain, so you knew what you would be doing for those four hours: sleeping. The problem is that you forgot to do one small thing before you passed out—set your alarm.
You woke up startled. You could hear footsteps outside your door, and the sound of bags crinkling reached you from somewhere nearby. The thought of an intruder was the only thing on your mind until you saw the time on your nightstand clock. Seeing the time made your eyes widen; you had slept for seven hours.
Maybe it’s Paige? The thought ran through your head, and it makes sense. She has a key; she could easily make her way inside. Should you call her just to be safe? Probably, but you’ve already talked yourself into the idea that it’s her. There can’t possibly be an intruder!
Before you can send yourself into a spiral, though, your bedroom door opens, and in walks your girlfriend with a few grocery bags and food from your favorite restaurant. She doesn’t notice that you’re awake and watching her yet. She just puts the bags and food on your desk and starts unpacking them.
“How long have you been here?” you ask, watching how she flinches, not expecting to hear your voice. “For a little while. Once I got home and didn’t see you, I checked your location and saw you were here. I figured you were getting clothes or something, and then an hour passed, and you still didn’t show up. So I came here, found you asleep, and saw your period pain medicine open on your nightstand instead of in your bathroom. Then I went to the store, and now here we are. How long have you been awake?”
"Woke up to you, I'm guessing, walking back into my dorm. I thought there was an intruder for a second." Paige walks over with your food and hands it to you. "Nope, no intruder. Sorry for waking you up."
"You know you could have told me you were on your period and didn’t want to come to my dorm, right?" Paige asks while walking back to the desk. "Complaining about my body being in pain while I know your body is in pain from practice seems rude."
She just side-glances at you. "If we’re comparing pain right now, then you're definitely in more pain than me." You just roll your eyes in response before scrunching up your face in pain, setting your food down on the bed so you don’t drop it. "Baby? Are you okay?" Paige asks, walking over and kneeling next to you. You shake your head yes but still grip your stomach in pain. "Baby?"
You don’t say anything else, which Paige notices—because obviously. Paige pushes you back to make you lie down on the bed again and puts her hand under your shirt and on your stomach—gently pressing down as a way to help you.
She doesn’t move until your face slowly relaxes, and even then, she leaves her hand on your stomach, gently rubbing it. Since her hands are warm, it’s kind of like a heating pad.
When you open your eyes, you’re met with Paige staring at you—looking concerned. “Are you okay?” You don’t verbally respond; instead, you just nod your head but move onto your side and pull your knees to your chest—facing Paige now.
“When did you take your medicine?” Paige asks, making you groan from pain before saying, “Around seven hours ago. I took it before I went to sleep,” you mumble.
Paige doesn’t say anything and instead gets up to get your medicine and a drink. After you take the medicine, she grabs her food and the grocery bags she brought with her and gets comfortable in your bed.
—
It’s now around 2:30 a.m.; you and Paige both fell asleep during the second movie.
That was hours ago, and now you’re waking up with your head on her chest, her hand on your stomach, and your legs curled up again, with cramps attacking you. You wince in pain, trying to breathe through it and not wake Paige up.
Your body seems to have different ideas, as the cramps only get worse. Already having painful cramps, the worsening is a living hell.
You’re trying so hard not to cry and wake up Paige, but during the 'trying not to cry' part, tears have already started falling down your face. Paige slowly starts shifting awake—feeling the wet spot on her shirt from your unknown tears. “Baby? Are you okay?” she rasps out, her voice cracking from sleep and her eyes barely open. You don’t respond—you can’t. Your body is attacking you when she asks; all you can do is curl more into yourself in response.
When she doesn’t get a response but can feel you curling into yourself, she already knows the issue. She knows that you feel like you’re being punched in the gut repeatedly. And she wants to help.
Slowly removing herself from the bed, she makes her way to the bathroom—getting you your medicine and starting up a warm bath with oils.
When the water is at the perfect temperature, she goes back to the bedroom and gently picks you up. “What are you doing?” you mumble in a raspy voice—pain and tiredness evident in your tone. “I made you a bath. Your medicine is on the counter waiting for you; I just have to go get you a drink.” She doesn’t give you time to whine about how she didn’t need to do this or how she should go back to bed for practice tomorrow. Instead, she carefully helps you get undressed and then sets you in the tub. “Stay here; I’m going to get you a drink so you can take your medicine.”
—
When you said you didn’t want to tell Paige because she would go into full nurse mode? She’s only proving you more right. Once she came back with a Gatorade for you, she opened it first before giving it to you. That was the first thing.
She got undressed and into the tub with you—per your request. During that time, she massaged your shoulders; you both cuddled for a while. She grabbed your loofah and washed your body for you, and now she’s scrubbing your hair.
“You know you don’t have to be awake right now, right?” you mumble tiredly.
“Shut up,” Paige replies, still scrubbing your hair.
“What—” Paige cuts you off. “I’m obviously not going to let you be in pain by yourself. I can’t stop the pain, but I can give you everything you need or want to make you somewhat comfortable with it.” You don’t say anything and instead lean your head back—making her scrubbing stop—and pout your lips at her. “I love you,” you say with teary eyes.
Paige smiles and leans in, kissing your lips before pulling away slightly. “I love you more,” she says against your lips.
—
After the bath, Paige was still in nurse mode. She got out of the bath first—drying off and putting on clothes before helping you out of the tub and wrapping a warm, fuzzy towel around you—also helping you dry off and get dressed.
She then caught you off guard by picking you up bridal style. “Wha—PAIGE, what are you doing?” you laugh out, making her smile. “What do you mean? I’m giving my princess princess treatment,” she says, still smiling, while now laying you down on the bed and tucking you in.
She gets in next to you and pulls you into her arms. “Please wake me up if you’re still in pain.” You nod in response, putting your head under her chin—all of a sudden feeling really tired. “I promise... I love you,” you mumble out.
Paige doesn’t say anything and instead kisses your forehead, letting her lips linger for a few moments before pulling away and putting her hand under your shirt to rub your back—helping you fall asleep.
After a few minutes, she hears you lightly snoring. Knowing it’s okay for her to go to sleep now, she kisses your forehead one more time before mumbling, “I love you more.”
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myfictionaldreams · 6 months ago
Text
Seven // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader
Summary: One week is all it takes for your world to come crashing down. Even though you could have everything you'd ever wanted, for some reason, something isn't right. Will your emotions and the smothering of overprotective Stucky come to an end?
Prompt: please read my 'origin' fics last hope (Ch 1) (Ch 2) for some reader backstory.
Requested by: 2 x requests mixed together. @hellsenthero for the safeword use, subdrop + lots of angst/comfort & anon with very overprotective Stucky. I hope you both enjoy, this gets quite intense so be ready!
Warnings (PLEASE READ): injuries, blood, safe word use, discussion of m*rder, severe panic attack. Not by the main characters: threats of abuse, unconsenting face touching, derogatory, misogony, slut shaming
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (!), Overprotective (!), Dom/Sub, threesome, hurt/comfort, possessive, sir kink, oral (f + m recieving), squirting, subdrop, crying, anal, double penetration, praise kink, begging, rough sex, aftercare (sorry if i've missed any lmao)
Words: 9k (it's a long one!)
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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One week. Seven days.
Not a significant amount of time for most in the grand scheme of a lifetime. How much could change in a single week? Everything it seemed and yet nothing at all.
A week of not acting like yourself. Days filled with conflicting thoughts between overreacting and not having the energy to emote. Excuses became your best friend. Maybe it was because you were due to start your period; perhaps it was a mental breakdown. Who knows?
There was never a day that you EVER doubted your love for Steve Rogers and James Barnes. The term soulmates didn’t even come close to how much you loved these men. The loves of your life. Saving you from a lifetime of pain, saving you from yourself. There would never be a day that you weren’t grateful for these men, and every day, you tried to show them your appreciation with love and affection.
Yes, you were still human. There were days when you couldn’t even cope with their assertive overprotectiveness. Yes, it was for your benefit; they loved you as much as you loved them. Scared of losing you, cautious of the horrible life and background that they’d saved you from. Their job as heads of the Rogers Mafia was rifled with dangers, violence, and death. There was always a target on their backs and anyone they encountered. The list was endless as to why Steve and Bucky acted as they did.
For years, there was nothing but appreciation for this way of life. The dangers that surrounded every second were always at an arm's length away from you as you lived a comfortable, loving life with the men you loved.
Steve and Bucky were renowned for their protection of you. Going to extreme lengths to make sure you were safe. This ranged from 24/7 security, personal bodyguards always by your side unless they were there, and weapons hidden throughout your home that you had been thoroughly trained on just in case.
Next were the verbal and physical threats Steve and Bucky would give those who dared to look at you for more than 5 seconds. People died. MANY people had been killed, as a matter of fact, in the line of duty, love and a little bit of crazy. The lines that were crossed to make sure you were safe had no boundaries.
Except on these small occasions. Just one week for your patience to lose all hope.
MONDAY
It had been a calm day for you. You complete chores at home until you’re satisfied while your boyfriends are at work, making money and continuing to prove they own Brooklyn. You wanted to treat them to something special and decided to cook a hearty meal and have a romantic dinner.
The table was decorated with candles and fresh flowers from the garden. Even your dog Dodger was handsome in his blue and red bowtie around his neck. He sat his head on his paws, watching you chop vegetables.
“What do you think Dodger? Does Mama move well?” you ask him whilst shaking your hips in time with the song playing on the radio. The rottweiler’s head tilts as if to say you’re really going to ask me that?
“Fine, maybe I can’t dance, but I can cook; if you’re good, you’ll get some of the meat scraps”. Dodgers ears perk up at this, and you can’t help but grin down at your baby, “Of course, you’re going to be a good boy, you’re always my good boy- OW SHIT!”
The pain is intense, and the burn radiates from the centre of your palm. Blood, that's all you see at first. The crimson drips from the end of the knife in your hand before it clutters onto the cutting board.
“Honey, we’re home!” Bucky hollered from the front door.
You couldn’t reply. Utterly frozen and helpless as more drips continued to coat the surface. This is how you die from chopping vegetables. You’ll be the laughing stock of the infamous mafia leader’s lover dies from cutting a carrot.
Dodger, ever the inquisitive boy, began to bark hysterically, running out of the kitchen towards Steve and Bucky, jumping up at them, biting onto their clothes and pulling in the direction of the kitchen. He’d been trained for moments like this to protect and alert if you’re in danger.
“What is it, Dodger? Where is she- Fuck! Bucky, get the first aid kit. Baby, let me see.” Steve’s hand's cup yours, pressing firmly against the area that was now throbbing and you couldn’t help but hiss as the sting intensified. “I know it hurts, but I need to stop it bleeding”, he explains whilst coaxing you toward the sink.
With surprising gentleness for such a big hunk of a man, Steve washed your hand, able to inspect the wound as Bucky appeared to your other side with the first aid box opened and ready.
“It’s not deep enough to need stitches, thankfully, but I’m going to need to press on it for a couple of minutes to stop it bleeding”. Nodding your head in response to Steve, you lean against his body, finding comfort in his warmth and firm body.
“I guess that’s the last time you try and do anything romantic, huh, Doll?” Tilting your head toward Bucky, you glare hard at his joke as he sticks out his bottom lip in a pout. “Oh, I love it when you try and look angry with me; you look so damn cute”, he finishes his teasing with a bop at the end of your nose with his finger.
“Bucky, stop being a jerk”, Steve chastises as you hide your face in his chest.
“I just wanted to make you both a nice meal”, your voice muffled against Steve’s white shirt.
“As much as we appreciate the sentiment, maybe use the precut carrots next time, yeah?” Knocking your shoulder against Steve’s chest, he laughs and kisses your cheek as an apology for his joke.
Your hand is then thoroughly wrapped in a bandage, probably more than necessary, and you’re nudged to sit at the table while they continue cooking the meal you’d planned. Guilt settled uneasily in your stomach. It was meant to be a pleasant surprise for them, but now they’re left clearing up after you.
Dodger came over, licking at your uninjured hand, begging for pets you’re more than happy to give him as you contemplated how to make up for your mistake.
However, Steve and Bucky had other ideas as they took it upon themselves to ensure you were effortlessly cared for to the point that they refused to allow you to cut up your food or feed yourself, cuddling you into Bucky’s lap as he fed you. Next, they’re undressing you slowly, carefully and tenderly, bathing you, being careful of your injury, and ending the day with enough orgasms to have your mind fuzzy and body sated.
 You were treated to the care and attention you were used to, and Steve and Bucky did not complain once. In fact, they had smiles on their faces, and they enjoyed looking after you, which is where your conundrum occurs. Sometimes, the overprotective attentiveness verged on being smothering.
TUESDAY
It did not end. You’re washed, dressed, and hair combed by them. Even lifting the damn spoon for your cereal to your mouth.
“I can use a spoon; I’m not incapable of everything!”
All you’re given in response from Bucky is a soft smile, his eyes flicking across your face like he’s trying to memorise every pore, and then once more, he continues to feed you. “I like looking after you like this”.
“What, like a baby?” you ask in a monotone voice.
“You know exactly what I mean” he rolls his eyes playfully but doesn’t stop.
You knew he was trying to be innocent and caring, but for some reason, this time, it was hitting you the wrong way. One small mistake, and now you aren’t even trusted to do anything for yourself? Maybe it was because you were irritable, as they were only being nice to you, but something didn’t feel right. You need a breath or moment to be independent, but for today, you let it go, thinking it would all be back to normal by tomorrow.
WEDNESDAY
There was never a single complaint when it came to sex. They worshipped every inch of your body. Your trust in them was never-ending, especially in your most vulnerable positions. They both knew you better than you knew yourself in those intimate times.
When you need soft, they will give you love and gentleness. When you needed a more brutal, rougher fuck, they would absolutely be up for the job, which is why in the different situations and scenes played out in the bedroom, you all used the traffic light system for safe words. What might be right for one person doesn’t always suit the others.
It wasn’t even like you used the word ‘red’ often, but today, you needed it just because of your uncomfortable position. Kneeling over the back of the chair, Steve had one hand roughly gripping your hip as he fucked you from behind, blinding you with the pleasure pulsing in your cunt from his engorged cock. The other hand was in your hair, pushing you towards Bucky’s cock as he fucked your mouth.
It was perfect, hard and highly satisfying. Until Steve lifts your right leg, trying to rest your knee on the arm of the chair, giving himself more room to push his cock deeper. However, the angle at which he lifted your leg had a sharp pain shooting through your hip joint as it clicked.
Tapping your hand three times on the back of the chair, the pressure on the back of your head eased as Bucky’s cock slips out of your mouth as you rush out the word “Red”.
There’s instant relief as Steve moves away, allowing you to lower your leg and rub the sore area that had clicked. The leg wasn’t dislocated; it was just a bad angle and horrible timing.
“Did I hurt you? Christ, baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to”, Steve begs as he hovers behind you, looking helplessly down.
“I just- need a minute”, you say, trying to catch your breath enough to explain what had happened. The muscles around your hip ached, but nothing more as your breathing slowed enough that you could look up and try and give a reassuring smile. You hated how they both appeared terrified, glancing between your hip and face. “It’s fine; I just twinged my hip a little. Maybe if we just move positions or something so I’m not kneeling”, you suggest whilst trying to stand, but wince when the soreness returns to your hip.
Steve’s eyes are almost bulging out of his head, and he is concerned as he shakes his head, leaning down to lift you into his strong arms. “Absolutely not; I’m taking you to the hospital. I could have broken your hip; I’m not risking it”.
Gripping his cheeks, you force him to look at you while trying to remain calm and stern. “Steve, stop! It’s fine; it was just a little twinge. I’m not going to the hospital. Nothing is broken; I would have told you if it was, and you’d never break me.”
Steve didn’t look convinced as he carefully settled your body into the centre of the bed, his calloused hand lowering over your body until resting over your right side. “You don’t know that. I could have dislocated your hip or something.”
Moving your leg to emphasise that this much damage hadn’t happened to your hip, you comb your fingers through his blonde hair to soothe him. “Steve, please stop overreacting. I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine”.
Bucky suggested, “If you won’t go to the hospital, then I’m still going to call Doctor Banner to come and check you over. There could be a trapped nerve or-”
“No! You aren’t listening to me. Please, will both of you just stop? I don’t want to go to the hospital, and I don’t want the Doctor to come and see me. It was a little twinge and nothing more. I’m perfectly well.” The blonde and brunette exchanged an uncertain glance but thankfully didn’t say anymore.
It was safe to say the pleasurable mood was thoroughly out of the window as they began to tentatively and extra carefully give you aftercare. Cleaning you up, ensuring you’d had something to eat and drink and wearing comfortable clothes. One of them continued to touch you at all times, even as you fell asleep, stroking over your back and massaging any aches and pains away.
THURSDAY
Usually, after an emotional night, you’re feeling needy, but today, you’re withdrawn, potentially experiencing a subdrop where your emotions are heightened and vulnerable.
If you thought Tuesday Steve and Bucky were constantly at your side, this took smothering to a whole new meaning. Even when going to the bathroom, one was there to ensure you were okay, to the point where you stopped answering and continued with your day. It was too much, and it wasn’t like you meant to push them away, but you just needed space, a moment, a second, to catch your breath. It was like you were drowning with the want to be ok, but being constantly reminded that you weren’t made it more difficult to recover.
Your friends who had children would always speak about those moments when they’re overstimulated with touch by these kids. No matter how much they love them, it becomes too much when someone constantly needs to be on you at all times of the day. This was exactly how you felt. You love them with all your heart, but it becomes too much.
By the time the sun had set over your home, you were hardly conversing with either of your boyfriends, which had them both tense. Deep lines were imbedded between their brows; fists clenched to stop from wringing their fingers together. Some of you felt sad and guilty even for pushing them away, especially when it came to bed, and you wanted to spoon a pillow rather than one of them. 
FRIDAY
Due to their lifestyle, there were days when they could stay at home and others when they were needed at work. Today, they were needed at work and for a change of scenery, you wanted to join them, which had never been an issue before. Especially after the last few days with your emotions all over the place, you just wanted some normality with the two men you loved.
“Wait, what do you mean I have to stay here?” you ask in a state of shock, feet planted into your living room carpet.
The men share a look you’d seen multiple times this week already. Where no words are shared, but enough was said for you to read between the lines. The mafia leader stepped forward, all towering and handsome in his suit, enough to distract you momentarily. Especially as his big hands cup your face, tilting it back so that he can kiss you enough to take your breath away. As he pulls away, you’re lifting onto the tips of your toes for more.
His hands remain framing your face as he explains, “We just think it would be best for you to stay here and get some rest, that’s all. There’s also an important meeting today with some unkind people, and we’d rather you stay here where it’s safe.”
You sigh exasperatedly, holding onto his wrists to keep him in front. “But there are always meetings with those types of people. I’ve attended many, might I remind you? I’ve rested enough this week; I want to come with you both.”
Steve’s blue eyes drill into yours as he chews on the inside of his cheek, contemplating before glancing over to his boyfriend, but it’s your turn to hold onto his face, forcing his gaze back to yours. “No!” you snap, “Don’t look at Bucky for backup. I want a genuine reason for being forced to be kept in the house. I want to stay with both of you today, and I thought that’s what you wanted over the last few days?”
It was a low blow, and you had to refrain from cringing.
“I can stay”, Bucky begins as you look over at him as Steve’s hands fall to his side.
“No. That’s not fair. I’ve been here for four days now. Please let me come with you”. It wasn’t often you had to beg either man for anything other than during an intimate moment. They were always happy for you to do anything, especially if it meant for you to remain at their side.
However, as both of their blue eyes clash in another knowing gaze, you give up. Feeling once more vulnerable and tired. It had been an odd week, to say the least. Stepping away from them, your shoulders drop in defeat. “You know what, I’ll just see you both when you get home. Please be safe”. With that, you escape up the stairs with the plan to rot in bed for the remainder of the day to catch up with your emotions.
Bucky heaves a sigh as you reach the top of the stairs. A small part of you wished that seeing you this upset, they would have chased you, but this didn’t happen. As the front door opens and closes, you can’t help but drown in the emotions of the last few days, crying into your pillow.
Later, when they return home with bags of take-out and unharmed, useless, this would be enough to pick up your spirits. However, you aren’t in the mood, unable to pull yourself out of the grump, mentally still blaming it on your impending period.
So, you ate the delicious food and climbed back into bed. It wasn’t like you were going out of your way to be distant, but the rejection from earlier still hurt, so being petty, if they wanted to be without you, they could continue that way.
SATURDAY
Wake up alone, but you know they’re somewhere still in the house. It takes you considerable time to even crawl out of bed with how groggy you feel. You’d probably spent more time in bed this week than any other time, so you decided enough was enough. You texted your friend Laura Barton.
I haven’t seen you in a while and need a distraction. Coffee date?
Five minutes passed before your phone was lighting up with a response.
Love in paradise? You know I’m always free for you; I’ve just got to bring Nate along as no babysitter, but I’m down!
My mind’s just all over the place, and I really need a friend, you respond immediately.
I can pick you up in 20, and we’ll head to a coffee shop.
Your fingers are typing before you have a moment to think about what you’re sending, and you reply, "That’s if they will let me leave the house."
The three dots on your phone appear and disappear multiple times before Laura’s text arrives. Wow, if you’re revolting against their overprotectiveness, things must be tough there. I’ll be there soon. I’m sure if you bat your pretty lashes at them, everything will be fine.
If only you thought rather than responding and taking the next 15 minutes to prepare. After getting dressed, you feel much more motivated and in better spirits; speaking to them about leaving the house is the only issue. You just needed an hour or two away to clear your thoughts from all of the protective, macho-man bullshit that seemed to surround you on the daily.
They’re both working out in the gym, and for a second, you admire them, your mouth slipping open in awe. Dressed in only their gym shorts, you’re momentarily jealous of the sweat dripping down their chests, the muscles covering their bodies flexing with each movement.
“If you want a closer look, Princess, why don’t you come here?” Bucky eyes you just as hungrily as he lowers the weight, wiping a hand over his stubbled jaw.
Taking a deep breath and trying to remain on the plan, you shake your head, straightening your posture. You can do this.
“I’m going out”, you firmly state. Usually, you ask so that they can prepare a bodyguard or security guard to patrol the area, but not today. You were a grown-ass woman who didn’t need to ask.
Steve nods, moving some strays of his wet blonde hair out of his piercing eyes. “I hope it’s somewhere fun”.
Your gaze is still flicking between them, especially Bucky as he saunters over, his eyelids lowered, and he looks like an animal on the way to pouncing on his prey. You’re like molten lava by the time he’s by your side, all but ready to jump into his arms, kissing him until you’re breathless. Your fingers slide over his firm chest, feeling his muscles, thumping heart and skimming over the scars where the metal of his arms connect with his skin. 
You mewl pathetically as he pulls back, grinning as he realizes how needy you’ve become. “If you give us a few minutes, Sam can prepare a car.”
Sam is your trusty bodyguard and best friend, and as much as you love spending time with him, today, you didn’t want to be reminded of how you always needed to be coddled.
Taking a hearty step away from him, you firmly say, “No. I don’t need Sam. I’m just going out with Laura, and she’s picking me up. It’s just coffee. I’ll be fine”. Much like the rest of the week, the atmosphere soon sours as Bucky’s grin fades until you can see his jaw tighten as he swallows.
“Ok, that’s fine”, he begins slowly, like he’s careful with what to say. “Laura can drive you, but Sam’s still coming with you, Sweetheart. It’s too dangerous out there”.
A negative heat flushes through your chest as rage slowly takes over. “No. I just need some space, I just-”. You hated how difficult it was to articulate yourself when angry. Most of the time, your instinct was to cry, but you needed to explain how you were feeling to them.
Steve enters your eyeline as he lowers his height so you’re both eye to eye. “Ok, Sam won’t go.”
“But-” Bucky tries to interrupt but stops when Steve holds up a hand to silence him.
“Take my card with you and buy yourself something nice. Have fun, baby girl”. You’re so shocked by Steve’s reaction that you hardly respond when his lips caress yours in a simple kiss.
“Really? You’re letting me go like that?” you ask suspiciously.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we? We’re a team, right?” There’s something in how he looks at you with such uncertainty that your chest is tightening. A beat passes before your arms are locked around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him slowly and deeply. Savour the touch of his stubble against your cheeks, the softness of his tongue. You’re relieved when his fingers dig into your waist, holding on with just as much eagerness.
Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. The reminder that Laura has probably arrived outside has you taking a step back, licking your lips while looking down. Your fingertips slip over his abs, which flex as you touch them.
“I’ll see you both later, love you” Quickly pecking Bucky, you turn and leave the gym, tickling under Dodger’s chin as Steve and Bucky simultaneously shout ‘Love you’ back.
Sitting with a coffee that probably had a week's worth of caffeine and a cake the size of your head, you could finally go into detail about what was happening with Laura.
“So after all that, they really let you come out with no security? I’ve never seen that happen before”, your friend muses whilst sipping her drink and trying to entertain her toddler, Nate.
“I guess not that I’m going to complain about it. Feels rebellious to be out here by myself”. 
The time passed, and it was relieving to catch up with her, definitely needed someone to validate your feelings. You still absolutely loved them and appreciated everything they did for you, but you were smothered over the last few days.
Just as you’d taken another sip of your coffee, the fine hairs on your neck rose as you felt like someone was watching you. Keeping the coffee at your lips, your eyes darted, looking out the window to the street and the patrons in the coffee shop when you saw them. Both of them.
Sensing your change in demeanour, Laura frowns as she looks at you. “What is it?” She looks around the room, and it takes seconds before she chuckles. “You’re joking, right? Did they really think a baseball hat and aviator sunglasses would be a good enough disguise?”
The fury that had first hit you when spotting Steve and Bucky soon turned to sadness. It was like they didn’t trust you at all, feeling overwhelmed by them. Initially, you wanted to confront them, but there was no point; you just wanted to escape and go to your safe space.
“Can you take me home, please?” you quietly ask Laura, pushing away the rest of your coffee.
You try to ignore your friend's sad look as she leans across the table to hold the back of your hand. “Honey, I’m sure they’re just trying to look out for you”.
“Yes, I know, they just could have told me. It makes me feel incompetent when they sneak around behind my back.”
“It’s not that, you know it’s dangerous to be dating them-”
“Yes, I know. Please, can we just go”. You didn’t mean to snap at her, and it was clear she didn’t seem offended as she packed up her belongings and rested Nate on her hip.
Standing, you walk without stopping towards the exit, conveniently where your boyfriends are sitting. Out of the corner of your eye, they both stand, and Bucky tries to reach for you.
“Just listen, we can explain why we’re here”.
You don’t stop. Even as the tears begin to fall and you see the visible flinch from Bucky, you don’t stop.
Laura tried to comfort you in the car, but it was useless. You’re home with a brief goodbye to your friend. Weaving past the security to the entrance to your home, you finally are at your front door.
By the time Steve and Bucky return, you’re upstairs, changing into your pj’s with a tub of ice cream and Dodger at your side. “Baby, where are you?” You don’t answer, but it doesn’t matter as in a matter of seconds, Steve is standing at your bedroom door, breathless and clearly distraught. “Just give us a minute to explain. It’s too dangerous to be out by yourself. We didn’t want to make you feel crowded by having someone at your side, but you need someone close just in case”.
Allowing him to speak, you’re too much of a coward to face him, turning away as the tears continue to fall and soak your clothing. “Mmm hmm, I understand”. You feel drained of energy, and the caffeine from earlier has no effect. Moving towards your bedside cabinet, you unplug your phone charger, collect your phone and ice cream, and bundle the fluffy decorative blanket from the bed.
“Where are you going?” Bucky now asks where he appears at Steve’s side, appearing just as concerned as his boyfriend, with the hat and sunglasses gone.
“The spare room”.
You can hear the audible breath that your boyfriends suck in. It took everything in you not to change your mind immediately. It hurt them, but they also hurt you this week. It wasn’t like you were gathering all your stuff and going to stay in a hotel; it was only across the hall for the rest of the day.
 It was just a break, a place to cry without having someone watching and then consequently feeling guilty for having emotions.
One of them begs, “Why are you going there? Just let us talk,” but you’re done.
“I don’t want to talk” Your bottom lip wobbles as you hold back the sobs, threatening to burst free.
Bucky steps forward, whose metal hands are cupping the point of your chin to tilt your face up to his, “Don’t stay in the spare bedroom; if you don’t want to sleep with us, we’ll stay on the couch. Just give us a minute, please”.
Trying to ignore the pleading in his tone, you shake your head, not trusting yourself to talk. Walking around them, they let you walk past, and no word is shared as you walk across the hall to the spare room.
Locking the door, you can just turn the TV on before releasing the pent-up sob you’d held in. Nearly the entire tub of ice cream has been emotionally eaten, and eyes are sore from the crying. It also felt soul-soothing to get all your emotions out, and by the time hours passed, you were ready to speak to them both, except for one long blink, which turned into a full sleep.
SUNDAY
There was no sense of time when you began to stir, only aware that the room was mainly cast into darkness except for the glow from the TV that was still playing whatever trash TV show you’d picked on Netflix.
You’re so incredibly comfortable you have to hold back a groan of pleasure with how content you’re feeling. It was like you were in a cocoon of warmth and contentment as you nuzzled further into the firm yet soft heat beneath your cheek as the bubble surrounding you tightened.
Thump thump. Thump thump. The therapeutic beat against your cheek was something you had already memorised in your dreams.
All the memories came flooding back. The crying, the argument, the locked door, the ice cream and more crying. The locked door. Something you specifically remember doing, yet somehow, you’re wrapped in a boyfriend sandwich, and you’re pretty sure the heavy weight across your feet is Dodger.
In truth, you were happy to be there and had planned to speak to them before your eyes had closed. You’d never fallen asleep during an argument before; it felt unhealthy in a relationship to do, and god knows how stressed Steve and Bucky must have been.
Snuggling closer to Steve’s chest with your back pressed against Bucky’s, you finally feel content after a week of wobbly emotions. You’re sure you need to speak with a therapist or something with how up and down you’ve been all week. You didn’t want to move from this spot ever again.
However, the urgency and pain radiating from your bladder had you cursing. Carefully and with great difficulty, you can wiggle out of your beefy cuddle and sneak to the toilet with Dodger following closely at your side. On the way, you’re able to see the door knob to the room has been shaped like it has been gripped, assuming that Bucky’s metal hand was behind the breaking into the room whilst you’re asleep.
Once in the bathroom, you take in your dishevelled look, showering, freshening up, rebandaging your hand, and dressing in one of Steve’s comfortable jumpers. On your way back to the boys, you pause, overhearing them awake and whispering.
“I told you we shouldn’t have broken in”, Steve groans frustratedly.
“Yeah, well, I’m not sleeping without her”, Bucky argues, his voice crackling lowly from where he’d just woken up.
There’s a momentary pause, and you’re about to go in when they continue. “You don’t think we’ve pushed her too far, do you?” Bucky asks.
“You tell me. She’s not in here now. She’s kept up at arm's length for days. I feel like I can’t do anything right. I just want to keep her safe, but I feel like we’re losing her”.
Broken. That’s how they both sounded, and you have done this. Your eyes sting as they, once again, well with tears, and you move back into the room, pulling the sleeves of your jumper down over your hands to wipe away the moisture.
“I’m sorry I made you both feel this way”.
Strong arms wrap around your body, cradling you carefully against their body as you’re moved to sit across Steve’s lap, and Bucky takes your feet into his lap so that you are facing one another. “I love you both. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know whether it’s my impending period that’s finding everything too overwhelming. I’m sorry!”
You’re hysterical as they both attempt to ground you with soothing shushes and strokes of their hands over your back and legs. “Sweetheart, it’s ok”.
“No, it’s not okay! " Reaching up, you take Steve’s face in your palms and say, “I love you! I would never leave you. EVER!” Next, you hold onto Bucky, half crawling fully into his lap to get your point across: “I love you so much; I’m sorry I wasn’t there to fall asleep in your arms.”
“Hey, hey, calm down, Mama. I’ve got you, we’ve both got you. We aren’t going anywhere”. 
Eventually, you can calm down enough, cuddled up against Bucky with Steve massaging the souls of your feet. You all discuss everything from feeling smothered by them to your up and down moods, feeling incompetent, and yet understanding why they are the way they are to keep you safe. It was like the world had tilted back to the right way up. Boundaries are set, so some understanding will be shared if you ever feel overwhelmed again.
“We just need you to know that we’re never going to stop protecting you until our last fucking breath”, Bucky promises as he kisses your temple.
“Good thing neither of you is going anywhere. Did you really think I’d ever leave either of you? Do I need to remind you of the hell hole you saved me from all those years ago?”
“Yes, and you’ll never have to live like that again. You’re mine and Bucky’s. No one will touch you again”.
If only Steve knew what was to come.
It was the early morning hours after your long chat, but it was late enough for Steve and Bucky to forgo sleeping and head to the office. Having a couple more hours of sleep after they left, you were fresh and ready to go by the time Sam was knocking on your front door.
It had been a long week, so you surprised your bodyguard by hugging him. “Did they tell you about my week?” you ask, needing to know if Sam had been updated about everything from your boyfriends.
“I don't know what you mean” Judging by his tone, he damn well knew what had happened, but nonetheless, his arms tightened around you, “as much as I love your company, the bosses will kill me for touching you”.
You pull back, alarmed to see him trying and failing to hide the smile on his face. Rolling your eyes at his jokes playfully, you climb into the waiting SUV.
“Just a warning, boss lady. There’s a meeting being held over the next 10 minutes,” Sam explains as he pulls into the parking lot that opens into the warehouse.
“Oh? Do you know who it is with?”
Sam shrugs, helping you out of the car whilst looking around at the chaos surrounding him as men and women rush around the crates and trucks. “Some hotshot guy who owns a couple of clubs wants to have the protection of the Rogers team so he can run his underground market. HEY! That’s not supposed to be in that shipment, you dickwad! Sorry, do you mind if I go kick their heads in?”
You know he’s joking, but he nods, grinning as Sam, the group's mother hen, rushes toward the offending truck. “Good luck! I’m going to head to the office. I’m sure the meeting will be over soon.”
Lost in your daydream world, you’re half paying attention as the elevator arrives at the corridor leading to the office. Stepping out and into the elevator, expecting it to be empty but stopping short when, you find a man leaning against the wall, staring at his phone.
The walls felt as if they were caving in. Everything, including your breath and heart, pauses momentarily as you know who it is. You’d know him from his voice, aftershave, and grimy hands. He was one of the many that plagued your nightmares from a past you were trying to forget. No happiness existed when your brother controlled every aspect of your miserable life until Steve bulldozed his way into it. 
Ralph Pannone, the man before you, was one of the highest individuals in your brother's gang, but over the last few months before it all came crashing down - thanks to the Rogers mafia - he had been missing on a job. It had been a relief, if not a blessing, those weeks without him and the years that followed, and it’s easy to think you’re safe from those past demons when they don’t haunt you in reality.
The wolf tattooed on his throat is ingrained into your mind. The silver of his fingers glinted in the dimmed light that was shockingly cool against your skin from all the times he had inappropriately touched your face.
Later in therapy, you would talk about your instinct to freeze when in a shocking, fearful situation. For example, on Monday, when your palm was accidentally cut, and today, staring at one of Hell’s workers in your safe space, all you could do was freeze.
He must have smelt your fear because his face slowly turned to yours, his typical devilish smirk causing your knees to shake. You wanted to scream. Scream for help for Steve and Bucky to save you.
“I was saddened to see my little kitten wasn’t on her knees and waiting for me in that meeting like I thought she would be. But, it appears she wants her own personal meeting”. He’s now walking towards you, and there’s nothing you can do except tremble with fear.
Kitten. That nickname that always had you flinching. It was his favourite thing to call you. He’d say it’s because you’re soft and cut, and whenever he decided he had the right to touch your face, you would swat him away with your ‘sharp little claws’. He was degrading, misogynistic and utterly terrifying.
The tip of his boots brushes against the front of your shoes as you breathe in his nauseating aftershave. “Come on, kitten, cat got your tongue? It’s funny how your brother gave you everything, but it wasn’t enough, was it? You still had to have my BEST friend killed and sleep your way to the top of Brooklyn.”
You finally have a visible response when you flinch away, staring at the floor as you struggle to catch your breath at his derogatory words. Your throat burns with the threat of vomiting as his fingers graze against your forehead, brushing aside a strand of hair until it's tucked behind your ear.
Leaning even closer until his lips are close to his fingers around the shell of your ear, he whispers, “Don’t worry, my sweet kitten. You’re going to be mine soon. These pretend soldiers aren’t going to stop me from getting what’s mine.”
And then he’s gone.
Like that, your world is once again tilted on its axis—the safety net you’d been cocooned in, shattering into dust. Time doesn’t seem to exist when you’re in this state of shock as the next minutes or hours flash by in brief glimpses.
Lying on the floor of the corridor, high-pitched ringing in your ears.
Sam’s face hovered above your own as he shouted, but you couldn’t hear what he said as the world felt muffled. All you could tell was that he was conflicted between being scared and furious.
Now you’re in the office, specifically Steve’s personal office on the couch, your head in Bucky’s lap as Steve paced a hole into the carpet.
Natasha was here, by your side, talking lowly to you. It feels like you’re responding, but you can’t be sure. It was like your body was in a weird limbo of sorts.
Home. At last, you were home, in your bed, with Doctor Banner lightly touching your wrist with his eyes closed. He was counting, you thought, and as he finished and glanced up at your face, he was happy to see you were awake. A bright light flashed in your eyes as you flinched away, trying to shield yourself.
“I’m glad you’re back with us.”
“What happened?” you croaked from the dryness in your throat as you tried to sit up.
“Careful, here’s some water. It appears that you had a panic attack and fainted. Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be any head injuries or lasting injuries. Maybe a bruises here and there. Do you remember what happened? What was the last thing you remember?”
Ralph.
The next thing you know, you’re breathing into a paper bag as the Doctor rubs slow circles over your shoulders, trying to reassure you to breathe slowly. It took a few minutes to calm down before you could ask, “Bucky, Steve, please, I need to see them”.
“Of course, I’ll go right and get them. I’m on call tonight, so please don’t hesitate to get them to phone me if you need anything”.  You’re hardly paying attention as he leaves, and suddenly, you’re first welcomed by a lick on the face by an excited Dodger and arms around your waist and back as Steve and Bucky are finally at your side.
They all hold you as you cry, not a single tear reaching your shirt as either Dodger licks them away or Steve and Bucky wipe them with their fingers.
“I’m not expecting you to explain what has happened, and I have never been more scared than seeing you on the floor, barely conscious, without an obvious reason for it. I want you to know you’re safe, and the threat has been eliminated”.
Turning towards Steve, you give him a questioning look so he continues explaining. “We watched the security camera from the corridor. He saw what he did, and we heard what that scumbag said to you. For some reason, a background check wasn’t completed on him so he could weasel his way into a meeting with us. We found plenty of evidence of his involvement in your brother's gang.” Steve has to take a deep breath as his anger increases again, his jaw tight.
Bucky, therefore, continues, but you can tell by the venom in his voice that his anger is just as severe as his boyfriend's. “It took me minutes to track him down whilst Natasha and Sam stayed by your side. We wanted to stay, but we needed to be the ones to end that fuckers life. I wanted to see the light leave his eyes”.
“To be honest, we killed him too quickly. I wanted to inflict as much pain mentally as he had done to you, but know that he died screaming and begging for his life”. 
Steve and Bucky held no remorse when he came to you. This was the life they lived, the protection they offered for someone they loved.
Appreciation and regret are the two words spiralling through your thoughts. Appreciation for them both, for everything they’ve ever given for you and regret for how you’ve overreacted this week. Yes, you were human; it was expected to have ups and downs days, but right now, there was nothing more you wanted than to show how much you loved them right back.
You were done being the victim.
You’re in Steve’s, thighs burning from the stretch of straddling over his, your fingers desperately clutching into his blonde hair, pulling onto it and drawing his face towards yours. You feel his body tense and then wholly break. Warm hands grip your waist, dominantly tugging your body closer until you flush against him.
“Dodger, go to bed, buddy,” Bucky instructs, clicking towards the door. The good boy that he is, your baby strolls out of the room to his bed downstairs. 
Your hands are all over Steve, combing through his locks, to the stubble on his cheeks, to the muscles over his shoulders. You needed to feel all of him, the softness of his skin, the power in his legs, the hardness of his cock.
“More, I need more”, you beg against his lips whilst trying to undo the buttons of his shirt.
“Woah, ok, hold on a moment”, Steve urges gently whilst cupping both of your hands away from his chest. “I think we need to walk about this. You’ve been through a lot, and I just need to ensure you’re alright”. 
“I can and will talk about this, but not right now. I need a distraction, and I need you to remind me that everything is alright. I need you to remind me that I am yours, and you are both mine, and no one will change that!”
“Damn right, you’re ours”, Bucky growls possessively, tugging on the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, angling your head back and devouring your mouth. At the same time, Steve’s on your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nippin' in the sensitive spots. Your hips instinctively grind against Steve’s crotch, needing pressure and stimulation to your pussy.
You’re rewarded with the outline of Steve’s cock, hard and squished within the confines of his suit trousers. Bucky’s tongue enters your mouth, and he groans at your taste, his sharp teeth catching your lower lip and soothing the bites with more kisses.
“Need this off!” Steve demands as he roughly grabs the hem of your shirt, tearing it down the middle and discarding the pieces across the room. His mouth is then attached to the swell of your breasts, sucking until pain and pleasure pulses in the areas. With a simple snap of his fingers, the clasp of your bra is the next to be removed.
Topless, his bare hands are finally able to cup your breasts, his thumbs pressing on your hardened nipples. “These are mine”, he speaks against your skin before sucking a nipple into his mouth, pulsing the sensitive area until you’re crying out his name against Bucky’s lips.
Your panties feel uncomfortable and restrictive with how warm and wet you are between your legs. However, your needs are the last thing on your mind right now as you need to please your boyfriends and show them your appreciation.
Reaching between your bodies, your fingers press against the swell in Steve’s crotch, massaging the throbbing erection until he’s bucking into your palm. Undoing his buckle and zipper, you’re able to free his cock, moving your tight fist up and down his length as he groans hungrily against your breasts.
With unsteady legs, you climb off Steve’s lap and lower to your knees on the carpet; however, his hands pull up against your arms, stopping your movement. “No, this is supposed to be about you”.
Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you move back to your knees, massaging your hands up Steve’s thigh. “No, actually. It’s supposed to be about all of us. Now, please, let me suck your cock, sir”.
The name works wonders as his cock visibly throbs against his abdomen, and his eyes darken as he licks his lips. To his side, Bucky pulls off his shirt, muscles flexing as he does so, and you continue with your plan for the rest of the evening. “I want to take you both at the same time. So why don’t you help me, sir?” you’re looking directly at Bucky now, who grins in response.
“Fuck yes, Doll”.
He helps to take off the remainder of your clothes until you’re left kneeling, back arches and ass perked up with Bucky behind you, his hands massaging your ass cheeks.
“I want your pretty little mouth on Steve’s cock whilst I make you cum. Do you think you can do that for me, Princess?” Bucky asks whilst kissing up the length of your spine.
You don’t need to verbally answer him as your mouth is instantly on the blonde’s cock, teasing at first with licks around the sensitive head before wrapping your lips around the thickness and sucking inches of it back into your mouth. You’re welcomed with a sinful gasp from the man who spreads his legs further, giving you more room to settle between them, his big hands resting on the back of your head.
Bucky watched whilst removing the rest of his clothes before delving into his own personal feast. Growling with hunger as he spreads your cheeks and licks from your clit up to your puckered back hole. Your body reacts by pushing back into his face as his tongue slips into your pussy, slurping all your juices lewdly.
His tongue played special treats against your clit, circling, sucking, pulsing whilst his finger dipped into your asshole. He knew exactly how to get you worked up as he used your wetness to lube one finger, then two, gently easing in and out, trying to stretch the area for his cock. It burned, but it was a delicious pain you’d hoped for when asking him to complete the task.
Just as he had three fingers penetrating your hole, your orgasm burst in pleasurable, mind-numbing waves as your pussy squeezed his tongue desperately. Your moan also caused your mouth to vibrate around Steve’s cock as he verbally coached you through your pleasure.
“That’s it, cum around Bucky’s tongue. Taking his fingers so well, aren’t you, baby girl? You’re made for us.”
Nodding with his cock still in your mouth, you’re suddenly pulled off by the hand on the back of your head as Steve leans down to heavily make out with you, not caring that your mouth had just been on his cock. “I need to taste you”, he demands against your mouth, and within seconds, you’re led out over the bed.
His head dips between your thighs, his mouth hungrily eating and sucking away as your back arches, fingers and nails desperately clawing into his hair. “Yes! Sir! Oh my god!”
“Damn right, I’m your god now”, he spoke the words against your clit. Your mind was rushing with the need to agree verbally and yet desperately hold on to his hair.
A cool hand cups your cheek as Bucky tilts your face in his direction, and you open your mouth, accepting his cock as you had done with Steve’s. Bucky isn’t as demanding as he’s fucking your mouth as he rolls his hips carefully so that he’s slowly fucking your throat.
It takes almost no time at all before there’s overwhelming tightness between your legs like everything down there is going to explode. Pulling away from Bucky’s cock, you cry out, “I can’t- it’s too much!”
“Yes, you can. Come for us, Baby,” Steve encouraged as he slipped two fingers into your wet pussy, curling them to hit that perfect spot within. That was all you needed to both cum and relax all your muscles between your legs, and without shame, you could feel the bed soaking beneath you as Steve and Bucky cheered you on, “That’s it, squirt for us! Damn, you’re so beautiful”.
The breath is knocked out of you by the time the waves of pleasure have subsided. However, your arousal is still at a ten as Steve’s arms circle beneath your body, and you’re now koalaed around him. Arms around his shoulders and ankles crossed behind his back.
“Steve!” your head tips back as the thick length of him slowly enters your pussy. No matter the number of times the two of you fucked, there was never a time when you weren’t shocked by how full you felt with him inside of you.
“Feels so good to be inside of you. Do you think you can still take Buck?”
“Yes, please, sir, I need you both inside of me”.
The warmth of Bucky’s chest finally surrounds your spine as he kisses the junction between your shoulder and neck. “Easy there, got to be careful when slipping this big dick in this tight little hole back here”, Bucky teases as you feel the head of his cock pressing against your asshole.
Your head tips back and rests on his shoulder, mouth gaping open with a constant string of curses and pleads. Much like with his fingers, the initial burn mixing with the pleasure is the perfect mix as the head of his cock gently breaches your warmth.
“You’re so fucking wet and tight”, Bucky moans against your neck as you take inch after inch of him until you’re stretched and full of them both.
The first orgasm with both of them fucking you at the same time is enough to nearly have you passing out again as you continue to squirt until there’s a small puddle on the floor.
The second orgasm has every nerve in your body feel as if it’s burning with pleasure. You’re entirely limp in their arms, but they’re holding you up with firm hands on your thighs and waist. By the third orgasm, you were hardly coherent as both men finally joined you in that blissful state, their cum filling your used holes and dripping into the puddle below.
It was hard for you to stay awake as they carefully cleaned you with warm wash clothes and fresh clothing. You’re thoroughly wrapped in their arms as the three of you settle into the centre of the bed.
“I’m so happy to be yours”, you admit tiredly before sleep takes you.
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luveline · 1 year ago
Note
hi jade! â˜șâ˜ș ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday
im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods đŸ„Č ur fics are helping
could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.
i hope your weekend is lovely đŸ«¶
thank you ❀❀❀ fem, 1k
Can I come over? Are you home 
You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text. 
Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me? 
Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner? 
What kind of dinner my love  
Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken 
Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you 
You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?
You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable 
What’s wrong??? 
Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there 
You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.” 
“What does that mean?” 
“You don’t have to rush over.” 
“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” 
“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.” 
Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?” 
“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.” 
“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”
“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?” 
“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?” 
“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit
 depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.” 
“You’re always good company, you loon.” 
“You what?” 
“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.” 
“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.” 
“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?” 
“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”
“I know what you want.” 
“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”
“Don’t you dare.” 
“Spencer!” you laugh. 
“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?” 
“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.” 
“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.” 
Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear. 
You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway. 
He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.” 
You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.” 
“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?” 
“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?” 
“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?” 
“It’s in my back.” 
Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.” 
“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.” 
“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?” 
“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise. 
“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?” 
You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.” 
“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”
Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.” 
“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.” 
“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly. 
You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”
He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised. 
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snowrobin-133 · 25 days ago
Text
Jealousy, Jealousy~
Ace x GN!Reader No warnings! A/N - This was inspired by one of Ace's lines in the guest room when he gets into a fight. All of his lines when you break it up are always so cute lol and it happened to be with Jamil so I figured I use him here as well lol. I haven't written in a while so sorry if it's a bit awkward! ----------------------------
Getting a text from Jamil tends to be concerning. Especially when it’s during the time period that club activities take place. Taking a glance, you quickly notice the mention of Ace’s name.
‘Prefect, Ace got into a scuffle on the court and he’s being annoying. Please come by and get him out of my hair. Thanks’
You glance at the clock. Their practice should’ve only started 30 minutes ago. With a shake of your head, you decide to head on over. Texting Jamil a quick 'got it', you grab your things before making the trek to the gym.
Walking through the doors to the gym, you take a glance around. Jamil and Floyd are on one of the courts, practicing with the other basketball club members. Turning your head to the opposite side, you find Ace sitting on the bleachers with a deep frown. His head hangs low as he glares into the basketball in his hands. Walking over, you take a seat next to him, watching Ace curiously.
“Ace?”
Ace doesn’t reply at first. He glances at you from the corner of his eye before huffing, “What? Are you gonna side with them too?” 
“I mean, I can’t really take a side if I don’t know what happened, right?”
Ace pouts and throws the ball in the direction of the ball cart. He remains silent nonetheless. Before you can open your mouth, he mutters something, “I can’t believe they called you
 What do they think you are, my mom?”
“I hope not, I would never want you as my child,” you quip back. 
Ace clicks his tongue, hiding his face in his arms. His next words are barely audible, “Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’m annoying, and so what? It’s your problem if you can’t handle me, don’t pin it all on me.”
You squint at him, taking no offense to his muttering. With a sigh, you lean closer, lowering your head to be at eye level with him. “So? What happened? Was it Floyd?”
“... No.”
“Was it Jamil? Did he scold you?”
“Please, I’m not a child.” Ace groans.
“I know that
 So, what happened?”
Ace stays silent, after having buried his head in his arms, he shifts his arm and face to look at you. A pout and blush is present on his face.
“... You and Jamil, why were you two together earlier?”
It takes a minute to process his words, “me and Jamil? When? And what does this have to do with what happened?”
Ace quickly dismisses it, “That doesn't matter. You seriously don’t remember?”
You tilt your head, “Why would I?? What were we doing??”
Ace groans, finally taking his head out of his arms. He points accusingly at you, a furious blush crossing his face, “You were talking with him before our last class! You were giggling with him!”
Thinking deeply, you attempt to remember what he was talking about. After a moment, you realize, “Ahhh, do you mean when we ran into Kalim and Jamil?”
“Yes!”
You stifle a laugh, “Well, you and Deuce were talking so much with Kalim that I told Jamil it was like seeing three puppies get together for a playdate.”
“Excuse me?! I was not acting like a puppy!” Ace replies with indignation as he pouts.
“Haha, right, right. Anyways, Jamil and I just joked about that, but we just watched you guys. You two and Kalim are the extroverts out of all of us, y’know.”
Ace huffs, “...Still, you two were too close together
”
“Huh? Well, you guys were talking in the hallway between classes, of course it was gonna be cramped.” You reply with confusion.
Ace looks at you like you had suddenly sprouted mushrooms from your head. He groans and furiously rubs at his hair.
“Ace???” you watch him with concern.
Hiding his face from you, Ace groans, muttering something.
“Huh? What did you say?” Ace mutters it again, slightly louder, but still inaudible.
“Huh??”
Ace’s head shoots up, glaring at you with a flushed expression, “I said you’re so oblivious! How can you not see I like you?!”
His shout rings out, echoing through the spacious gym. The sounds of basketballs once hitting the ground or hitting the hoops quiet down as the members of the club turn to look at the pair.
Silence stretches out for a minute before Floyd suddenly laughs, “Did Crabby finally confess?”
“It would seem so.” Jamil replies with a satisfied nod. The rest of the basketball club cheers in response, throwing out a few “finally!”s and “congrats, Ace!”
Ace glares at the team on the opposite side of the room, “Shut up, you guys! Gahh! I can’t take this anymore!!” He stands up and stomps away, a pout on his expression and his ears tinted red.
You scramble after him, “Wait, Ace!”
You follow him out into the hallway, leading to the locker room. Running up to him, you take hold of his wrist, forcing him to turn around. His face is still furiously red, and he refuses to look at you. He mumbles something and attempts to walk away, but you take both of his hands into yours.
“Ace, look at me, please?”
With a grumble, Ace slowly meets your gaze.
You smile at him, “You didn’t let me reply, y’know?”
Ace grimaces, “And? I don’t need a rejection, save the pi-”
“I like you too, Ace.” Quickly interrupting him, a soft laugh makes its way out of your throat as his expression shifts.
“W-wait, seriously? H-hold on! You can’t joke about this, ok?! Not with my dignity on the line!”
“You’re the jokester here, Ace, why would I joke about my feelings?”
Ace pouts at you, tightening his hold on your hands and leaning to rest his forehead on your shoulder, “Yeah, yeah. No take backs, though, got it?”
“Of course,” You pause before remembering something, "So... What happened for you to get into a scuffle on the court?"
"...Nothing important."
"Are you sure?"
Ace huffs, "Of course!... You'd take my side though, right?"
You laugh, "Sure, as long as you were actually in the right, kay?"
From the doors to the gym, Floyd and Jamil watch with keen eyes.
“Eh-he, it was so funny to watch Crabby get all crabby and jealous over shrimpy. Too bad he confessed
” Floyd sighs.
“Indeed, his ‘secret’ glares were way too obvious,” Jamil huffs, albeit with a small smile. He then turns to walk away, “Come on, Floyd, let’s get back to practice.”
“Eh~? Do I have to~?”
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Sorry if there was anything out of character! ^^ I'm also gonna tag my good friend @thecoolsquirrel who I know is a fan of Ace hehe
Hope you all enjoyed this! ^^
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viperify · 2 months ago
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AU | ᎅᎀʀᎋ ᮠᮀᮍᮘÉȘʀᎇ!ᮛᮏᮍ x ꜰ!ʀᎇᎀᎅᎇʀ
₊˚.☟⋆ Mine, forever.
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Short Summary: Strange dreams and memories plague your sleep. You would do nothing rather than to forget about everything that has happened—but Tom has other plans for your shared future.
Warnings: obsessive!Tom, biting, blood drinking, Tom doesn’t know what to make of his feelings, slight misogyny, kidnapping I suppose? Also manipulation through the effect of a vampire’s bite.
A/N: This is my participation for week 2 of @acourtofchaos’ Festival of AUs! Just had to take part with my beloved vampire Tommy. <3 — Repost bc I had to make some slight adjustments. Sorry!!
wordcount: 2,5k
also, this is part two of In His Fangs!
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Bruised.
Marked.
Branded.
That’s how you left the forest that night.
But not only that.
Tom Riddle was alive—and it would be a burden for you to carry alone.
—
You expect him to come back—almost wait for it. The first few nights, you don’t get to rest. Tossing and turning, trying methods from old books in your attic. It’s all no help. The memory of him, his scarlet eyes, his sharp fangs dragging over your neck, cold hands roaming over your bare skin—keeps you wide awake for most of the night.
Days and weeks pass. Still, no sign of him. People have stopped talking about Voldemort’s return. Just a rumour. Nonsense someone made up back when all these dead sheep were found.
Just rumours, you repeat to yourself, shaking your head slightly. Right.
That evening, after your shower, you take a look in the mirror, eyes drifting to the letters he’s carved just below your collarbone. They have reduced to scars, small imperfections on your skin. Still very visible, and not something you could cover up—no matter what you tried, nothing worked. They’d always shine through, even if you put five layers of makeup.
You have decided to stick to high-neck shirts from now on.
However, today, when you reach to trace them with your finger, you feel a slight burn—not much, barely there—yet, your hand jerks back at the sensation.
It’s almost been four weeks since you last saw him—which means the next full moon should be right around the corner.
You swallow hard at the realisation.
That same night, when you close the curtains to your bedroom window, you take a look at the moon. It’s an almost perfect circle, shining brighter than usual. So bright, you pull the curtains shut, as to protect yourself from it.
As you do, a flash of red in the distance. So small, you barely even register it.
You look again.
Nothing.
You are tired, drained. Sleep catches up faster than you’d want it to, and mere minutes later you are asleep. One of the deepest sleeps you have had in a while.
For a reason.
You don’t often dream, certainly not lately, as you have hardly slept anyway. Though today, you can’t seem to catch a break. Dreams of your years at Hogwarts, of classes and free periods, of your late-night study sessions in the library. They all have something in common—such a small detail, it’s easily missed if not pointed out.
Tom is in every little scene. Sometimes staring at you from across the courtyard, other times reading a book in the library, just an aisle further.
You never noticed, but now it seems so straightforward.
The quiet, nerdy boy with no family to go home to during holidays, the young, handsome prefect with the prettiest eyes and softest hair had been observing you back in school.
As soon as you connect the dots, still half asleep, these little memories fade into a blur—and the scenery changes.
Darkness.
Creaking wood.
The soft, vanilla scent of lit candles.
Freezing cold hands roaming over your exposed skin—having you shiver.
A sudden, sharp pain on your neck—
You shriek awake, drenched in sweat. Looking around you, you are met with nothing except for darkness and silence.
Just a dream.
He won’t come back.
Never.
Right?
Though you have slept for at least eight hours that night, you feel more exhausted than before you went to bed when you wake up in the morning.
Getting out of bed is hard, your neck stiff and sore. But work is waiting, and these days you can’t allow yourself to call in sick. They’ll replace you on the spot if you even only attempt to. You sigh. It’s messed up, but that’s how it is. And you need this job and the money if you don’t want to end up without a roof over your head—urgently.
You carry yourself over to your bathroom, applying toothpaste to your toothbrush before you start cleaning in circular motions. When you look up at your reflection in the mirror, you gasp—toothbrush falling into the marble sink.
There are massive bags under your eyes, cheeks sunken in, eyes glassy. You look horrible—so sick you have no business going outside, let alone working.
But weirdly enough, you don’t feel how you look.
You are just fine—yes, your neck could be better, and you are just a tiny bit dizzy—but that could as well be the result of your recent sleep deprivation—or the fact you are constantly worrying about everything.
Heading to your workplace, you notice people staring, whispering to each other as you pass. You try to ignore them as best as you can, releasing a deep sigh as soon as the entrance door to the little coffee shop you work at closes behind you, the one just around the corner from the Three Broomsticks with barely any customers.
You prepare for your shift, and as expected, it’s slow. Barely served two customers before lunch. Just as you are about to close the shop for break, a man enters. Tall, dressed in all black, face almost unrecognizable as it’s hidden behind a hat, scarf and coat.
Weird, it’s summer.
“We are about to close,” you apologize with a soft smile.
He gets seated nonetheless.
Internally, you want to tell him to leave. Drag him out by his hair if you have to. You are tired, exhausted—but also not in the mood to argue with someone who might just quickly drink a coffee and then leave. Especially when you need every customer you can get anyway.
So you serve him his order.
He doesn’t talk much, yet you feel his gaze burning through you, almost uncomfortably so. You think you know his eyes from somewhere—but you can’t exactly recall from where.
“You look sick. Are you doing quite alright, sweetheart?” He asks, stirring his coffee. Eyes meeting yours as you don’t immediately find an answer.
The voice.
You could swear—
His hand briefly brushes against yours as you clean spilled water from the table, and you flinch at the sensation. They are freezing cold.
“I am— fine.” You reassure, though startled.
He doesn’t speak again after that, and five minutes later, he’s gone. Left a tip, though.
With a note.
“Looking forward to seeing you again.”
You throw it away when you get home.
That night, it’s the same ordeal. Scars burning more than the day before, moon completing a full circle. Dreams of your past, each of them featuring Tom, as though you can’t escape him. Then, memories of that one night in the hut. Clearer this time. How he touched you, where he touched you. How he marked and branded you as his.
Again, you manage to tear yourself from the dream, waking up. Hair stuck to your damp forehead as you turn on the light, checking if there is anyone.
Nobody.
Just as you are about to go back to sleep, you spot a note on your bedside table.
“Come and find me, sweet girl.
Tomorrow, 20:00. I will be there.
If you don’t—as you see, I know where to find you.
And remember, I don’t appreciate disobedience.”
You quickly scrunch the paper, throwing it across the room. You wish he’d just finished the job last time. Like he did with the animals.
Why didn’t he?
—
It’s not that you want to go back, no. But you would rather have it happen in the forest than in your own sacred four walls. Again, you ask yourself—why you? Why not someone else?
Tom is already waiting when you enter the wooden cabin, deep in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.
“I knew you would come if I called for you.” He drawls, stalking towards you.
You scoff. “Did I have a choice?”
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Of course not.”
His eyes scan your body as though he wants to imprint every detail in his mind.
Even more beautiful than last time he saw you, Tom thinks. So pretty when you are scared, shivering. When your heart rate is twice as high as normal—pumping his favourite blood through your veins.
That’s what he’s been waiting for ever since you left.
Tom has done research in the meantime. Gone to several healers he knew he could trust—mostly those closely related to the Malfoys and Rosiers—where he assumed the secret of his return would be safe.
They told him what he had already suspected.
His death broke the curse of the Love Potion his mother had used to seduce his father. And suddenly, when he chose to return as a vampire, all these pent-up feelings he was never able to experience broke free.
He’d always seen you as someone special. An intelligent girl back at Hogwarts, someone that could challenge him—it intrigued him. He observed you, without you ever noticing. But Tom never knew what to make of this strange pull he had towards you.
Until he saw you wandering the street, smelled the scent of you and your blood from a mile away. All these emotions came crashing down onto him, and he realised what it was that interested him about you.
But even now, that he is able to feel—he doesn’t yet know how to love.
So it has turned into obsession instead.
An unknown feeling spread in his chest whenever he saw you from afar. Something that made him crave you, your touch, your affection. He didn’t like it. It made him vulnerable. You made him feel like that. And Merlin, he wanted to punish you for it.
So he lured you into the forest that night. Took everything from you.
He needed you to want him back. But it didn’t happen. So, instead, he made sure you would be his either way.
His initials carved into your skin a constant reminder of who you really belonged to.
“You did that, didn’t you?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. “The dreams, the note. The man at my work. It was all you.”
He nods, face mere inches from yours.
“Why?” You ask again, more silently this time. Voice barely above a whisper.
His hand tilts your head upwards so you are forced to look into his eyes, his thumb wiping over your trembling lips.
“You are so beautiful.” He whispers after what feels like an eternity. Completely disregarding your question. Your heart sinks.
You shake your head. “Answer me.”
His hand trails down your neck, barely touching, slipping beneath the fabric of your sweater—pausing briefly as he feels his initials on your skin.
“You are mine. I usually keep my eyes on my belongings.”
The next sentence slips faster from your lips than what you would have wanted it to.
“You shouldn’t walk around in Hogsmeade. What if— people recognize you?”
His eyes, once focused on where his hand rests beneath your top, snap up to meet yours, a subtle grin forming on his lips.
“Since when do you care? It was you who got me killed, after all.”
You’d expect him to be angry with you—but it’s the opposite, really. His head dips, placing a single, feather-light kiss to your jaw.
“I am sure you’d do nothing rather than go running to your pathetic Aurors at the Ministry and report the rumours are true, no?”
Tom doesn’t wait for a response—instead, he starts trailing kisses down your neck, directly along your vein.
A shiver runs down your spine. You shake your head.
“No— no, I don’t.”
“Mmmh,” he mumbles, his fangs scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Not convinced.”
“Please, I—“
“Shh.” He shushes you, tilting your head to grant him better access to your neck. “Just be still, and I won’t hurt you.”
You nod slowly, a single tear falling down your cheek. You just want this to be over.
Before you even get to process his next move, his teeth sink deep into your flesh, drawing the first drops of blood, pinning you against the wooden panels of the wall. It burns at first—until a warm, pleasurable sensation spreads throughout your body. Your breathing and heart rate slow, and you relax against the wall.
It’s quick, less painful than last time. You try to endure. Not fight back.
It’s hard.
Each time he praises you, or even makes the tiniest sound as he feeds from your neck, you have to hold back a sob.
By the time he’s done, you are more than dizzy. A headache forming. Blood staining your neck, your sweater. Legs trembling.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands before he presses a kiss to your lips.
“Taste that? How delicious you are? And you really think I would ever let you go.”
You barely register his words as your knees give in, and you sink down on the floor, vision blurring, ears ringing.
The next thing you remember is waking up the morning after. Not in your own bed. The mattress is harder, pillow thicker than your own. Your neck hurts—and not just because of the pillow.
You try sitting up, lift your head—and immediately lie back down. It hurt too badly.
“There she is. Good girl.” An all-too-familiar voice drawls from beside you, and as you turn your head, you see him, for the first time since he came back in daylight.
He is still as handsome as he was back at Hogwarts—though even paler, if that was possible. Still the same beautiful brown eyes. Sharp jawline. Pointy cheekbones. Broad shoulders. A dream, if he wasn’t what he is. If he didn’t do to you what he did.
“Let me go, please. I promise I won’t tell anyone. I can come back, I will—“ you sob. “I will give you anything you want. I promise.”
He merely laughs.
“Seems as though you still haven’t understood. You are mine. From the second I touched you, you have been mine. No man will want you now that I have had you.” Tom says, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Instead, you will be with me.”
You try to find your voice to object, to tell him to forget it. He is the last man you would—
He kisses you instead. Softly. Slowly. And for whatever reason, you don’t protest—let him kiss you—even part your lips to grant him entrance.
Tom turns to look back at you when he gets up to leave—grinning. He is so close to getting you where he wants you. Just a few bites more and he would have you following his orders, make you like him back. And then, at some point, in a few years, maybe—
“One day, I am going to turn you,” he murmurs. “Make you mine, forever.”
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thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | AUs.
©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.
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waokevale · 1 year ago
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Introducing Follower gang!
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There. Finally did all the Bishops follower designs!
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The 7 deadly sins
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And some other follower gang, done with lineart this time because the other 2 pieces made me lose my soul for how long they took.
(Also a small HC if I may: Dr. Sozonius is trapped inside the mushroom on Sozos head, while the actual mushroom is controlling his body)
+ some more doodles
Info about the 7 Sins and more doodles below:
Jeg represents Greed - he was one of the first of Lamb's followers. (At first, it was very difficult for Lambert to indoctrinate people, due to their inexperience, this guy was like the 5th or so) Jeg has...a very specific personality to say the least, yet the Lamb can't help but be fond of him. They eventually nominate him the Tax enforcer role and...That might've been the worst decision of their life. But they did not take the role away. Jeg acts smug 24/7 and relishes in his new power, but deep down, dudes pretty insecure, ( but don't tell anyone!) He used to have a huge crush on the lamb, but then Narinder and eventually the other bishops came, and since their leader was for some reason head over heels for the ex god of death, Jeg grew bitter and often got into fights with Nari, as well as charging him and his other siblings more than the average follower. Though he's mostly mellowed out since then.
Brash represents Gluttony They despise Helob, since they used to fight for "food" a lot, and eventually Brash got really injured and was found by the Lamb. She tried to eat them, but was quickly disarmed. Despite this, they decided to spare him and bring his sorry ass back to the cult to indoctrinate. They were very cunning and didn't trust the lamb either, but eventually they cooled off and accepted the new life. She still eats people tho, just not from the cult, otherwise jail or *worse*
Yara represents Pride She is one of the core followers. She's very strict and somewhat self-centered, she likes things done her way, or if not her way, the lambs way. Period. No one else can boss her around or even give a helpful advice. She's actually a pretty stand up deer, and despite being incredibly stubborn still makes a good friend. She gets along with most people though Brash annoys her, since he keeps snatching body parts off corpses. She has always been extremely devoted to the lamb and will be annoyed if any follower dissents and tries to preach against them. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when they eventually took down all the bishops.
Thorn represents Envy He had a pretty terrible life before the cult. When he was brought in, she was bitter about her newfound situation. He wasn't very trusting of the lamb and thought they expected something out of her (which technically they did, but it's just work). He envies the fools who are so oblivious and just do everything as they're told and let their lives be guided by some amateur god. Similar to the other two, he puts on a mask, He often acts overly saccharine to hide his true feelings, but doesn't have any bad intentions. (Most of the time) She does genuinely like some people, but others, he only pretends to like to appease the lamb or to blackmail them. He hates when the people he actually cares about are threatened.
Jermo represents Wrath Jermo absolutely does not trust anyone. Similar to Thorn, and most other followers tbh, their life was absolutely horrible prior to the cult. They trusted some people, they got betrayed, and almost died several times because of it. It was extremely difficult for the lamb to make them stop dissenting. They legit had to give them the loyalty necklace in order for them to finally stop dissenting. Jermo keeps getting into fights with other followers, because they feel as though everyone is always against them or is constantly judging them. (They're technically not wrong) They've died 5 times, because they keep getting into fights with other followers. Lamb strongly considered keeping them dead, but decided to challenge themself with them (also they're too cuddly to just be killed off) Despite their many, *many* flaws, Thorn has a huge crush on them, since he's one of the people who managed to see their soft side. Jermo, deep, deep, deep down actually cares a lot, but they've been hurt too much by everyone, so they retaliate for the same stuff to not repeat.
Herett represents Lust At some point, she passingly heard about the cult and since it seemed like a peaceful place from the rumors (and also had hot people in it) she eagerly joined in. She's usually in the kitchen area, if not hanging around the love tent or babysitting some kids. She crushes on almost everyone, but for some reason she hates Kallamar (legit in my actual game she rejected him so hard, despite having the lustful trait and not caring prior)
Mateo represents Sloth Is perhaps the 1st or 2nd of Lambs followers, so they're absolutely not letting go of him, dudes lived 4 long lives and is tired of it, he keeps switching jobs since with age he's been slacking off more. He's currently stuck as a janitor (he hates it) He's also one of the few people who managed to befriend Jermo, his mellow, don't care attitude is somewhat comforting to them. Aside that, he gets along with almost everyone, as best as he can at least.
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Not much else to say about the gang in the third pic but Riley and Dannie are platonic bffs and were forced to babysit kids when the lamb was crusading. The lamb was a little incompetent here to give carnivores children to take care of, but thankfully they actually managed to be good with them and got used to being on nanny duty.
The capybara (Beige) is a retired teacher and adopted a little owlet to take care of (Chip)
While Femur is our below yellow cat, and that's my HC name for him. He's a gatherer here.
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nakylvr · 6 months ago
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VIDEO GAMES
sophia laforteza x tmasc!reader
summary: after "ignoring" your girlfriend because you were playing a video game, she decides to take matters into her own hands
warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, established relationship, tmasc!reader, dom!sophia, sub!reader, bondage, mommy kink, strap on, riding, not proofread
minors dni
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the new marvel rivals game had just released, and all your friends were begging you to play with them. so, after waiting five hours for it to download, it was eventually finished and you started playing.
you were playing all throughout the afternoon into the night, when you got a call from sophia. quickly sliding one of your headphones off, you grab your phone and answer the call, using your shoulder to keep it secure. "hey babe, what's up?"
"i was on the way and wanted to ask if you needed anything while i'm out," sophia says over the phone. when you don't answer, she speaks up again. "yn? are you listening?"
"huh?" you let out. "sorry, no, i think i'm good. when will you get here- shit!" you curse loudly when you die, slouching back in your chair and sighing.
"are you playing a game?"
"yeah, the new marvel rivals game just released and my friends wanted me to play with them," you answer.
"well i'll be there in ten minutes."
"okay, i'll have the door unlocked," you reply. as soon as she hangs up you put your phone down and start playing again.
you did unlock the door, but when sophia walked inside she was met with the sounds of you yelling at your computer. after setting her bag down she heads over to your room, opening the cracked door wider to see you sitting at your desk with your eyes glued to the screen.
silently, she walks behind you and wraps her arms around your shoulders, causing you to jump and slide your headphones off, turning your head around to see sophia.
"hey, baby," you smile at her, pecking her lips quickly.
"hi," sophia smiles back at you. "how's your game?" she asks, playing with your hair as it was messed up from the headphones on your head for such a long period of time.
"super fun!" you reply, your smile growing. "just let me finish this match and i'll get off."
"mkay," she nods, kissing your cheek as you look back at the screen.
an hour passes by, and you still were on the game. your friends were trying to get to the highest level they could before stopping, and you ended up agreeing and continuing as well. you wanted your moon knight's special mr knight skin, obviously you were going to work hard for it, even if you would end up paying in the end. sophia's sitting on your bed behind you, half watching you play and half contemplating what to do.
"yn," sophia says. "it's been over an hour."
"hm?" you glance behind you to look at her before at the clock. "shit, i'll get off after we finish this match, okay?" you look back at the screen. "jason! what did i tell you about healing me?! i'm about to die, asshole!"
after another forty-five minutes and you were still playing, sophia decided to take matters into her own hands. getting up from your bed, she walks up behind you and rests her chin on your shoulder, moving one of your headphones off your ear. "honey, you said you'd get off two hours ago," she says to you quietly, her voice laced with a tone you knew far too well.
glancing over at her for a split second, you nod your head before looking back at the screen. "i know, i know, i'm sorry. just give me five more minutes to-"
you're cut off by sophia grabbing you by your cheeks firmly, turning your head to face her, her nails digging into your skin lightly. "no. turn it off now."
your eyes widen at both the demanding tone in her voice and the look on her face, swallowing the lump in your throat and nodding quickly. "o-okay." you tell your friends you're getting off before quickly turning off the system and taking the headphones off your head. "i didn't mean to-" you start trying to explain yourself, however being cut off again before you could get more than a few words out.
"ah," sophia shakes her head, grabbing the back of your head and tugging on your hair lightly to look up at her. "what do we say instead of giving excuses?"
you wince lightly at the feeling of her pulling on your hair as you look up at her. "i'm sorry, mommy," you mumble out embarrassedly, your face heating up at her eyes on you.
"mm," she hums, nodding her head. "well, i forgive you. but you're gonna have to be good and take your punishment, okay?" she tells you, her hand still tangled in your hair.
"okay." you nod as best as you can despite the pain you're feeling on your head.
a smile forms on sophia's face, and she leans in, kissing you roughly. a little noise of surprise leaves your mouth at the sudden action, but you instantly are kissing back, letting her take over the way she wanted. when she pulls away, you're left breathless as she walks over to your closet. your eyes watch where she goes, your eyebrows raising slightly as she walks back to you with your strap, and a pair of handcuffs.
"wh-" you try to say, but you stop when sophia spins you around in your chair.
"since the games are more important than me, i think we should have some fun," sophia says. "put it on."
you nod again, knowing better than to oppose the woman when she was like this. hastily, you strip yourself of your shirt and shorts, leaving you in just your boxers. you stand for a moment to take the strap from her, securing it around your hips. opening your mouth to speak, you end up not saying anything when she pushes you back down onto the chair.
sophia grabs both your hands in hers, putting them behind the back of the chair and then putting the cuffs on, tightening them to the point it dug into your skin lightly.
"mommy i-"
"shh," sophia's quick to cut you off, putting her finger on your lips. "you can handle it, can't you? you're my strong boy, right?"
you nod your head, a little pout on your lips. "yes, mommy."
"good boy." she smiles at you, patting your cheek gently before kissing you.
you didn't realize just how much you liked having your hands on her until now with your hands restrained behind your back. the metal of the cuffs digging into your skin when you tried to move them, causing you to give up fairly easily from the stinging sensation. when sophia pulls away from the kiss, you're breathing heavily, your eyes watching her slowly strip off her clothes. your breath hitches in your throat as she straddles you, looking at her with big eyes and pupils dilated.
she doesn't say anything as she sinks down onto your cock, a small sigh leaving her mouth while putting her hands on your shoulders. your eyes don't leave her face as hers flutter close for a moment, her lips parting slightly with a little whimper coming from her. after taking a moment to adjust, she starts rocking her hips, a quiet moan escaping past her lips. when she opens her eyes and looks at you, you swore your heart stopped beating for a second.
"keep your eyes on me, baby," she tells you, one of her hands raking through your hair and grabbing the back of it. the stinging pain forcing you to do exactly that, your eyes wide as she starts moving faster, the chair squeaking with every move she makes. "oh my god, baby," she whimpers, tugging on your hair and throwing her head back. "mnnh you fill me up so good."
she's started getting louder and talking more on purpose. you knew that. it went along with not being able to touch her, to just sit there and let her use you like you were a toy. you couldn't lie and say you didn't like it at least a little bit. all you could do was watch as she moaned and whined with your hair tight in one hand with the other clawing into your bicep.
"fuck...see what happens when you leave me– ah– needy for hours? if you paid as much attention to me as that goddamn game then maybe i'd let you fuck me."
"i'm sorry, mommy," you say, hissing quietly at the pain in your head from how tight she was gripping your hair.
"will you listen next time?" she looks down at you, pupils blown wide filled with darkness.
"yes, mommy." you quickly nod your head. "i won't do it again, i swear."
a smile forms on sophia's face when you respond, her hand moving up to your shoulder and grasping you for support. "that's my good boy," she whispers, leaning down and kissing you.
your lips slide together with teeth clashing against one another, feeling her moaning into the kiss as her hips rock against you in a fast rhythm. parting from the kiss, she pants against your lips with more whimpers and moans leaving her mouth.
"fuck, i'm gonna cum," she whimpers, putting her face in your neck. her hips move sloppily, trying so desperately to get herself to cum while she whines into your neck. "you feel so good, oh my god."
"fuck," you whisper. her moans are loud right next to your ear, feeling little drops of sweat hitting your skin but you didn't care enough to mind it. all you wished for is that you could use your hands. to grab her hips, her chest, her neck, anything. your knocked out of your thoughts when you hear her whine loudly against your neck, her body shaking slightly with her orgasm crashing down.
pulling her face away from your neck, sophia's hand lets go of your hair, fixing it back into place while looking down at you with a small smile on her face at your expression. "what's wrong, baby boy? you wanted to have your fun with me?"
"please, mommy," you say. "let me show you i'm sorry."
when you look at her with those puppy eyes she can't help but give in, leaning close to you while smiling still. "awe, my baby wants to make mommy feel good?"
you nod your head quickly, not even realizing her hands moving around the chair to unclasp the cuffs off your hands until you don't feel the metal anymore and hear it clink on the ground. immediately you move your hands to grab her hips, looking up at her. "please?"
all she does is nod her head, her smile growing when you pick her up and move over to the bed. maybe you being on the games for too long wasn't that big of a problem, now that she knew how to fix it.
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sturniolooluvv · 4 months ago
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the prank wars.  m.s
warnings: fluff, language, use of y/n
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⚘ You were currently laying on Matt’s bed while he was in the living room with his brothers. They were watching a movie but you didn’t feel like joining them, you were exhausted from your day, plus, your period had come early so it was beating your ass. 
You were aimlessly scrolling on TikTok when you came across a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend by saying their full name. You never call Matt, Matt. Or Matthew. It’s always baby, babe, love, etc.. you get the point. Never his name.
So you decided to fuck with him. 
“Matthew!” You call out, you want something to eat.  You hear footsteps RUNNING towards the door, it flings open. “What did you say?” Matt says with a concerned expression. You look up from your phone and raise an eyebrow. “I said your name
?” You question. He shakes his head, closes the door and walks towards you. He sits down next to you and places a hand on your thigh. He looks deep into your eyes. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?” He asks.
You giggle and shake your hand no. “No Matt, you didn’t do anything. Why, are you guilty of something?” You tease. His eyes widen when he hears his name once more. “What the fuck- what are you doing baby? Why are you calling me by my name?” He shakes you lightly. You smile. “I just wanted to get you in here, could be please get me water? And my chips, my cramps are killing me..” You say looking up at him.
He sighs and stands up. “Sure
 I’ll be back.” He says walking towards the door. “Thanks Matthew.” You say trying not to laugh.
His head spins around to look at you. “STOP!!” He yells, pouting. You laugh, “I’m sorry-” He walks out and slams the door. Minutes later he comes back with your heating pad, cookies, water, your chips, medicine, and candy. 
“Awww baby you didn’t have to get all this!” You smile taking everything. He smiles, “I knew you’d call me baby if I spoiled you. I don’t like you calling me my name, it’s
.. odd.” You laugh at him “Sorry love, it was just a Tiktok I saw. I won’t do it again.” You pull him into a kiss. He hums, letting go.
“You better not.” He kisses your forehead and walks towards the door. “Feel better, y/n.” He closes the door, you gasp. “MATTHEW!!!!!” You yell.
And here you are, eating cookies, chips, and candy. A bribe to call your boyfriend “baby.”
tags:
@sllutty-sturniolo @sturnnnfresh @garfieldlovesu @rhionapp @sturniolo-szn2 @afr8idofrats @pvssychicken @mattsglassezx @ivysturnss @hjvi @lezleeferguson-120 @jensturnss
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bitchlessdino · 10 months ago
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put it in writing (m)
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In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)
You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.
Until tonight. 
Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree. 
The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?
You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.
“You, okay?”
You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”
“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”
“Suffer my consequences!”
“Of course, darling.”
Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”
You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.
His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer. 
“I’m going over there.” 
Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”
Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”
“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”
“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.
You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”
“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.
You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”
He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.
He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”
You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”
“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.
“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”
“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.
“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere
uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”
“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.
You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”
He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”
You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.
“Care to find out?”
“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.
“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”
You hum amused. “Define fun.”
He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.
The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.
As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.
There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.
“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”
“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.
He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.”
“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.
Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”
You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.
You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.
You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.
Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.
The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”
“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it,  you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but
we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”
“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”
“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”
“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”
You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”
His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”
“Are you planning on finding out?”
You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.
You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.
He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”
You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”
Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips. 
You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.
Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.
“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”
“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”
“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”
Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”
“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”
Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck
”
“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”
“Fuck
me
” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”
“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.
“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.
Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.
“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”
You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”
“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.
You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”
“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.
Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”
“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.
“S-Seungkwan
”
His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.
You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.
“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.
You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.
“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.
“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.
You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.
“Oh my god, oh my god
” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.
“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.
You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came. 
Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously. 
“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy. 
His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat. 
Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you. 
He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and
fluster? “I
I don’t usually—“
“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”
“But what if—“
“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.
“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.
You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”
The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises
and if you want, we can do it again.”
Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”
His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”
You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just
my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot
but this was wonderful.”
You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.
“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”
His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”
He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”
“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”
“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”
You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”
“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.
“Are you actually—“
His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want
tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”
His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes. 
Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.
His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.
When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.
Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.
“Thank you
for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”
The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”
You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.
Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come. 
The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.
Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.
With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.
When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.
He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.
You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.
When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.
As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.
“I had a question, Miss LN.”
You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.
“Sure, what
 um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.
“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.
“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.
“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”
You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.
You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”
As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”
Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”
He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”
You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”
“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.
You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”
“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”
“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”
“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”
Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”
“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”
You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”
He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”
“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.
He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade
”
“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”
His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”
“Good.”
But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”
“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.
He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”
You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin. 
“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”
With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.
As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.
It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.
But is it really a rumor if its all true?
"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"
You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.
"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.
Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."
You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."
The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.
Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."
"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"
"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."
"Uh, yeah. Obviously."
"Good."
"Good."
"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."
You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"
He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."
"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.
"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."
You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "
Everyone?"
"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.
Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.
"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."
"You bet  money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.
"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."
You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."
"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"
You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"
Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."
"Soobin."
"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.
“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”
“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.
“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.
“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.
“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”
He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”
“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.
You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”
You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"
He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."
As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.
Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–
"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"
Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."
Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."
"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.
Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."
He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."
You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."
He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."
You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."
"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.
Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."
"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.
You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"
Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.
But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"
"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now. 
"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.
Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.
Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.
Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.
"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."
Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.
You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.
With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.
You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.
‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’
Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.
He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.
Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.
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xjcjuis · 6 months ago
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JUST TOO MUCH
pairing: billie eilish x fem!reader
synopsis: na, requested
warnings: one swear word, comfort fluff, menstruation, mentions in passing of v*mit, not proofread
wordcount: 0.8k
a/n: na
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if the day hadn't started out shitty enough already, you were in for a horrible ride.
you were lying on your side, head propped up on the armrest of the couch and basically snapping your neck in search of a position comfortable enough to soothe the growing pain in your uterus. your hands press down on a point just below your stomach but it does little to alleviate your discomfort.
you feel like you're about to be sick: there's a headache tingling in the very back of your brain; your throat had closed up in preparation for possible sick; and your body was simply too heavy to move around.
billie sits at your feet on the couch, scrolling through her phone and periodically checking on you every time you let out a groan, which, really, was every two minutes. "you okay, love?" her brows knit in concern when you shift to the other side and curl into a ball. "that bad?"
you nod, however it wasn't visible to her due to you being buried deep beneath a blanket. "i want to stop existing completely."
she laughs softly at that, "well, now. that's a little dramatic of you, isn't it?"
you know she didn't mean anything by it. it's obvious from her light-hearted tone, and the bright smile on her face as she reaches out to softly caress your leg, but your eyes prickle with tears anyway.
for whatever reason your mind had subconsciously decided to take the statement personally, and hot tears roll down your cheeks. and then you were angry for crying over a simple, stupid joke. and then you were annoyed at billie for saying it in the first place, followed by resentment towards yourself for feeling negatively towards your girlfriend over something as small as a joke.
eventually it evolves into a carousel of emotions, each one negative and directed at everything and everyone and yourself. the smile slowly slips off of billie's face, noticing the deafening silence that came after she opened her mouth.
"baby?" no reply, just a quiet sniffle. "are you okay? does it hurt?"
you continue to ignore her, screwing your eyes shut and then blinking them rapidly in an attempt to stop the tears uselessly running down your face. now you were annoyed at that too — adding to the discomfort in your lower region, the side of your face was wet from the pool of tears you'd shed on the seat cushion.
your girlfriend, worried now, stands up, moving closer to gently peel away the blanket from your face and catching a glimpse of your reddened eyes and nose before you yanked the cloth back over you.
"oh, honey, no," she cringes at herself. billie drops to her knees on the floor to be on level with you. "is it what i said? i'm sorry, baby, i forgot how you get."
whoops. she should've phrased that differently. you whine in irritation at her words, causing her to take them back quicker than she'd mindlessly let them go.
"no, that's not what i meant!" billie adds hastily. "everyone's a little down when they're on their cycle and i totally understand. i'm sorry, my love, please forgive me?"
you're turned away from her, but you could hear the pout in her voice. you knew she was beating herself up for her fumble in her head, and you hated that, but even though the more intense of the negative emotions had gone away, you weren't quite ready to be all touchy and lovey-dovey.
oh, but how quickly you retract that thought when you feel a soft pair of lips pressing onto your temple. a softer hand snakes beneath your blanket to stroke your arm, up and down, rhythmically.
she repeats this pattern for a while.
up stroke. down stroke. kiss. up stroke. down stroke. double kiss.
"you wanna move to the bedroom?" she finally whispers. "my knees are about to be bruised, sweet girl. i want to cuddle you."
you huff, rejecting her, but you couldn't resist her soothing actions and silky words any longer. "fine." your voice is small, trying hard to sound disinterested, but billie's face brightens in triumph. she hooks an arm under your knees and carries you bridal-style to your shared room.
she lays you down gently, ridding herself of her slippers and getting comfortable beside you. billie wraps her arm around your waist, providing the extra heat you need. she pushes herself up to lean over and kiss you shortly on the lips and once more on your forehead before laying back down and cuddling you properly.
"i love you." she mutters in your ear, kissing the space behind your ear.
"mmhmm," you murmur back, words slurring as sleep turns your lids heavy. "love you too..."
as you're set free from the torture of cramps and the ache, billie stands guard, ready to comfort you if need be. and ready to run faster than a track athlete if you ever had any cravings.
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mytherapyisreading14 · 4 months ago
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hii i was wondering if you would write a fluff with spencer and maybe he and his girlfriend have a pregnancy scare so they end up talking about kids and the future, all for the pregnancy to be non existant and her period to come the next day (this might be slightlyyyy inspired by my life right now 😭) but he still reassures her everything they talked about was true and it ends with them talking about trying for a kid...
if you cant write this thats fine its just an idea that popped into my head!! love your work đŸ©·đŸ©·
False Alarm
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Summary: You thought you were pregnant because you were overdue. That has led to you talking to Spencer about your future and a family.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Category: Fluff, some Angst
Warnings: Nausea, Vomiting, Pregnancy Scare
Word Count: 2,7k
Author’s Note: Hey, I really enjoyed writing this one! I hope you like it <3
You’re laying on Spencer's chest, snuggled up in a blanket that keeps both of you warm. It’s already dark outside and the TV is on, you decided to rewatch Star Trek again. It's a cozy evening, the moment feels calm, and you are happy about the normality of everyday life after a stressful week at work.
Hotch has given everyone a couple of days off to relax properly after a particularly difficult case. You are looking forward to spend them at home with Spencer and not in some hotel while you have to worry about another serial killer. You really love your job, but sometimes it still sucks.
Despite the relaxed atmosphere, you still feel this restlessness within you. You've had this strange feeling in your stomach all day long, and even though it subsides every now and then, it doesn't completely leave you. You wonder if you have a problem with some food you ate today but you can't remember eating something your stomach doesn’t tolerate well.
The ache becomes stronger again and your face contorts. Spencer immediately notices that something is wrong with you. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at you worriedly. You're about to tell him it's just a stomach ache, but suddenly you realize you're really feeling sick. Your stomach tightens and you feel the room spinning around you.
Before you can say anything, you jump up, throw the blanket aside and run to the bathroom. You lean over the toilet just in time. It all happens so quickly, the nausea overwhelms you and you throw up. The waves of nausea wash over you again and again, you really hate that feeling. But you know afterwards there is at least some sort of relief.
“What’s going on?” you hear Spencer’s voice behind you, a little panicked. He comes over to you and looks at you worriedly. “Shhh, stay calm. Take a deep breath in and out, okay?” His hand gently touches your back as he kneels next to you and pushes your hair out of your face. You feel his closeness, how he accompanies you with a tender calm and you can relax a little more. You are not alone, he is with you.
You hold on to the toilet with one hand and lean on to him with the other. He carefully takes you in his arms and holds you tight. “I’m here with you, things will get better soon,“ he says as he strokes your hair gently. The nausea slowly fades, but you are exhausted and sink into his arms. “I’m sorry,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his shoulder.
“No need to apologize,” he says. “Don’t worry. Tonight we're just going to take care of you, okay? No stress, no obligations. I am here." You close your eyes, feel the warmth of his embrace and let the world around you disappear for a moment. Everything feels just a little bit better in his arms. It always does.
Spencer watches you worriedly as you sink into his arms. “Would you like me to get you something? Water? Tea? Medication?” You open your mouth to answer him, but then you stop. A strange feeling spreads through you, a sudden, cold feeling that you just can't place. Spencer looks at you, raising an eyebrow, immediately realizing something is off.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice gentle but concerned. Thoughts race through your head. And then, all of a sudden, you realize something - something that maybe you didn't even really want to acknowledge until now. Your heart beats faster, your throat feels dry. “Spence, I
 I think I’m overdue,” you stammer, your voice sounding uncertain, almost like a whisper.
You suddenly feel very pale and panic sets in. You don't want to say it, but it's there, like a heavy weight in the air. Spencer is quiet, but he immediately understands what you mean. “The last time you had your period was when we flew to New York, right?” He looks at you as he does the math. "That means you're... four days overdue."
The sentence hits you like a blow, and suddenly the whole weight of the possibility that you didn't want to admit to yourself for so long comes over you. What if it's true? What if that means you're really pregnant? Your thoughts are racing and you feel the panic rising within you. How does he feel about this?
Spencer notices your change in behaviour. Without hesitation, he takes your hands in his, pulling you a little closer to him. “Hey, hey, take it easy please,” he says, his voice soothing, almost gentle. “Take a deep breath first, okay? We don’t know anything for sure yet.” You close your eyes and try to organize your thoughts, but the uncertainty remains.
Spencer squeezes your hands tighter, as if to tell you that you’re not alone. “It could be anything, we just have to wait and see. Don't panic, we'll buy a pregnancy test tomorrow, okay? And then we’ll know more.” He speaks with a calmness that you barely feel in yourself at the moment, but being this close to him helps. He’s making sure you know that he's just going to hold you in this moment, in this situation, no matter what.
But even if his words are reassuring, there remains this uncertainty that hangs over your thoughts like a shadow. “I know you’re thinking a lot right now,” he continues. “But I’m here, we’re doing this together.” He looks at you like he wants to make sure you hear him, that you trust him. You nod weakly, trying to let go of the panic and focus on his calm breathing.
“It’s also normal for your period to come later sometimes. Stress can affect your hormonal balance and disrupt your cycle. When the body is under pressure, this can cause periods to start later because the body has different priorities in stressful situations. Traveling, changing time zones or even changes in sleep patterns can also disrupt the body's natural rhythm and lead to a delay in your period. You've had a lot of both in the last few weeks, so that could be the reason,“ he adds.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Spencer's words are like a little support that brings you back down to earth. You are so grateful to have him by your side. There are no answers yet, just uncertainty and a lot of questions, but you are not alone in this moment. And that feels at least a little bit better.
You feel how your thoughts continue to revolve around the topic. You imagine thousands of possible scenarios. “And what if I’m really pregnant?” you ask hesitantly, letting the thought hang in the silence between you. “What if we have a baby now, Spence?” The question feels heavy, almost too big for this moment.
You look at him, realizing that in this moment you not only feel the uncertainty about your body, but also the burden of responsibility that suddenly lies on both of you. The two of you haven't really talked about what things will look like for you in the future and whether you want to have kids.
“No matter what, I'll stay with you. I want you to know that,“ he says and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling your closer against him. “The first thing we're going to do tomorrow is get a pregnancy test. If it’s positive, you can still think about what you want to do. Don’t worry about it too much now. We don't know anything for sure yet.”
“Thank you, Spence,” you finally whisper, your voice a little calmer even as the thoughts continue to swirl inside you. Suddenly there’s a moment of silence between you. You slowly turn to him and look up into his eyes. “Do you want to have kids?” The question comes quietly, almost a little unsure, as if you were looking for the answer within yourself as much as you were looking for his.
Spencer smiles at you, and it's a warm, genuine smile. “Yes, I want to have kids,” he says, and you can see that he’s really speaking from his heart. “I want us to have kids, I want us to start our own family.” A smile spreads across your face as he continues. “From the first moment I saw you, I knew I was in love with you. I imagined what it would be like to build a life with you - a house, getting married, having kids, growing old together. I want everything with you.”
You feel tears welling up in your eyes as he continues. “And if you are pregnant, please remember, I will always stay by your side, no matter what.” It's like the bond between you two is tightening even more and suddenly it breaks out of you. The tears stream down your cheeks and you throw yourself into his arms, pressing against him as if you never want to let go again.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “I want that too, Spencer.” He holds you close, his hand rubbing soothingly over your back, and you safer in his arms. He places a gentle kiss on your head as he continues to stroke your hair. “Let’s go get you to bed now,” he says. “Tomorrow we’ll get you a pregnancy test and then you can think about what happens next. Do you want me to make you some tea?”
You nod weakly and whisper, “Yes, please.” You expect him to just go into the kitchen but to your surprise he picks you up. “Spence, you don’t have to do this,” you say, laughing as he gently carries you in his arms. You wrap your hands around his neck and run your fingers through his soft, brown curls. “But I want to,” he says with a grin as he goes to your bedroom and lays you down gently on the bed.
Then he goes into the kitchen to make your tea. When he returns, he sits down on the bed with a cup in his hand, and you accept it gratefully. “Thank you,” you say, your eyes meeting his, and you feel incredibly comfortable just being here with him. You snuggle up to him, the warmth of his body making you feel safe and secure. In that moment, it feels like you can do anything as long as you're together.
The rest may be uncertain tonight, but know that you are not alone. “Goodnight,” Spencer says quietly and leans down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, the calming feeling of his closeness envelops you, and for a moment you let everything go. Tomorrow will be a new day, but tonight you can just rest in his arms, safe in the knowledge that no matter what, everything will be okay.
-
When you slowly open your eyes the next morning, you can still feel the warmth of Spencer lying next to you. His arm is around you and your legs are intertwined. A smile spreads across your face. It's such a simple moment, but it's full of love and security. You feel incredibly lucky to have him by your side, especially after all the uncertainty of last night.
But as you lie in his arms, you still feel the tightening in your stomach. It’s the same pain that accompanied you all day yesterday. But then you notice something else, something that confuses you. A light, damp feeling in your underwear. You furrow your eyebrows and carefully pull away from Spencer's embrace so you don’t wake him up.
You slowly walk to the bathroom to go to the toilet and when you look, your eyes widen. You've got your period this night. You breathe out deeply and feel a hint of disappointment run through your body. You sit back and stare at the floor. In the last few hours, after the conversation with Spencer and all the thoughts, you felt so safe. And now it's just... not like that.
You got your period, but not the life you imagined since last night. A quiet, almost imperceptible sigh escapes you. It‘s is simply over before it even really begins. Suddenly the thought of having a baby doesn't seem so strange anymore. There is a slight pain in your chest, you're not pregnant. Maybe you wanted it, more than you thought.
When you come back into the bedroom, Spencer is just sitting up sleepily, his eyes still half closed. “Are you okay?” he asks in a soft, concerned voice. You snuggle back to him. “Yes. No. I
 I don’t know,” you say quietly, “I got my period, Spence. I’m not pregnant,” you say.
“Then it was because of all the stress in the last few weeks that you got it later this time
,” he says and pauses for a moment. “Are you
 are you feeling okay? You sound kind of sad,” he slowly adds and runs his fingers over your hand. He knows how much you like this gesture, you told him it feels somehow soothing to you.
You stay silent for a moment. "I... it's just like that earlier, when I noticed that I wasn't pregnant after all... it felt kind of strange. Like something was missing. I prepared for it after last night and now that I know that we're not expecting a baby, it
 it makes me kind of sad,” you tell him and take his hand to intertwine your fingers.
“Do you feel ready for this? For a baby?” His voice is calm, but you see him trying to grasp your uncertainty. He's searching for an answer, just like you. It feels like you're both in uncharted territory. You hesitate for a moment, the room becomes quieter, and then you speak slowly, almost carefully.
“Yes, I do. Yesterday I was so overwhelmed because it was so unexpected and we never really talked about it before. But now that I know I'm not pregnant it makes me sad. I've imagined what it would be like to have baby with you, Spence. And I realized that I really want that,” you say and shift closer to him.
Spencer smiles at you. "I would also like to have a baby with you. I had to think about it last night too. I would be ready to finally start my own family, with you by my side. That would be my biggest dream come true. If you want we can start trying,” he says as he holds in his arms.
The warmth of his body like a little refuge in this moment and you close your eyes. “Yes Spence, I would like that,” you say and give him a kiss before you continue. “I’m really the luckiest woman in the world. I can’t believe you’re my mine,” you whisper, almost in awe as you wrap his arm even tighter around you. “You’re just perfect.”
Spencer laughs. “I’m far from perfect,” he says with a smile, but you can tell he takes it with humor. You look at him, your eyes widening as you give him a soft kiss on the cheek and reply. "You're perfect in my eyes." He looks at you, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls you closer.
“This means everything to me. I love you so much." You give him a kiss. "I love you too." It's a moment full of warmth and you feel your heart become even more attached to him. In this moment, it's just the two of you and the world around you feels like a perfect little bubble, calm and full of love.
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foldingfittedsheets · 8 months ago
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So I went to Geek Girl Con this year and the best panel we attended was one where Librarians recommend your next spicy romance read and since they provided a list I figured I'd share the list because why the hell not? I don’t know how long they will leave the link up sorry All synopsis will be what I remembered from the panel without any research into the title so buckle up! I feel like it's pretty obvious which ones I was more interested in based on what I remember.
Triple Sec - Spice Level 2 Queer/Fiction
This is a poly plot wherein a cynical bartender gets swept up in a new romance with a lady in an open marriage and then sparks start between all three.
Band Sinister - Spice Level 4 Queer/Period
A period romance between two guys, the local playboy and our leading lad who meets the local playboy when his sister gets into an accident on the guy’s property. He finds a lovely community very different than the rake's reputation suggested and gets drawn into a romance against his better judgement.
Here We Go Again - Spice Level 2 Queer/Fiction
A wlw romance between two girls with a history who need to go on a roadtrip together and reconnect on the drive. Childhood friends I think?
Payback's a Witch - Spice Level 2 Queer/Fantasy
A wlw romance between Emmy and Talia (I'm cheating I've read this one before and liked it). Emmy left her hometown and magic behind after an embarrassing rejection from the most powerful magical family's scion. She comes back into town and finds her best friend and the stunning Talia have both now been wronged by the same guy. They convince Emmy to join a pact to get back at him together and Emmy and Talia grow closer through the power of revenge.
Act Your Age Eve Brown - Spice Level 2 Het/Fiction
A chaotic autistic female lead runs into a by the book boy after one of them gets hit by the others car and she ends up staying with him. They form a very sweet bond and the representation was lauded as being very precious.
Merry Inkmas - Spice Level 4 Het/Fiction
A cool alternative barista gets fired in front of her crush for giving a homeless man a free coffee and her crush hires her on the spot to work for him instead. They start up a relationship that he warns has an expiration date which suits her fine- or does it? Hijinks ensue.
D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding - Spice Level 4 Queer/Fiction
A wlw romance under false pretenses, they agree to get married for a reality TV show. There's an influencer and a shy one can’t remember who’s who, the shy one decided national television is a good way to come out to her family. As the competition continues real feelings start to rear their head between the two.
The Prospects - Spice Level 4 Queer/Fiction
Uhhhh baseball boys? The boys play baseball... mlm romance. Baseball.
Something Wild and Wonderful - Spice Level 3 Queer/Fiction
Two guys are both hiking a grueling trail from Mexico to Canada. After running into each other repeatedly they strike up a connection and eventually a relationship. One of the guys is still spiritual despite rejection from the church and it's healing for the other guy.
Prince and Assassin - Spice Level 4 Queer/Fantasy
An assassin is sent on a mission to take out a prince. While waiting for his orders to pull the dagger the two men grow closer and the assassin realizes he may not be able to kill off the prince as he learns more about him- but his sister's life is forfeit if he fails. Dramaaaaa
After Hours on Milagro Street - Spice Level 5 Het/Fiction
I cheated and had to refresh my memory as I fully forgot the plot. A bar is entrusted to new management in the form of a tattooed tough lady. A child of the family who's always run it takes issue with her management and sparks fly as they learn to compromise.
The Pairing - Spice Level 5 Queer/Fiction
A couple breaks up before taking an amazing food tour across Europe and neither goes. With their tickets to the tour about to expire both decide to say screw it and go anyway, presuming that they couldn't possibly run into each other. They do. They they proceed to try to out slut each other while eating delicious food to prove how over each other they are. They aren't.
Hunt the Stars - Spice Level 3 Het/Sci fi
Human/alien pairing I think? As a bounty hunting crew takes a dangerous job and in the midst of peril find undeniable chemistry despite some fraught history between the two species.
A Holly Jolly Ever After - Spice Level 5 Het/Fiction
A previous child actor has found herself in a loveless marriage. She finally breaks free of her husband and takes a huge hit to her public image. She takes a job on a Hallmark style Christmas movie with another previous child star boyband. He has always had a crush on her and while paired as romantic leads on the film she admits to him she's never had an orgasm. We can see where this is going.
Morning Glory Milking Farm - Spice Level 5 Het/Fantasy
Stay with me. Minotaur. Milking. Farms. But it's not milk, guys. So a down on her luck girl takes a great paying job on a farm which I think is like phone sex? and makes a connection with one of the beefy boys get it. Genuinely tactful conversations around consent despite the goofy premise. Monster fuckers will enjoy.
Hate to Want You - Spice Level 5 Het/Fiction
Romeo and Juliet style warring families who hate each other because of grocery stores, I think. A boy and girl get together once a year and hate fuck each other about it but things get hard when she moves back into town for real and they keep bumping into each other.
Consort of Fire - Spice Level 5 Queer/Fantasy
A princess and knight go to take down a dragon but wind up falling for him instead? I feel like that's enough said. Poly dynamic and dragons, that's all it took for me to put in a hold.
Dating Dr. Dil - Spice Level 3 Het/Fiction
Fake dating a hot doctor to get her family off her back. 'Nough said.
Satisfaction Guaranteed - Spice Level 2 Queer/Fiction
A lady inherits a sex toy shop and drops her job to try to save it. The store manager doesn't think much of her and they both have to work together to get the shop back on its feet.
Role Playing - Spice Level 3 Het/Fiction
A forties lady joins a message board for gaming and strikes up a conversation with someone she assumes is a teenager. The guy thinks he's talking to a grandma. They meet and realize they're in the same age bracket and have a lot in common.
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zegrasdrysdale · 7 months ago
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hi!!! i’m a big sucker for secret relationships lol could you please do a matthew knives one where she is mitch marners younger sister and they have been secretly dating and mitch finds out in a bad way and it’s kind of angsty but then everything works out? thank you for your time!!
[ my little secret ] m. knies
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paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader
summary : Matthew and his girlfriend accidentally expose their entire eight month relationship after he gets hurt during a game, and Mitch isn't very happy about it
warning(s) : angst galore (but w a happy ending), mentions of injury, injured!kniesy, occasional use of y/n
author’s note : wanted to write something angsty and decided to knock out a request at the same time. enjoy and sorry this request took so long <33
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The game is going okay. Right now, the Leafs are up 2-1 against rival Boston. Her brother has assists on both Toronto goals while Matthew scored the go-ahead goal about halfway through the third. The Leafs defense is playing great defense and blocking shots from the Bruins. The forwards are keeping Boston from getting any momentum when they hop over the boards for each shift.
This is probably the best the Leafs have looked all season against a surging Boston team that struggled at the beginning of the season.
It's not long after Matthew scores the go-ahead goal that Boston begins to show some frustration. Their physical players begin to get a little more physical, laying more hits on the Leafs players. The Leafs are taking those hits like champs and some are returning the same physicality.
Until Brad Marchand lays a hard hit on Matt and he lands awkwardly on his outstretched arm. Her boyfriend curls up on the ice around the arm he landed on and a whistle is blown. A member of the training staff is immediately on the ice to look at Matthew.
She stands up with the crowd around her, hands covering her mouth as she waits for Matt to stand up. The crowd at Scotiabank Arena is so quiet, she should hear a pin drop from the other side of the stands.
It feels like an eternity later when Matt gets up on his own. The crowd claps for him, but she's too focused on the fact that he's holding his left arm close to his body. Mitch skates right behind him with his stick, which is hands to the equipment manager while Matthew goes down the tunnel.
With about five minutes left in the period and the Leafs up in the game, she makes her way down to the hallway that contains the in-arena gym, locker room, equipment room, and the athletic training room where Matt probably is.
She shows her credentials before she's let into the hallway. The horn on the ice sounds and the crowd cheers, signaling either a goal or a Leafs win. She's not sure how much time has gone by by the time she is standing outside the training room door.
After knocking lightly, she pushes open the door a little bit to get a look at her boyfriend. She sees Matthew on one of the tables half undressed. He only has on his shorts, socks, and skates. His gear is on the floor with his jersey and compression shirt.
The doctor notices her before Matt does. "Sorry, but you can't be he-"
"It's fine," Matt winces as the doctor presses on his wrist. "She's here for me anyway. Come on in, (Y/N)."
She steps into the medical room and walks up to Matt on the table. His doctor keeps pressing on and examining his wrist. He has Matt wiggle his fingers, tests his wrist flexion, and he finds the most painful points.
All while Matt winces in pain. A second horn goes off and the crowd above them cheers. The song that usually plays after a Leafs win starts to play, which means the boys will be making their way back to the locker room any second.
"Well, good news is that your wrist isn't broken," the doctor explains to Matt. "But I do think you have a mild sprain. I'd like to get scans done in the morning to confirm."
"And how long will I be out?" Matt asks.
"With rest and recovery, two weeks minimum," his doctor replies. "If you come back too early, it could be longer so I suggest staying off the ice until I clear you to return to practice. We'll come back and reassess a week from tomorrow once I confirm the sprain then come up with a plan to return to play. Until then, rest. I'll give you a brace you can use for the next few days."
Matt nods and the doctor walks off to find a brace that he'll use for a while. She intertwines her fingers with his as soon as the doctor has his back turned to them. He looks up at her with big, sad eyes. She frowns at the sight of a sad Matthew Knies.
This is a risky moment for both of them given where they're at, but she couldn't help but touch him and show him that she's here for him since she can't say anything right now. Not with the team doctor ten feet away from them.
The doctor turns around and she pulls their fingers apart. Matt holds out his injured wrist so the doctor can show him how to put the brace on. "How does it feel?" he asks Matt. "Not too snug?"
"Nope," he replies. "Comfortable."
"Good," the doctor says. "I want to see you back here in the morning for some x-rays and other tests to rule out breaks or internal damage. Okay?"
Matt nods and the doctor claps him on the back. He leaves the room, probably to go tell the coaching staff about his injury. Matt sighs and reaches to grab his compression shirt when he hops off the table.
She glances at the door to make sure no one walks in before she pulls Matthew into a hug by his torso once his shirt is on.
"I'm so sorry you got hurt, Matty," she softly says into his chest. "That hit looked bad. It could've been so much worse. I'm so glad it wasn't."
"I'm still benched for at least a week," Matt sighs. He runs his fingers through her wavy locks before he cradles her head against his body. "I'll be staying here while the boys go out on that west coast roadie. I was looking forward to some California sun after a few inches of snow over the weekend."
There's a hint of amusement in his voice, but she doesn't find it very funny. She peels her face off his chest and looks up at him. "It's not funny, Matthew," she tells him. "You got hurt. You avoided what may have been a season ending injury, but you still got hurt. None of this is very funny to me, and you're cracking jokes about missing out on the California sun."
He realizes what his words were and quickly becomes apologetic. "I'm sorry, baby," he says. "No injury is funny, even one as minor as mine."
"I thought you were really hurt, Matty," she admits. "When you were down on the ice. I thought that something was broken or torn while you were lying there. What if this was worse than a wrist sprain and you were making jokes about missing games?"
Matthew's healthy hand slides to cup her face. He rubs his thumb along her cheekbone and frowns. "I'm okay," he whispers to her. "I'm okay. Nothing is torn or broken or dislocated. It's just a sprain. It's not season ending and I'll be back on the ice in a week. It just sucks that I'm out at all."
She presses her face back into his chest and he engulfs her in a hug. He buries his head into her hair and presses a kiss to her temple. "You're okay," she echoes. "Thank God you're okay."
He softly hums into her hair. She looks up at him at the same time he tilts her head up. Matthew leans down since his skates give him a little extra inches to his six-foot-three frame. Their lips meet in a soft kiss when she gets on her tiptoes. Her hands grasp at his shorts to give her some stablity.
They stand like that longer than they probably should, but she can't help but kiss him. All her anxiety about the last fifteen minutes melt away the longer the kiss goes.
The door opens and she hears her brother's voice. "How you doing in here, Kniesy?" Mitch questions. They both jump away from each other and look at Mitch, who stops in his tracks when he sees his little sister in the training room with his teammate. "(Y/N), why are you-- with Matthew? Kissing Matthew?"
She quickly looks between her brother and her boyfriend. "I, um ..." she trails off. Then Mitch angrily starts toward the two of them with a look in his eyes that she's seen before when the two of them caught an ex cheating on her. "Mitchy, stop." She tries to push against him with little success.
"My little sister?" Mitch asks as he shoves Matthew. "Are you kidding me?" Matt stumbles backward a little bit since he's still in his skates. She grabs at Mitch's t-shirt to try and stop him, but he overpowers her for a second time.
"Mitch," she tries again. "Enough. I'm an adult. I'm allowed to be with whoever I want to be with."
Mitch looks back at her. "This is my teammate, (Y/N)," he tells her. "My goddamn linemate most games, and you're in here kissing him? He's one of my closest friends and you're, what, hooking up with him behind my back?"
"It's not like that-" Matthew tries to say.
"And you," Mitch interrupts. "My little fucking sister. I trusted you and you go and do something like this? Are you actually kidding me? God, I can't believe you. Either of you. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? That my sister and one of my teammates snuck around my best for who knows how long. Snuck around at my house, my second home."
She looks at Matt, who looks genuinely terrified of what's happening right now. "Mitch, can you listen to me for a second before you start talking about something you know nothing about?" she asks. "There is a lot more to this story than you think."
Her brother rubs his face and shakes his head. "I don't think there's anything you can tell me that I don't already know-"
"I am in love with him, Mitch!" she shouts. "We're not just hooking up or anything like that. We're actually together. I love him and he loves me. If you would listen instead of assuming things then you'd know that."
It looks like someone slapped her brother across the face when she admits to him that she loves Matt. His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. He looks between the two of them. She takes a few steps backward so she's standing beside her boyfriend while her eyes stay on Mitch.
Mitch blinks at them for a second before he says, "I need a little bit. I just need a second before we continue this conversation because I'm beyond angry and feeling very betrayed right now. Do what the two of you want because you're going to do it anyway but please do not talk to me while I'm on this roadie. Okay?"
They both nod and Mitch turns to walk out of the room. She lets out the breath that she was holding before she looks up at Matthew, who has color in his face again.
"We should've told him when we got together," Matt tells her without looking at her. "He's right. He's one of my closest friends and he's my linemate on the ice. I shouldn't have messed with that chemistry. It might affect our on ice performance, which is going to mess with the whole team's performance. Oh my God."
"Matthew," she sighs as she steps in front of him. "Hey. I made that choice too. He's my brother and I thought he'd get angrier if we told him at first. These eight months have shown us that we love each other and that I want this forever. If we told him at first, it wouldn't have given us that chance. I don't regret not telling him because we had that time to ourselves to figure us out. I'll talk to him when he gets back from the roadie and it'll be okay. I promise."
He nods. "I need to go get changed then we can go," he tells her. "Wish me luck that he doesn't throw any of his gear at me in the locker room."
"You have my full permission to throw something back at him."
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The week and a half that the roadie takes feels like forever. All she can do is watch her brother enter a slump while on the west coast. She respects his wishes and doesn't text or call him while he's on the road, but it's one of the hardest things she's ever had to do.
Matthew gets clears to go non-contact on the ice eight days after the initial injury. Brad Marchand was given a two game suspension and a large fine for intent to injure. At least, that's what the NHL Department of Player Safety announced the day after his hit on Matt. She sits at the Leafs practice building while she watches Matt work on some stickhandling and skating drills by himself.
It's two weeks after the game versus Boston when Mitch reaches out to his little sister.
from: big bro mitchy <3 - 3:09 pm can i come over ? to talk. i think im ready to talk
to: big bro mitchy <3 - 3:11 pm yeah. matt's here too, if that's okay
He doesn't respond, but she lets Matt know that Mitch is coming over to her apartment. They both sit on the couch when a knock announces Mitch's arrival.
She opens the door and Mitch walks into the apartment without a greeting. She's on his heels when he walks into the living room. Matt stands up to face Mitch.
"You better treat her right, Knies," Mitch tells him. She blinks in total confusion. "I mean it, Matt. If I find out that you hurt her in any way, I'll put your ass back on IR faster than you can blink. Got it?" He nods in response. "Now, can I have a few minutes alone with my sister? I have some things I need to say to her and I don't need you in the room while I do."
Matt quickly disappears down the hallway to her bedroom. The door distantly clicks shut and Mitch turns to her. She stands straight up as she faces her brother.
They look at each other for a second before she concedes first. "I am so sorry that neither of us told you about our relationship," she says. "But I'm going to tell you that I don't regret not telling you. Matt and I needed some time to figure out how we work together before we told anyone. Then we were together longer and longer and we thought you would be so mad that we didn't tell you-"
"Oh, I'm mad alright," Mitch interrupts her. "I mean, there are millions of people in the Toronto area that you could've started a relationship with. There are hundreds of players in the league itself and you chose to enter a relationship with my linemate of all people."
"You're angry because I'm dating someone on your team? she asks. "Of all the reasons to be angry, you're mad because I fell in love with Matt? Mitch, that's you're fault. You're the one that introduced us because Matt was a rookie in a big city and I'm about as old as he is. You thought that we could lean on each other since I also had just moved to Toronto to pursue a career."
"I didn't think you'd date him," Mitch retorts. "Let alone fall in love with him."
She rolls her eyes. "I can't help who I fall in love with and you should know that," she spits at him.
Mitch sighs and rubs his face. "I'm just trying to look out for you," he tells her. "You're my little sister."
"And he's one of your closest friends so you should know what kind of guy he is," she replies. "I'm 23, Mitch. I don't need you looking out for me. Believe me when I say that I very hesitantly started a relationship with Matt because I know how hockey players can be. He quickly showed me that he's not like other hockey players. He genuinely loves me, more than any of my previous boyfriends ever have."
Her brother frowns at her. "I just wish I could have watched you fall in love," he explains. "And know you were falling in love. I only find out you're in love and in a very serious relationship months later. I don't want to know how many months later but months later. It sucks not being able to watch my little sister grow up and find love until after."
Okay, she never thought of it like that. She never thought that it took away an opportunity for Mitch to watch her grow up a little bit, or find love. He was there for all her other relationships. Why not this one?
"I'm sorry, Mitchy," she softly tells him. "I really am. I don't want you to be mad because this is the best relationship I've ever been in. I'm sorry I took away watching me fall in love, but I didn't want to fall in love under the close eye of my older brother. Especially not when my boyfriend is his teammate. I needed to find me and how I worked with Matt. That's it. That's why neither of us told you."
He wraps his arms around her shoulders and envelopes her in a hug. She sighs and wraps his arms around his torso. "I could never be mad at you for very long," he admits. "I needed some time to think about what I was going to say to you when I calmed down. I didn't want to say something I might regret. I get why neither of you told me now."
"We wanted to so many times but it was never the right time," she says. "We were going to say something before the end of last season, then you were so focused on playoffs that we couldn't. Then the Boston series happened, and that wasn't the best time either. Then it was the offseason and we decided to wait even longer. Then this season started and it never seemed like the best time because the two of you had some great on ice chemistry. So we waited and waited until it was too late and it never felt like the right time."
Her brother backs away the hug and looks her in the eyes. "I don't want you to ever not tell me something because you think hockey is in the way," he sternly tells her. "I mean it. You're way more important than hockey will ever be. If you have something to tell me, then tell me next time, okay?"
She nods in response. "Got it," she softly says.
"By the way, I kind of knew something was up with you because you were around a lot more often than you were before," Mitch admits. "But you were always wearing my jersey so I thought it was because you really liked watching hockey. I had no idea it was because you were dating Matt. It makes sense looking back on it now."
A laugh passes her lips before she can stop it. "Hate to break it to you but it was because of Matt," she tells him. "I didn't wear his jersey because that would've meant telling you, which neither of us were ready for."
Mitch smiles at her. "I know," he says. "You look happy. I've never seen you this happy or in love before. It looks good on you, little sister."
"Thank you, big brother," she replies. "Can Matt come out now or are you going to give him the big brother talk?"
"Oh, I'll give that to him in the locker room," he laughs. "I'll tell you that you're allowed to wear his jersey now since I know. You've probably wanted to wear it before so you can now."
"Awesome," she says. "I've worn your jersey for too long. It's Matt's turn."
Footsteps echo down the hallway before they emerge into the living room. "I wasn't eavesdropping or anything but I heard that I could come out," Matt's voice says behind her. She turns her head and looks at her boyfriend. "Are we okay?"
Mitch walks up to her boyfriend and Matt sharply inhales. Her older brother holds out his hand. "We're good," he tells his linemate. "We're going to have our own talk though because that is my little sister you are involved with."
"Understood," Matt replies.
With a huge smile on her face, she runs up to Matt and wraps herself around his torso. "My favorite boys are friends again," she says as she looks up at Matt. "And you're no longer my little secret."
"I better be the first person you tell when you put a ring on her finger, Knies," Mitch warns. "Or bad things will happen."
"I'll come to you and ask for your permission to marry her if it'll make you feel better," Matt replies. "When we eventually get to that point."
"Good," her brother says. "I'll get out of your hair. I just wanted to come talk to you guys for a second. I'm going out with Steph for an early dinner but I didn't want you guys to think I hated you."
The boys give their version of a hug goodbye. Mitch presses a kiss to her temple before leaving. She looks at Matt.
"Feel better?" she asks. "Knowing it's not going to mess with your on ice chemistry now?"
"A little."
"What will help you feel even better?"
"I think you already know." Matt takes a step backward down the hall that leads to her bedroom.
She grins. "I like the way you think, Kniesy."
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