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#before it turns you into a person you never wanted to be
peachesofteal · 2 days
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Cool Girl
Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / previous
Johnny breaks first.
His face fractures, fault lines cracking into the crust of the earth, splitting and shredding the land as everything fissures apart.
You’re suddenly aware of the smell in this bar. Cheap beer and fake butter on stale popcorn, cigarettes wafting from the open back door.
It turns your stomach.
Johnny glances from you, to Simon, hesitant. He’s always so sure footed, falling into the three person waltz that was, so easily.
Simon grimaces. “Sweet girl-“
“Don’t.” You hiss, batting his hand away. “Why did you do that?” You furiously try to wipe your cheeks clean, but they stay damp, tears flowing against your will as your lower lip trembles. “What is wrong with you?!”
“Ye shouldnae be goin’ home with us, not some stranger. Ye dinnae even know him! He looks like a… bawbag.”
“He was nice!” The words burn in your throat. “He was nice to me, and sweet, and actually liked me.” You choke on a sob, hands balled into fists.
“We don’t want you going home with some stranger.” Simon deadpans, and you jerk back like he’s struck you.
“Excuse me?” Your tears turn cold, and rage pulses behind your eyes.
“We need to talk to ye, love. We can- we can work this out, we just want to talk.”
“No.” The walls are spinning, swirling into a kaleidoscope of black and grey, tequila unsettled in your stomach. You press your palm to the space above your navel, trying to ground yourself. They track it, noticing every single detail, every single movement, as they always do.
“No?” Simon echoes.
“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s cool.” You swallow your nausea, and shrug. “I get it.”
“I dinnae think ye do. Please let us-“
“Just… stop.” You wilt, energy from the evening drastically disappearing by the minute. You step away, and the physical distance helps regulate your breathing, helps clear your head. “It’s fine. I’m… good. We don’t need to talk.”
Silence descends… and they watch you carefully, closely. It’s never felt nefarious before, it’s never felt like predators stalking prey, but in this moment, it feels very much like you’re the rabbit… and they’re the fox.
“Let us get you home, sweetheart.” Your laughter is bitter, full of acid.
“Absolutely not.”
“Not to ours.” Johnny says softly. “Let us get ye home to yer flat at least.”
“I’m good.” You manage a queasy smile. “It’s cool.” And before your resolve crumbles, before your heart leaps from your chest, before they even open their mouths, you push past them and stalk down the hall.
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Yandere! Choso Kamo x Reader
Description: You start receiving sweet, anonymous love notes from a secret admirer which start turning perverted over time.
Trigger Warnings: 7.4k words, nsfw, college AU, yandere, afab reader, obsessive love, virgin choso, CREEP CHOSO, pervert choso, stalker choso, masturbation, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), choso is kinda pathetic, he calls reader princess, reader is lowkey into choso stalking her, dark themes
Not edited!
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I wish you could grasp the exquisite beauty you hold in my eyes. ♡︎
Your eyes widened as you read the note placed in front of you on your desk, heat rushing to your cheeks. Surely this person must be mistaken, was this note really directed at you? You looked around the empty classroom wondering who could’ve possibly left this note on your desk and if they were even in this class. Even if you weren’t sure if the note was for you, suppressing the smile that was forming in your face felt impossible. Nobody had ever said anything like this to you before. Sure, people found you attractive, but the way this was written almost felt innocent— like there was no malicious intent behind it. The complete opposite of what most men that approached you were like.
You traced your hand over the neat calligraphy, feeling your heart rate speed up at the thought of someone truly thinking this about you. You couldn’t help yourself from reading it over and over, allowing your lips to curl up knowing no one was around to see you smiling at a paper like an idiot.
Unbeknownst to you, a tall, pale man with dark hair styled in space buns, stood there observing you discretely through the small window of the amphitheater door. Your reaction to his note caused his heart to leap with joy, the sight of your smile held the power to brighten even his darkest days. Your response to his message only inspired him to dedicate his time to write you more notes that would make you feel as flustered as he was by you when you spared him a single glance.
Choso stepped away from the door smoothly when he started hearing voices approaching from down the hall, pretending to be entertained by his phone. He glanced at the time on the screen, noticing it was almost time for class, but he opted to wait for everyone else to walk in before him. He always did this. Never had he been alone with you in the classroom even though he always arrived before you. He always stood behind a wall watching you stride gracefully into class earlier than everyone else. You were such a smart, punctual, responsible girl and he admired that greatly. He loathed never being capable of being alone with you, knowing he would be a blushing, horny mess— quite frankly, that’s not the first impression he wanted you to have of him.
Taking a deep breath, Choso walked in, making his way to his usual sit, two rows behind you, yet at a perfectly angle where he was able to contemplate your side profile. The moment he walked past you, your eyes locked. You offered him a small, cute smile and Choso wanted nothing more than to beam back at you, but instead he drifted his eyes away from yours, blushing in embarrassment. You exuded such kindness, always greeting him with the warmth of your pretty smile, even amidst the whispers and judgements surrounding his oddness. You kept smiling for him even when he didn’t smile back.
Choso was a very shy man. He didn’t know how to talk to girls, but that wasn’t something he was interested in doing before he met you. Dating had never been something he took interest in. Despite his brothers’ persistent attempts to orchestrate romantic encounters with women, they would always be left disheartened by Choso’s aloofness, proof of his disinterest in the affairs of the heart until he found you. None of them were like you.
The pale man proceeded his daily routine of observing you, not paying attention to what the professor was explaining. To him, this was his time to learn all your quirks and movements. His own personal course of you. Don’t you dare ask him anything on what the class is actually about because he’ll just answer with facts and observations about you. Like how you chew on the cap of your pen furiously when you don’t understand a subject or how you shift in your seat every few minutes because you just can’t seem to find a comfortable position to sit in.
He finds solace in studying your countenance, captivated by your vivid expressions, particularly your expressive eyes. The eyes are the windows of your soul, as they say. They unveil the depth of your emotions, he could tell when something was off about you by merely looking into your eyes— your feelings always danced within them. Being able to stare into your eyes without fear of rejection was one of his deepest desires in life. Feeling lost was a petrifying emotion, but losing himself to the never ending abysm that lived in your orbs was something he would never be apprehensive of.
You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. There isn’t a second in the day where you are not invading my thoughts. I wish I had the courage to speak to you.
Reading the note that was accompanied by a beautiful rose this time, you pouted, wondering why this person was so afraid to approach you. According to your own judgment, you gave off a friendly demeanor. If only you could figure out who was leaving you these notes. You weren’t afraid of approaching them first if they were too shy to do so themselves. You had been getting these notes for a month now and no matter how early you got to class this person always beat you to it. Deciding to form a plan to get this person to show themselves, you started brainstorming.
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You could never begin to comprehend the depths of Choso’s love for you. That’s why you would never understand his reasoning when he followed that disgusting man that harassed you on campus. You would never understood why he had to pull the man to an empty alley and make him suffer. Choso hated that he had been at work when it all went down, he wasn’t there to save you and he would never forgive himself for it.
He was lucky you were able to scape him, but nonetheless you would’ve never went through that horrifying situation if only he had been there to protect you. He came to the conclusion that he needed to know your location at all times. That’s why he pretended to bump into you as you made your way to your other class, slipping an AirTag into one of the pockets of your bag discreetly.
He could imagine look of fear in your eyes when this man tried putting his grimy hands on you— it was enough to drive Choso to violence. He wanted to cause that scum the same fear he had caused his precious girl. The lengths he would go for you were unimaginable. What would you think of him if you knew he had stabbed that man to death that night? Even through his internal turmoil about your perception of him, he couldn’t help but feel proud at what he had done for you. From the moment he saw you, he knew he was capable of anything just to keep you safe.
One thing he felt grandly ashamed of was his perverted thoughts. To him you were much more than just a sexual object, but he couldn’t stop his cock from getting hard at the trivial thought of you. Never before had he experienced sexual desire this intense before, because of that, he was still a virgin at his age. Losing his virginity had never even crossed his mind before. Yet, after he met you, he couldn’t stop imagining how pushing his length into your wet, tight heat would feel like.
Every night he would spend it scrolling endlessly through your social media— which he didn’t dare follow— and staring at your beautiful pictures, smiling at him so sweetly. Choso would stare at them intently, thrusting his cock into his fist desperately, moaning your name, imaging you were riding him vigorously trying to make yourself orgasm on his throbbing cock. Thinking about it was enough to make him explode all over his hand and well built abs. Abs he had spent hours at the gym working on to look good just for you. He wanted— no needed you to find him attractive, if he wanted you to only see him he had to make sure he looked his best.
He had trouble containing his excitement when you were around, you simply were too beautiful for your own good. Hence the reason he stood outside the window of your apartment jerking his cock as he watched you rubbing your swollen clit through the window. He wanted nothing more than to climb through the damn window and attach his hungry lips to your clit, which was just begging for his attention. It wasn’t the first time he watched you masturbate, it was clear as day that you needed some help, his help. When you accepted to be his, he would gladly service you every day and night. It didn’t matter how many times as long as you were satisfied, he promised to put your pleasure above his always.
Choso massaged his throbbing cock thoroughly, spreading the precum that leaked from his sensitive tip all over his shaft. He covered his mouth attempting to muffled his pathetic whimpers from being heard by you. He continued watching as you inserted two fingers into your tight cunt, making Choso’s eyes roll all the way to the back of his skull. He wished he could be the one pushing his digits inside of you. He was sure they would feel better than yours, his were so much bigger, they would reach depths you’ve never reached before. Gods, your moans were the most melodious sound he’d ever heard, you were driving him insane— he wasn’t going to be able to hold it much longer. He needed you to come with him. He didn’t deserve to come if you didn’t.
Your facial expressions were the sexiest thing he has ever witnessed. You were simply godly, there was no other way to describe you. The beads of sweat forming on your forehead and coating the rest of your body gave you a breathtaking glow. He needed to taste your skin, kiss and run his tongue all over your delectable body. “Please…” Choso didn’t know what he was begging for, what he did know was how badly he wanted you. His twitching cock was proof of that.
Choso could see your face contort in pleasure. He learned by watching you so often that, when you made that expression, it meant you were close to reaching your peak. He felt relieved knowing that he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. “Let’s come together, princess. P-please, give this to me.” He uttered in a hushed tone, moaning your name lowly.
He shivered as you started fingering yourself at a quicker pace, arching your back. It was almost like you were inviting him to ogle at your heaving breasts, your nipples he so badly wanted to take in his mouth, noticeably perky through the thin fabric of your oversized shirt. Choso would make sure to provide you with a lifetime supply of his shirts, you would never feel obligated to buy an oversized shirt ever again.
Your jaw slacked open as you let it all out, making Choso undergo through a confusing sense of jealousy over your own fingers, yearning to feel you releasing your sweet nectar around his cock instead. Breath heaving, he fisted his pulsing cock a couple of more times, enjoying the sound of the lewd noises that came out of your perfect lips, before spraying an copious amount semen on the ground. He tugged on his cock a few more time, coming down from his high at the same time as you.
“Goodnight, I love you.” His voice barely a sigh as he whispered longingly. He tucked himself back into his pants swiftly before pressing a soft kiss into the tip of his fingers to then drag them it across your reflection in the window. He jumped recalling he should’ve been at his place by now, having lost track of time completely, knowing he had to prepare dinner for his brothers. So with one last look at you, he disappeared into the night.
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When Choso arrived to the amphitheater he was surprised to see a note on your desk already. He quickly approached it, grabbing the note, recognizing your handwriting right away.
I want to meet you.
He stilled in place at the five words scribbled on the paper. You were actually interested in finding out who he was? Choso couldn’t decipher what your intent was, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted you to know your secret admirers identity just yet. He knew you were well aware of the swirling rumors about him, everyone painted him as nothing more than a freak. His demeanor remained reserved and he preferred solitude over companionship, which only fueled the disdain others had towards his persona. He wanted to believe you would never see him in such way, but there was always something stabbing him on the side, whispering the possibility that you, too, might harbor the same prejudices as them.
Choso opted to respond to your message briefly, accompanying it by one of your favorite treats before rushing out of the classroom, aware that you would arrive at any moment.
Just like that, exactly one minutes later you entered through the opposite door Choso exited from. You took notice of the note on your desk from afar and quickened your pace towards it in excitement. Smiling, you inspected the treat placed right next to it. How this person knew what your favorite things to snack on were, remained a mystery to you, but it didn’t bother you as long as they kept them coming. Grabbing the note and opening it, your smile disappeared only to reappear in Choso’s face as he watched your reaction. Your facial expression were just so funny to him sometimes.
No. ♡︎
“The fuck?” You exclaimed out loud in disbelief. No? Just no?! You pondered the ulterior motives of this individual. Had they just been playing a month long prank on you this whole time? Visibly frustrated, you plopped down into your seat, glancing at the note once again to make sure you were reading correctly.
Choso felt guilt wash over him when he saw you get genuinely upset, yet he couldn’t suppress the soft giggle that escaped his mouth at how cute you looked when you were mad. He despised that he made you feel this way, but he would reveal himself to you when he was ready and now, was not the right time.
Routinely, he lingered behind for everyone to enter ahead of him before making his entrance. Like he always did, he passed by your row, his eyes inevitably sought yours yearning for that connection he felt with them. This time, an impulse seized Choso, deciding to give you a tentative smile only to not be greeted by your own— mirroring the same coldness he always showed you each time you beamed at him. Bewildered and wounded, he hurried to his seat feeling like he just received a punch in the gut. Was your behavior due to your exasperation at the note or was it because you allowed everyone to taint your mind with the rumors about him?
The pain he felt by your indifference towards him lingered in his chest. Choso spent the whole lecture overthinking, anxiety building in his stomach and causing him to tremble. There was one thing he was completely certain of.
He hated when you didn’t smile for him.
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Gloom filled the rest of Choso’s day ever since you decided to stab him in the heart with your frown. Today he had the evening free from his job and he decided to spend it staring at your pictures with a leaky, throbbing erection straining against his sweatpants. He didn’t deserve to ease himself after the events that transpired today. Staring at one of his favorite pictures of you smiling so prettily, he ran his thumb desirously over your face through the screen of his phone. He fantasized about the softness of your skin as he cupped your gorgeous face in his big hands before pressing his lips to yours. He ran his fingers over his chapped lips imagining how they would feel rubbing against your soft ones.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door of his room slam open, holding his phone to his chest securely before facing whoever forced him break out of his delusions. “Yo, bro where’s the—“ Yuji cut himself off when he saw the strange position his brother was in. “You’re not watching porn are you?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Choso.
This caused Choso to shake his head rapidly, with widened eyes. “W-what? Of course not, Yuji! What is it that you need?” He inquired eager to usher his brother out of his room with utmost haste.
Yuji smiled slyly, sliding into his bed. “What are hiding, bro?” He curiously interrogated his older brother, wiggling his eyebrows comically.
Choso chuckled nervously, his grasp on his phone tightened against his chest. “N-nothing, just scrolling, heh.” Way to go, Choso, you can never hide anything from your prying brother. This caused Yuji to snicker, throwing himself towards Choso, fighting him for his cellphone. “Don’t think I don’t see your raging boner, bro. Let me see what you’re looking at!” He joked, attempting to force his phone out of his iron grip.
“Why are you even looking there, brother? Gross!” Choso quipped back, his voice muffled by his brothers hand on his face. With a victorious laugh, Yuji suspended his arm in the air seeing Choso’s phone in his hand.
Yuji quickly unlocked his older brother’s phone because, of course, he had no passcode. “Whoa, she’s so pretty. Who is this?” He exclaimed in astonishment, scrolling through your profile, bamboozled at the fact that his virgin brother was finally taking interest in an actual girl.
“Yuji, please just give me my phone back.” Choso sighed in defeat, not wanting to talk to his brother about his obsessive love for you.
“Is she your crush?” Yuji questioned playfully, dragging the last word. Choso furrowed his eyebrows together, before nodding awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. His younger brother erupted in a boisterous laugh, rolling on his bed like a madman. “About damn time, bro! I was staring to think you were going to die alone— wait, why aren’t you following her?” Yuji inquired, confused by what he was seeing on the phone screen.
“I— we’ve never really talked.” Choso sheepishly admitted, heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment.
“Unacceptable. Let’s talk to her now!” Immediately after that suggestion, Choso ripped his phone from Yuji’s hand.
“Are you insane? She’s gonna think I’m a creep!” Which he was, but he didn’t need his brother knowing that.
Yuji shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, so help me understand. You don’t talk to her and she doesn’t talk to you. I bet you can barely look at her in the eye. How exactly do you plan on getting your crush to evolve, bro? Are you going to pine in secret forever? Do you think one day she’ll come to our door asking for your hand in marriage out of nowhere?” I wish.
“You know what?” Yuji snatched Choso’s phone back, smirking, before pressing the follow button.
“Yuji, no!” Choso pulled his space buns in frustration, falling back on his bed. He glanced at the watch on his nightstand knowing you most likely had your phone on your hand at this hour. There was no way you would miss the notification.
“Chill, bro, it’s done. You’re welcome!” Yuji beamed as he threw Choso’s phone back to his chest, his grin radiating with accomplishment as he rose from the bed, making his way out of the room with a satisfied stride. Choso groaned, covering his face with hands as he blushed furiously. Not even a minute after Yuji walked out of the room he felt his phone vibrate and Choso’s heart almost came out through his mouth when he saw the notification.
You followed him back.
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The next day you walked through the door of the amphitheater with a gleeful spring in your step— your frustrations from yesterday seemingly dissipated. You decided you weren’t going to force whoever was sending you notes to show themselves. They have the right to remain hidden if that’s what they truly desired and you weren’t one to beg anyone for anything. If something was bound to happen with your secret admirer, it would.
As per usual, a folded paper laid on your desk, but you were quick to take notice of the white paper bag that stood next to it. You furrowed your eyebrows as curiosity took over you, almost skipping towards it. The note was brief and straight to the point.
Would you wear this for me?
As you blinked, a sense of puzzlement washed over you upon reading the note. Now they’re sending you clothing items? The bag, securely sealed with tape, offered no deterrent as you swiftly tore it open. Instantly, a surge or heat flooded your cheeks at the sight of its contents. You moved your gaze around, making sure no one was around before pulling out a box that held a pair of panties, colored a deep purple, made out of lace, see through material. Oh, but they weren’t just any panties, it was one of those vibrating underwear that was controlled by someone else with a controller.
You couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing right now. Out of all the endless note you had received from them, this was way out of the ordinary. None of them had shown anything sexual, not even innuendos. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t know wether to feel disrespected or severely turned on at the thought of your secret admirer controlling the vibrations during class. You bit you lips giving it some thought before nodding with determination. You shoved the panties back in the bag, advancing out of the classroom in direction to the restroom.
Choso watched in disbelief as you walked out, scarcely able to believe that you were actually going to wear his gift. Today, he had woken up feeling bold and after the confidence boost he got from you the night before, he had decided to procure something a little more special for you. After you followed him back, he saw it as a signal that you didn’t see him as everyone else did. Perhaps you two would be meeting sooner than he had anticipated, yet first, he wanted to test the waters.
He needed to assess the extent of your willingness to invest in him without even knowing his identity. He would’ve never guessed this would be something that excited him at this extent, his cock was fully erect as he eagerly waited for you to come back. He wished he could see the way those panties would cling to your hips and ass— something told him he would sooner than later. He had specifically bought that color to match his hoodie, which he was wore today in hopes you would wear his gift. And you did.
By the time you were back, everyone had settled to their seats already, including Choso. The moment you stepped into the classroom, he pressed the button in its lowest setting drawing a whimper from your lips, making everyone turn their attention towards you. Your eyes widened, swiftly offering an awkward, yet apologetic smile before ushering to your seat. While you were in the restroom you were able to catch sight of what the box the panties came in said— your secret admirer had failed to notice that the box indicated that the vibrations were controlled by a close-range remote control. Now you were able to confirm that your admirer was in this very class.
Choso smirked as he watched you take a seat, nobody else noticed, but there was a slight wobble to your walk— only a person that observed you constantly could differentiate from you usual stride. He proceeded to change the vibrations to the medium setting, almost chuckling out loud when he saw you jump slightly at the sudden change of speed. He could only imagine how wet your cunt was getting. Such a dirty girl, getting off to being controlled by a man she doesn’t even know in front of everyone. Would you be able to orgasm like this?
The pale man had to contain a hiss as he palmed his throbbing cock over his pants under the table, desiring nothing more than to give it to you on the spot. He could see the noticeable embarrassment on your face from his angle. Shifting on your seat every so often, covering your mouth with your hands as you attempted to take your notes and your eyes rolling back every time he changed the speed. He simply loved watching you look around, making sure no one noticed your odd behavior. Choso never knew this could be so hot.
Choso bit his lip, cock twitching in his now too tight pants, seeing your chest heaving up and down. He could tell you were close, so he decided to change it to the highest speed. He watched you lower your head, tightly shutting your eyes closed as you came, muffling your whimpers with your hand. Unbeknownst to you, Choso was in the same exact position as you as he released in his trousers by simply observing you.
He was thankful he decided to wear dark pants today.
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I know I messed up, princess. I shouldn’t have given you the panties in the box. Now you know how close I am to you. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed watching you squirm in pleasure in your seat. This is embarrassing to admit, but you were so sexy that you made me come in my pants. I hate wasting my cum that way when it could easily be inside you instead.
I’ve been thinking about it and I changed my mind about us meeting. How about we meet at the fountain in the middle of campus? Tonight at 8pm. I bought you a little something to wear for me. ♡
You hadn’t stopped re-reading the note ever since you left class. The dark, purple summer dress he had bestowed upon you lay delicately on your bed as you wished time would hasten its pace, eager to encounter this mysterious individual. Excitement bubbled up in your stomach as well as fear, what if this person turned out to be less than benevolent? There was barely anyone around campus at that hour, there no one to save you. Memories of the time that man had tried harassing you flooded your mind, not wanting the past to repeat itself. Yet your longing to meet this person persisted more than your anxieties. That’s why you opted to pack a pepper spray and a pocket knife in your bag without forgetting to share your location with your best friend.
Noticing the time to leave was approaching, you quickly dressed yourself, spritzing one of your favorite perfume on yourself before stepping out the door.
Choso was a nervous wreck, having arrived an hour too early. He had been sweating bullets the whole time as he attempted to get ready, forcing him to endure three showers. How was he supposed to look his best for you when his body wasn’t cooperating? He had wore his best outfit for you and made sure his hair was neatly styled in his usual do.
Now, he was there, struggling to regulate his breathing, trying his hardest to control his sweating. He dreaded appearing like a disheveled mess when you finally met. He kept checking the time, despising how extended each minute felt. He scrolled through your account, attempting to make time pass by faster, entertaining himself with your pictures as he always did when he felt down. He took notice of the time, seeing it was already one minute past eight. Where were you?
You were merely a minute late, yet panic took over him, entertaining thoughts of being left abandoned or worse yet, fearing that something had happened to you on the way here. Rising to his feet, he scanned the dimly lit campus and there was no sight of you. This couldn’t be happening to him. He could almost feel tears forming his eyes and just as he was about to check your location, he heard soft steps approaching through the grass.
He turned around and there you were.
He gulped when he saw you were wearing the dress he had gifted you with so much love. You were so beautiful, his heart twisted in his chest. For the first time it was just you and him— with your knowledge, obviously. He stared into your eyes and you stared right back. Your eyes were wide in astonishment. Choso attempted to open his mouth, but no words came out.
“It’s you.” You stated, your voice almost a whisper. Choso’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, his gaze was fixated on your pretty face and he couldn’t possibly look away. So, so pretty— he wanted to snatch you away and hide you from the world, your beauty shinning for his eyes only. He probably had a lovestruck look on his face and he didn’t even care about hiding it anymore.
“Y-yeah.” That was all Choso could manage to utter out, wishing he had left his hair down so it would at least cover part of his flushed face.
“You’re a shy little thing aren’t you?” You giggled, taking a few steps closer to him. “You can’t even look at me in the eye for more than a second.” You added as you tried to catch his golden brown eyes, surrounded by what seemed like red eyeshadow, but in reality the crimson around his eyes was brought to you by his lack of sleep. Choso kept his gaze on the ground, feeling the back of his neck starting to sweat. “You were incredibly bold the other day, not what I would expect from a man like you. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” He blushed harder at your compliment.
“Y-you liked it?” Choso inquired attempting to meet your eyes again, almost whimpering at how close you were to him. He could feel the warmth radiating from your body.
“Honestly, I found it quite disrespectful.” You started, making Choso’s eyes open up as he started apologizing profusely, but he was cut short. “But that was only at first. The more thought I gave it, the wetter I got. I fucking loved it, Choso.” His dick shot straight up the moment he heard his name leave your lips, he had longed to heart it for longer than you could muster. You drew yourself nearer to him until your soft chest was pressed against his hard one. Choso could stop his eyes from glueing themselves to your chest, being squeezed against his own. He was rock hard.
“Now it’s my turn to be bold with you, Choso. Would you like to go back to my place and show me what you can do with that, instead of a vibrator?” You suggested, biting your lip as you cupped his member in your hand. The golden eyed man couldn’t hold his whimpers when he felt your hand on him. This was not the way he visualized this night, but there was no way he would reject your offer.
“Let’s go.” Choso agreed eagerly.
You grabbed his hand as you both started hurrying towards your apartment which was only five minutes away. He was certain he would never tire of the feeling of your hand on his. He stared at you face, not believing you were truly here with him. He couldn’t stop himself from slipping your hand from his and lifting you up into his arms, carrying you the rest of the way.
“Oh? You seem to know the way to my apartment, have you been stalking me?” You questioned playfully, poking his cheek. Choso stopped on his tracks, looking at your facial expression trying to find the reassurance that you were truly playing with him right now. “Jeez, Choso! Relax a little, I’m only joking. I wouldn’t mind you stalking me, I’ve always thought you were the hottest guy in class.” You winked at him, causing a genuine smile to creep to his red face as he continued his way to your apartment.
The moment you arrived at your apartment, Choso rushed to your bedroom with you still in his arms, placing you gently on your bed. He sat next to you, feeling the sheets of your mattress, reminiscing of all the times he had been in here without your knowledge. You placed a hand on his thigh softly and he flexed it as he felt himself tense up when you got closer to him. “W-wait. I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
You stared at him in bewilderment. “You’re being serious right now?”
“Yes. I-I’m sorry. I wanted to let you know in case I wasn’t… good. We don’t have to continue if you don’t want.” Choso apologized, starting to get up and walk himself out of your apartment, only to be stopped by you.
“It’s okay, Choso. I just can’t believe a guy that looks like you has never done anything like this before.” You admitted as you cupped his face gently. The fact that you found him this attractive made his chest inflate with pride— after all, he always tried to look his best for you. “Can I kiss you?” You asked for permission and he answered with an eager nod. You closed the space between you both, massaging your lips into his surprisingly soft ones. Choso placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze, making you open your mouth ardently for him to slide his tongue in. Your wet tongue felt like heaven against his, you kiss was skyrocketing him into an abysm of serendipity. He never thought kissing could feel this good.
You slowly pulled away, a string of saliva keeping your lips connected to one another. “That was amazing, [Name]. Thank you.” Choso gratefully expressed, a lovesick smile lingering on his face.
Your lips formed into a smirk before pushing him back on your bed, climbing onto his lap and crashing your lips into his once again. He responded right away by sliding his tongue across your bottom lips, desperate for you to allow him entrance into your wet cavern and you complied enthusiastically. As you shared the reverent kiss you started grinding you hips against the tent in pants, making him grunt into the kiss. You pulled away from him momentarily to lift off his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs. “Wow, you’re so strong, Choso.” You praised him, dragging your hand over them, making him hiss at the contact.
“It’s all for you, princess.” He admitted, daring to place his hand on your ass that was half covered by the purple fabric of the dress. “Gods, I’ve wanted to grab this ass for such a long time. You’re so damn breathtaking.” He added squeezing your globs firmly.
“You can touch me wherever you want from now on.” You replied shakily, feeling your panties damped more by the minute. Having him feel you up and grope you this way was making you inexplicably horny.
Choso moved one of his hand tentatively up your thigh until he reached your crotch, looking up at you for permission to touch that sacred place. You gave a nod, understanding exactly what he was asking for. Choso wasted no time, running his fingers over your clothed pussy. You shut your eyes, quivering as you felt him graze your sensitive clit, wanting for him to pull your panties off and touch you without a barrier. “Can I taste you?” You slowly unveiled your eyes to find Choso begging you with his eyes to allow him the pleasure of eating you out. You nodded zealously, getting off his lap, standing in front of him as he remained seated.
Choso pulled your dress off, slowly exposing you to him. “I can’t belive how beautiful you are.” He ran his eyes over your body, adorned by some cute purple, lace lingerie, making him grin adoringly. It seemed that you knew by now he loved that color on you. As much as he loved the way you looked in the little piece you decided to wear for him, he needed it off. Now.
He attempted to undo your bra, needing your assistance due to his lack of experience, making you giggle. He slowly pulled the bra off, revealing your naked breasts to him. He couldn’t help himself from ogling your breasts like a pervert, he had wanted to see you fully nude for such an extended period of time— he was going to enjoy every minute of it.
The curve of your waist was inviting him run his hands through it until they reached your hips and with that he pulled you closer to him, until your breasts were close enough to his face. He took one of your perky nipples in his mouth, sucking like he was starved while he pulled gently on your other nipple. He moved his other hand down to your cunt to rub on your clit over the thin fabric, while simultaneously stimulating your sensitive nipples. It was too much for you, moans flew out of your mouth unstoppably. You were incredibly wet.
He moved on to suckle on your other nipple, enjoying the taste of your skin thoroughly. He released your nipple with a wet pop, yearning to taste your juices on his tongue. He hooked his finger on your panties before pulling them down in a swift motion. He pushed you gently onto your bed. He spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight of your sopping wet cunt. “Such a pretty little pussy. I’ve always wanted to have my mouth right here.” Choso expressed as he placed a finger on your clit, always begging for his attention. “You don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off watching you touch yourself.” He let the confession slip out before he could stop himself.
“You’ve watched me touch myself? That’s so fucking hot!” You threw your head back as he started rubbing consistent circles on you clit. He decided he had teased himself long enough and it was finally time to taste you. He started by giving you a long lick, dragging his inexperienced tongue upwards from your entrance towards your clit, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he delighted himself with your taste for the first time. He stilled for a moment before attacking your clit with his mouth. With your guidance he was able to lick at just the right spot, earning breathy moans from you. You chanted his name as he licked your sensitive bud with no plans on stopping until you fed him your nectar.
“Don’t stop, Choso! Put your fingers inside me!” You squeaked out as he quickly complied, your walls squeezing around his fingers and he reached places you’ve never reached with your own fingers. “I’m gonna come soon!” You whined, squeezing his head between your thighs as you arched your back in pleasure.
He speed up the movements of his tongue, delighting himself with the taste of your pussy, thrusting his digits inside you at a rapid pace. He squeezed his eyes shut, moaning into your clit, knowing he was going to make you orgasm with his mouth just like he always desired. Once he felt you clench around his finger tightly he knew it was over. A scream of his name rippled your throat as you let it all out. You shivered as you came down from your, legs trembling in ecstasy. Choso stayed attached to your pussy with his eyes closed, body quivering, lapping up your delightful juices. You had once again made him come in his pants.
Choso stood up from his knees, unfastening his trousers, kicking them off his feet, desperate to finally feel you pussy. You stared at his cum covered cock, taking in his size. “You’re huge, Choso.” You said eyeing him lustfully. The lewd look on your face made his dick stand up completely straight even after having came just now.
You shimmied yourself onto the middle of the bed encouraging him to climb in with you. Choso complied, hungrily contemplating your body. He loved absolutely every part of it. Placing himself on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight, he pressed his lips against yours, missing the feeling of them. While you were kissing he started grinding his cock against your soaking wet heat. His erect member was in desperate need to be sheathed by your warmth.
Choso grabbed his member by the base, rubbing the tip against your entrance teasingly slow, spreading the cum that coated him all over your pussy. “Push it in, please, Choso.” You begged, voice wavering in desire. Hearing you plead for him awakened something different in him, he no longer felt embarrassed or ashamed about anything. You had accepted him. From this day on you had become officially his and he owned your pretty body. Nothing could stop him now, nobody would take you away from him.
Satisfying your plea, he pushed in, stretching out your tight cunt with his girth. He grunted in pleasure as you engulfed him in your heat, burring his head in the crook of your neck. Your jaw slacked open as you felt his immense size enter you, feeling him in your stomach as he bottomed out. “F-fuck, princess. You feel amazing, s-so tight!” Choso complimented, conscious that he wasn’t going to last at all. Your pussy clenched deliciously around him, a sensation he had never felt before. He knew you’d understand.
“Oh, Choso! You’re so deep inside my pussy!” You managed to babble out, already feeling drunk on his cock. You grabbed onto his space buns, undoing them so you could see him with his hair down and what a great decision that was. This man was gorgeous, his long raven locks falling down his face, giving him a more rugged look. You couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips at just the mere sight of him.
Choso whimpered your name, ramming his cock deep inside you at a steady pace. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, princess. I’m s-sorry.” He uttered out shakily, caressing your face lovingly. He started pumping his cock inside you at an inhuman speed feeling his orgasm approaching faster by the second.
“L-let me feel your cum inside me, Choso. Just like you said you wanted in your note!” Your words alone made him quiver out his orgasm with a load groan of your name. He moaned, throwing his head back as your cunt milked his semen out of his, injecting it straight in your womb. You moaned enjoying the warm feeling of his spent filling you up. He continued thrusting erratically and sloppily, stilling inside you, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy for a little longer.
“I love you so much.” He confessed breathlessly, keeping his head buried in your neck as he caught his breath, relishing the way your body molded into his perfectly. You were meant to be his. Deciding to finally pull out, he hissed as he watched your mixed juices drip out of your hole. This had been the best night of his entire life.
All thanks to you. ♡︎
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goldsbitch · 2 days
Text
Our wedding
Y/N and Lando probably went a little too overboard when planning their wedding. She finally looses it when his friend suggests a product placement bucket hat.
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A dream wedding.
Distant palazzo, with acres of private lands to roam around at night. Lavish dress, designed to fit perfectly and re-done three times. Coordinators, who made sure everyone who needed to be invited actually was. And also took care about almost anything one can imagine.
A perfect wedding, that's what they both wanted. Go big or go home. Combining romance, with generously giving everyone they loved, or deemed important, the time of their life. To say that this event was supposed to be extra would be an understatement.
Lando said yes to all of Y/N's wished regarding flower arrangements, menu items and rooming lists. She said yes to all of this ideas about the music, sound systems set up in each part of the venue (because heaven would turn upside down if there had been one quiet spot with no music, according to Lando) and drinks choices. They could not agree on the photographer - so Lando just booked his, and hers option as well. Saving money was not on the table. He knew that the amount of good PR and brand deals the Quadrant team managed to get together was going to pay out in the long run. Everyone loves a wedding.
That's where the first issues started - the amount of people invited grew into higher hundreds. She voiced her point few times, but Lando quickly shut those off with a promise to book a private charter for all friends and family who were coming from her homeland. She caved in and agreed to just few more CEO's she'd never met, as long as they did not share their table.
It was the final two months before the wedding and things could not be more hectic. They had to plan the wedding around Lando's race schedule, so summer break between races it was. Y/N had to juggle her job with all of this planning, so she attended less races than she usually would. Most of the calls she shared with Lando were wedding related and it seemed like his best friend Max took it upon himself to speak on behalf of Lando - so sometimes it felt like she was marrying Max rather than her fiancé. After a total break down she had few days ago, which resulted in her crying on the phone to Lando at 4 am his local time, they agreed she absolutely had to come over to the next race so that they could find some down time.
//
Having to endure a tiring overnight flight, she finally stepped into the hotel where Lando was staying at. Exhausted, jet-lagged and generally in a bad mood were the main ingredients in the perfect cocktail of "you should just avoid me" Y/N. She finally opened the door to his room and let out a groan. Traveling to see him used to be her favorite thing. A bombastic cherry on top was that she immediately recognized Max's voice coming from the living room. Was this guy staying in the same room as them now?
"Y/N, is that you?" she heard, desperately hoping he hadn't heard her enter in. She felt like a bitch for wishing that, but he was the last person she wanted to see at that point. Her hopes of jumping in the bed and cuddling Lando the first thing coming here dissolved like cotton candy, leaving tooth aches behind.
"Yes, Max, it's me," she said, not even bothering adjusting her tone to something more socially appropriate.
"Great, just on time. Can you come in here? We have some decisions that are becoming pressing matters," he said dryly and added his own frustrated comment quietly "...since someone does not feel like answering emails." She heard that, bit her lip and swallowed all her comments, otherwise she would explode.
"What's up?" she asked, entering the living space. There were dozens of baseball caps and buckets hats laid down on the coffee table with Max and some random young guy towering over them.
"We need you to pick out one of these which you'll be wearing after the reception. I have a great brand deal on the table which I need to close today. So, go ahead - pick one." She could not believe the words coming out of Max's mouth. Was he for real?
"May I ask when did I agree to wearing a baseball cap with my dress right after my wedding?"
Max glanced at her and then rolled his eyes. "Can you just pick one? Lando is on board with this, he'll be wearing this green one," he pointed to objectively very nice stylish item of clothing - but still, it was a bucket hat. Rage levels shot up in Y/N blood steam.
"Max, I'm suppose to be wearing my wedding dress until the evening, that's also in some deal you guys made," she proclaimed, hoping this would finally make him get some sense. "The dress is very classical, I don't think this would fit the vibe."
"Oh, come, we agreed to sticking to the Quadrant Athletes color palette and all of these check that. We want to break the classical vibe up with this."
"I'm sorry, who exactly is we in this scenario? And who the fuck are you?!" she pointed at the guy standing next to Max.
"I'm...I'm the product placement controller," he said in a shy voice.
Her eyes just went wide at that point.
"Y/N, no need to freak out again, you need to create a viral moment to make the brand grow," Max said, as if he was talking about a new merch launch.
And that was the final straw. "I'm getting sick of you guys making my wedding into a Quadrant PR stunt. You need to realize this is my wedding, not yours! The whole event is already dripping with brand deals and promotions, is there nothing out of line to you? Will my mom also have to wear one of these hats? Will force the officiant to wear sneakers? Where will you stop?"
Max stared at her, his own cup finally also full. But unlike her, he spoke calmly - again, giving strong business vibes. "Oh, I'm sorry - I'm sorry I am pulling heaven and Earth to make sure your wedding does not ruin your future husband! I apologize that I seem to be more stressed about this wedding than you are. Sorry for caring and trying to uphold some standard."
"Max, this is all too much! I feel like I'm suffocating," she tried to reason with him once more.
He just had enough at that point. So many little moments of mutual disagreement finally grew on him.
"Yeah, well maybe you're just not suited for this world."
Before she could even take a breath to respond, a familiar voice cut them both off.
"Guys, that's enough I'd say," Lando said as he slowly stepped out the same corridor Y/N had entered moments ago. Both Max and Y/N turned around, knowing they'd have spoken way differently had they known he was there as well.
Max gulped, knowing he stepped over a line and immediately started to apologize. "Mate, I'm sorry, we just sort of lost it. I'm sorry."
Lando glanced at him, his face suddenly hard to read for both his friend and his fiancée. He quickly flashed Y/N a look, seeing the obvious distress finally on his own, in a way the camera on a phone just does not capture. It pained him to see them two fighting, but it pained him more to see her on the verge of crying.
She couldn't find words to apologize to Max. In fact she could barely even see him, as Lando took all of her attention.
"Can you guys leave us for now? I think we need to talk alone," Lando said in a tone so serious that Max hardly remembered last time he'd heard it.
"Yeah, mate. Of course," he said shyly, gesturing to his companion to quickly exit with him.
Once the door finally clicked, Y/N felt like she could get out of her frozen state.
"My god. Lando, I knew it would be a challenge these few months, but I did not expect to grow so far away from you," she said, as the words flew out of her mouth without her being able to control it.
He was more careful with his words, but brave nevertheless. "It's true. I don't think we've even been so distant."
Him acknowledging it just made it real and hurt more.
"Right. At least we have that in common."
There was an awkward silence, something these two hadn't experienced in months.
"Why is Max involved so much?" she asked, hoping that she would not hear anything that would make her biggest fear come true - Lando's lack of desire to marry her.
He took a moment to get his point in the right order. "He's my best friend. This is our wedding. I can't stop focusing on racing, but I want it to be perfect. I'd say not giving him any credit sometimes."
Of course, he was defending him. She wondered if he defended her in front of Max sometimes.
All card on the table. She gulped before uttering the next sentence. "I'm scared that I don't want to go to my own wedding anymore. I feel like an unwanted guest."
They shared a look full of hidden pain. It was impossible to tell, but Lando was scared as never before. "What are you saying...Do you want to call it of??"
She looked back at him, praying that he would understand. "God no, that's the last thing I want to do," she sighed and put her head in her hands. How did it got to a place where he could even assume that? "Marrying you, the love of my life, is my dream. In fact, I'd just like to jump to the moment where I can finally say yes to you."
The air still felt really heavy. "Then let's do just that."
"What do you mean?"
Lando took few steps closer to her, missing her close proximity for the past few weeks. He desperately needed to fix them. "Let's book a wedding for next week in Monaco, just you me and any other people required by the law."
The idea of that seemed silly at first. But the more she thought about it, the more she craved that idea. "So, you want to call the actual wedding off?"
Lando chuckled at the image of them cancelling that at last minute and all the hustle that would bring. "No, silly, not unless you really want to. But who says we can't have a fake ceremony there, celebrate with everyone, while already being married at that point? We don't need to tell anyone, keep the magic for them. We can have two weddings."
It was her time to laugh now. "So because we find organizing one wedding hard, we're going to be doing two now?"
"We are anything but conventional. And if this is news for you then, well...That would mean I'm marrying the queen of delulu. Twice."
The weight of the past weeks was lifted.
"Does this mean I can say "No." at the big wedding?" she teased him, closing the distance between them and holding his hand.
"Not if I'll say "No." first," he winked and quickly gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"I'm not wearing a bucket hat. Just stating that now."
"Oh come, at least one of our weddings," he said as he ruffled her hair. "Wow, I think you need a post airport shower, my love."
"Do not try and change the topic - no bucket hats!" she mumbles as she tried to fix her hair.
"Fine, I'll just get you drunk. You'll wear a bucket hat at one of our weddings one way or another."
It felt so good to just banter with him, like they always did before they got caught up in all the stress. A shot of guilt went through her system, as she flashed back at the whole process so far.
"I should probably apologize to Max," she uttered, avoiding his eye contact once again.
He finally hugged her. "Yeah probably. But...let him rot in his feelings for a moment. I hate when someone makes you upset. Apart from me, of course."
"What makes me upset right now is the alarming amount clothes you're wearing."
"That's my girl!"
//
They got legally married the following weekend, Lando bribing anyone he could in order for them to skip few spots that were unavailable. The first wedding was secret and full of inappropriate, but honest kisses. The second one was fake, but they slayed it together, as newly married couple. Without the stress of actually getting married, they really enjoyed their wedding. The little secret stayed with them - and Max of course, because he just had to get involved with everything.
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ellecdc · 1 day
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Hello dearest, how are you?
Congratulations for the exams🥳 hope you get better(because I know exams can get us mad LOL)
CBBH
Do you think Draco would ever pull the “you are not even my real mother” to Vix, and if he did what would be the others reaction
hi sweets! thanks for your sweet words and also your request - I've not been spending much time in my CBBH universe but I know this is how most of you found me, so here's your request!!
Sirius Black x Vixen!reader who deal with a tempertantrum from Draco
CW: brief mention of the war, brief mention of character death, adopted child worries, parental struggles, fluff, hurt/comfort
Sirius barely had time to throw up a silencing charm down the hallway to the baby’s room before he heard the door slam and heavy foot falls head towards the kitchen. 
“Draco Malfoy!” He heard you call sternly; Sirius winced at the use of the full name. “Do not walk away from me when I am talking to you.”
“You’re not talking to me, you’re shouting at me.” The ten-year-old argued back.
“I would not have to shout if you would- I’m not arguing with you.” You corrected yourself, finally following Draco into the kitchen where Sirius could see his son’s red and frustrated face whilst yours looked frustrated and exhausted. “I have specifically told you again and again to not fly your brooms south of the manor!”
“I know!”
“Then tell me why I had to come chasing you lot all the way to the Jones’ farm  lest you be seen by muggles, or worse, hit the power lines! You know I don’t just tell you not to go there to be boring, right? To be bossy? It’s to keep you safe, Draco.” You insisted severely. 
Draco had the audacity to scoff at you for that. “Why are you only shouting at me about this? Why not yell at Harry, huh? He was there too!”
You stuck your tongue in your cheek as you raised your eyebrow at the boy. “Because Harry is not mine, Draco. It is my job as your mum to-”
“BUT YOU’RE NOT MY MUM!” Draco screamed, causing the room to fall painfully silent. 
You and Sirius had never tag-teamed in your parenting; there’d never really been a need to. Draco had always been a super easy child, and both of you trusted the other to handle it, or, to let the other know when you needed back up. 
But this, this was uncharted territory, and Sirius wasn’t completely proud of the fierce protectiveness he felt roar to life inside of him as you let out a disbelieving breath. After the war - your death disappearance, finally finding you again only to have you snatched out from under his nose, and then to finally be able to care for you the way you so deserved to be cared for - this felt like an assault on Sirius’ favourite person; son-or-not, Draco had crossed a line. 
“If Harry’s not your son, I’m not your son either! So sod off with your lecture!”
“Draco.” Sirius barked, causing you to hold out a hand in your direction.
“Sirius, don’t.”
“Love, he-” He started.
“Go to your room, Draco.” You ordered; a determination in your eyes Sirius wasn’t sure he’d ever seen from you before.
It didn’t appear Draco had either, if the slight wavering in his glare was any indication. But it appeared his frustration and stubbornness won out as he continued to stare at you defiantly.
“Go to your room, now.” You repeated quietly.
The boy finally turned and stomped his way down the hall before slamming his bedroom door behind him; Sirius wanted to smack him upside the head for that alone, let alone what he’d just said to you. 
“What the hells has gotten into him?” Sirius asked in disbelief, seeming to startle you out of your shock as you moved to grab a glass of juice from the cool storage.
“He’s just frustrated.” You muttered quietly.
“We don’t talk to each other like that.” Sirius argued, earning him a tired sigh from you.
“Well, apparently we do now.” You said as you sat at the table across from him. 
Now that you were stationary, Sirius could clearly see the reflection of the manor grounds from your glassy eyes as you stared unseeingly out the window.
“You okay, my love?” He asked quietly, reaching a hand out across the table to yours. You sniffled and took his hand quickly; your muscles relaxing slightly as he rubbed soothing circles across your wrist with his thumb. 
“I’m fine.” 
And there may have been a period of time where Sirius would have believed that, but the two of you were nine years into your parenting game, and fourteen years into your relationship, so Sirius liked to think he knew better.  “I’m going to go talk to him.”
“Don’t.” You spat; your hand creating a death grip around Sirius’ hand forcing him to return his arse to the seat. “He’s upset, Pads.” You offered more gently. “Let him cool down.”
“How many times have you told James the same of me?” Sirius teased, eliciting a sad smile from you, though it was a smile nonetheless. 
“He’s just like his dad.” You whispered, looking close to tears again. 
“He didn’t mean it, my love.” He implored, causing you to shake your head. 
“Doesn’t make it not true.”
“Vix…”
“She would be doing such a better job than me, Siri.” You let out through a choked sob. “She should be here with him; he deserves his mother.”
“He has his mother.” Sirius argued; feeling the protective anger bubbling up again in his oesophagus. 
“Sirius.”
“He deserves his mother, but he was gifted with you, Vix; we all were.” Sirius pressed severely. “He is unbelievably lucky to have a mum like you.”
You took a shuddering breath and let it out with a sigh. “I just wish I knew I was doing a good job with him.”
“You are.” Regulus said in a bored tone, causing the two of you to jump nearly a foot in the air.
“Buggering fuck- how long have you been there!?” Sirius shrilled.
“We were literally mid-conversation before your wife and child stormed in, Sirius.” Regulus drawled. 
“Fucking hells.” 
“Children are bastards.” Regulus continued as if the two of you weren’t currently trying to restart your hearts. “And just because you’re doing a great job with him doesn’t mean Draco’s any less of a bastard.”
“Okay, well, I don’t know that you should be calling my son a bastard?” You argued in the form of a question.
“Well he’s sort of acting like one.” Sirius muttered petulantly, earning him a kick in the shin under the table.
“Narcissa trusted you with him, Y/N.” Regulus pressed; grey eyes boring into yours as memories of the final months of the war that only the two of you were privy to passed through your understanding. “And she was right to.”
And like the creepy fuck he is, Regulus turned and silently left the room; floating like a victorian ghost haunting the halls of Potter Manor.
“He’s a weird bloke.” Sirius proclaimed, earning him another kick in the shin. Luckily for Sirius, he knew the kick was coming and caught your ankle with his hand, holding your foot hostage under the table. “But he’s right, my love. You’re the best mum.”
“As good as Effie?” You asked quietly.
Sirius felt his left eye twitch; he wanted to say yes, because you’re you and you’re his and you’re perfect, but he also felt he couldn’t because…well…Effie was the greatest mother in the whole wide world?
Thankfully, you simply chuckled and reached a hand across the table to caress Sirius’ face. “Thank you, my love.”
He quickly turned his face to kiss the palm of your hand before he stood up.
“Okay, I’m going to go talk to our bastard of a child.”
“Sirius!” You scolded, but he was already half way down the hall. 
Sirius knocked twice before he propped the door to Draco’s bedroom open, where he saw the little squirt laying face down on his bed with his face shoved into his pillow.
Sirius took a steadying breath as he closed the door behind him and moved into his oldest child’s room.
Patience didn’t always come easily to Sirius; that is to say, patience and grace was not his automatic response. 
But he refused to be like his parents; he wanted to be better.
So, he thought of Effie, and Monty, and Hope Lupin, and you, and he sat on the edge of his little boy's bed and placed a gentle hand on his back.
“Hey buddy.” He said quietly, rubbing circles onto his back. The only sign Sirius got that Draco had heard him was a small sob into the boy’s pillow. “What was that about? Hm?” He continued gently.
Draco let in a (quite disgusting, if you asked Sirius) sniffle and sat up on his bed; face wet and red, littered with tear track stains.
It always felt like everytime Sirius blinked, his children were bigger than he remembered them. But right now, Draco seemed so small; sitting in front of Sirius was the sad and scared one and a half year old boy who had just watched his birth mother die whilst protecting him as his adopted mum shielded him with her body. 
And in that sad, scared, distraught little boy's face - with eyes so much like his own - Sirius saw himself, too. 
“What’s the matter, Draco?”
“Does she hate me now?” The boy let out in a sob. 
“Does who hate you now?” Sirius asked disbelievingly. 
“Mum.” 
“Oh, buddy, no.” Sirius replied emphatically, pulling his son into his lap and cradling his head to his chest. “Mum could never hate you, my love; she adores you.”
“I don’t know why I said what I said.” Draco admitted.
Sirius let out a sigh as he rocked the two of them back and forth. “It’s because you’re a Black, buddy; our words cut deep. But we have to be better than that, Draco. We need to say what we mean and mean what we say; we never know what tomorrow brings.”
“I love mum, I really do.” He insisted. “I was just so mad at being scolded and…”
“And maybe a little embarrassed being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to?” Sirius offered.
Draco let out a shuddering breath and nodded his head.
“Your mum loves you so much, and it scares her when she thinks you might get hurt. She made a very important promise nearly nine years ago that she would protect you with her life, buddy. She takes that promise very seriously.”
“I’m sorry.” Draco whispered as he sat up in Sirius’ lap. The boy wiped at his face and looked at his father imploringly. 
“I’m not the one who needs an apology, buddy.” Sirius whispered back, pushing a lock of blond hair away from his son’s face and making a mental note that Draco was due for a haircut. 
“What if she doesn’t forgive me?” He asked timidly. 
Sirius leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead. “Your mother has forgiven me for far worse, my love. Come on, let’s go talk to her, hm?” He offered. 
And Draco quickly nodded and slid from his dad’s lap, reaching a hand behind him to grasp Sirius’ before they made their way back to the kitchen to make amends with Draco’s mum.
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sturniolo-rat · 2 days
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✨Matt Sturniolo Headcanons✨
For True And Certified Yapper Girls🗣️
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🤍 Matt loves talkative women
From what I gather Matt isn’t naturally a loud person with paragraphs and paragraphs to say. He thinks a lot and says things in a very efficient so he doesn’t use so many words. I think he would absolutely love to have a yapper girlfriend that’s really engaging and asks tons of questions. He’d never have anxiety about being boring or sounding awkward because you’d carry and direct the conversation. He would worry about how to respond to statements because you’d ask him questions to direct his thoughts to.
🤍 You always make sure he’s included
You tend to dominate and lead group conversations. It’s easy for his voice to be overshadowed by yours so you’re always keeping an eye out for him. When you notice he’s making a face like he wants to say something you make everyone listen up. “Thank you, Baby. I wasn’t sure they heard me before.” Sometimes depending on the crowd he’ll get really anxious whisper to you his thoughts. You immediately redirect your attention and start yapping away loudly to him so the group is interested in what he has to say.
🤍 He likes watching you be outgoing
Matt doesn’t always want to be a part of conversations but he does like to watch you when you’re in your element talking up a storm and telling fun stories it’s and silly jokes. He’s happy to see you being yourself. It even turns him on a little bit. If he’s been watching you talk all night at a party he’s definitely railing you when you get home. He slips his hands into your panties and pulls you onto him. “Come sit on my lap and talk to me, Baby. Tell me if you want it rough or gentle.”
🤍 He listens to you really closely
The boy isn’t a yapper but he’s a damn good listener. He’s quite possibly the only one of the triplets who reads so he loves a good story. He’s always asking you to tell him story stories about your childhood and before you met him. “I swear to god you’re the most interesting woman in the world” “I know I am. Now sit and listen.”
🤍 He gets really concerned when get quiet
Matt does NOT like when you get quiet. God forbid you become deep in thought about something and go silent. If he hasn’t had a debriefing about your day whenever you come home he’ll notice and come up to you with your favorite snacks. “Tell me what’s wrong, Sweetness. I brought treats and we can talk shit about whoever upset my baby.” Even if you’re not actually upset you take the opportunity to talk shit anyway.
🤍 He loves getting voice memos from you
You’re his safe person and your voice is so calming to him. He’s always so excited when you’ve had a day that’s so interesting everything that happened can’t be said in a text. He listens to your messages like it’s a true crime podcast. When he misses you or if he’s on tour he goes back and listens to the messages he’s saved. Sometimes if he’s having trouble going to sleep he calls you and asks you to talk to him until he falls asleep.
🤍 You make sexy audios for him
Yes, your voice is calming but to him it’s equally as erotic. He most definitely gets bricked up to your voice. One day you send him a voice message along with a text that says “LISTEN WITH AIRPODS!” He does and it’s just you touching yourself while moaning his name. He gets hard at the family function and has to punish you when he gets home.
Masterlist
@rafecameronsbitch @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @Cind2224 @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @chrattstromboli @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339 @sturnzsblog @spotconlon55 @robins-scoop @junovrsmp4 @sturnlover4eva @blahbel668 @lilahnowheretobefound @luxy-nyx @tuffsturns @m0r94n @sturnstvs @pepsicolapussy333 @maddyslifesstuff @dogblof @honeymoonxxz @xplr-sturns-e-m @hayhjelmstad15
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feltit-writeit · 2 days
Text
Spoiled and Loved
Art Donaldson x Fem!Reader
In every way, you were the person that made the college experience that much better for Art. You, on the other end, were still struggling to find your place at Uni.
Watnings: inscure reader, lost reader, small angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader has rich parents, one s3x joke
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There he was. In your usual spot in the cafeteria eating a lunch that his athletic nutritionist must've assigned him to eat. God was your boyfriend beautiful... "Baby?" He called you out of your trance and you smiled at him. "Come?" He motioned for the chair in front of him with his head. You walked toward it and sat down with your lunch that was healthy but certainly not planned. "Hey!" You said. You started eating and asking how his morning practice was and he smiled throught it all. After finishing his lunch and while explaining his morning, he drew mindless doodles on your left hand with a pencil. One was a tennis racket the other a heart and another a paint brush. Once he was done, silence had fallen and Art looked up at you, stopping his drawing. "Y/N?" Art asked while looking for your gaze. "Hmm?" You answered still looking at your left hand. "Look at me." He asked and lifted your head up with the help of his palm on your jaw. You looked at him and smiled. "How was your day so far, baby?" He then asked with certainty. You sighed and went to look down again, only to feel your boyfriend rubbing your jaw and hearing him hum no. When you met his gaze again you felt it.
The need to tell him the truth.
"Art?" He nodded at your interpellation, waiting for you to continue. "I don't think I belong here." You had felt like this for a while, but your boyfriend's joy at being here made that feeling simmer down a little.
That was until yesterday.
"That's Donaldson's girlfriend, right?" A girl said behind you during your history of the arts lecture. You normally tuned these type of conversations out, but today your ears decided that it was a mighty fine time to do as they wanted. "She play any sports?" The girl, Jenny from what you heard her friend call her earlier, proceeded to ask her friend, Luna. "Not that anybody knows of. Not to his level at least." The other girl answered with a certain turn in her voice. It wasn't a nice one at that. ""But she must do something else around campus for her to be with him, right?" Jenny continued her interrogations. "The only place other than her lectures that people see her at are Donaldson's games. She just does those two things that includes school life. People have said and know that she doesn't even have a major yet. She just does classes until she finally finds something that makes her spark. It's pathetic really." Luna said and chuckled with her friend who fired back : "Why would he want to be with her? If I were Art Donaldson-" And you never heard the last of her life hacks, because your ears decided you had been tortured enough as it was. The notes you had started taking were the only ones you took for the rest of the 3 hour lecture. Well, what was one more exam failed?
You would stay in this godforsaken place until you found a stupid major to work in life with.... Why bother studying right now? Your parents paid for your acceptance at Stanford. Your life was as corrupted as that.
"What do you mean Y/n/n?" Art asked with a concerned look and rubbed his tumb over your jaw. "I don't know what I mean by that. But that's also a problem, I never know..." you tried to explain but it was still unclear to him. He only wanted to comfort you and make you feel at ease at all times, but right now he couldn't understand you. That made him mad at himself. "I don't know what I am going to major in, I don't know why I went to college in the first place and I don't know what you find in me. Before you start to argue that point, I have to tell you that I don't doubt your love, I doubt my ability of being loved right now. I am a mess Art... I can't do it anymore! The only thing I do know, is that I'm going to end up like I always feared..." You continued to elaborate on your feelings while he was listening. "Baby... I love you for who you are. I'm sure what you feared for your future isn't even that bad-" you cut him off on that and laughed while letting some tears flow. "Oh yeah, it is. I will end up as every other rich kid who doesn't amount to nothing and will live off my family's money for my whole life." You said and removed his hand from your face. You didn't feel deserving of his touch right now. "Stop." He said sternly. How could he have left this go this far? How couldn't he have seen you were feeling like this? How bad of a boyfriend was he? "Y/n, you are not messed up. You are beautiful and intelligent and you are worth more than your family's wealth. You are important. Not only to me but to a lot of people. Listen, college isn't for everyone, baby. I know it 's easier listening than believing, but please don't pull away from me." He had tears brimming his eyes now.
What did you do to deserve him?
"I love you, Art. I'm sorry for upsetting you..." You explained and held his hand that had been squeezing the edge of the table. "Don't, baby. You do not have to appologize. I should appologize for not seeing how you had been feeling. Please... talk to me about these things. I want to be there for you like you are for me." He took your hand back in his to play with it lightly. "Okay." You said and smiled softly at him. "Okay?" He asked smiling softly too while looking into your eyes. "Yeah. I'll talk to you more about my feelings, baby." You nodded and affirmed.
As you both walked to your last class of the day that you shared, the girls of your history of the arts lecture passed you. They were looking at you and art with sadness. It was then you realized what they had been doing. Only wallowing in their jealousy because:
Art had chose you. Not them.
His heart was set on you and that made them mad. Some part of you felt like you could see them. Maybe you were loved by someone like they wanted to be, but you were also envious of how these girls would be graduating in Teaching in less than two months likw you wanted to be graduating.
Everybody was jealous of somebody in this world.
"Art?" You asked while going closer to his side. "Hmm?" He had answered when wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in even closer. "I think I'm jealous of you." You confirmed while giggling. "Oh yeah? How come, y/n?" He smiled at your randomness. "You have a massive dick. I want that." You said in the most serious tone you could master in that instance. Art burst out laughing and admitted that he was jealous of you too. "How come, Art?" You copied his sentence. "Imagine being as pretty as the one and only Y/n Y/l/n under sun rays. I'll pray for that to happen one day." You looked up into his eyes and stopped walking for a second. You smiled at him and went up to kiss him on his lips. The kiss was slow and full of love, just how you prefered then to be.
"I love you, baby. Even if you are a spoiled little brat sometimes." He said and tried to cover his head before you shoved his head to the side playfully.
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queenshelby · 2 days
Text
Sweet Possession (Part 5)
Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)
Warning: Age Gap, Smut
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Two days later, when you were working at the orphanage again, it came as a surprise to you that Michael Grosvenor, the man who had invaded your personal space in Thomas' eyes, was no longer there. According to another staff member, Michael had resigned and his abrupt departure surprised you.
"He resigned? Really?"  you asked the staff member, surprised by this sudden turn of events. You wondered if Thomas had anything to do with Michael's departure, but you quickly dismissed the thought. 
"Yes, he came in and gave his resignation this morning without any prior notice," the staff member explained to you. "He just said that he received a better offer elsewhere and couldn't pass it up."
You nodded, trying to process this information.  Something didn't quite add up, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You had never seen Thomas act out of anger, but there was something in the way he had reacted to hearing about Michael two nights ago that made you think twice. Your husband was an influential man, and you knew he had connections all over town. But still, to get an employee fired just for touching your arm seemed extreme, even for a man of his standing. 
But you quickly pushed the thought out of your mind as you turned back to your work at the orphanage. The children needed your attention and, as an employee there, you did not want to let them down.
Eventually, days turned into weeks and soon a month had passed since your wedding day. You had settled well into your new life with Thomas. He was attentive and kind, always making sure that you were well taken care of. Twice a week, you worked at the orphanage with Isiah by your side and twice a week, you cooked, for your husband and the staff of the house, which was something you truly enjoyed. 
In your time off, Thomas and you would spend it together in his house which became more of a home with each day that passed. You also enjoyed the stables, riding horses and even having days in bed with your new husband, exploring each other's bodies and learning new things about one another. It was during those moments that you truly felt like a married couple, in love and content.
But, despite the love that Thomas had for you, there were moments where he would disappear for hours, sometimes entire days and nights on end. You never asked where he went or what he did but his absence would leave you feeling empty and anxious. He would always come back to you eventually, hands clean of any negative deeds, simply telling you that "he had business to attend to" before pulling you into a tight embrace.
You knew better than to ask questions, knowing that he would never reveal the truth behind his absence and that his world was one you had only scratched the surface of.
Still, despite the unknown aspects about your husband, you trusted him while, unbeknownst to you, Thomas Shelby was one of the most ruthless men in Birmingham. But, when it came to you, his wife, he was as gentle as a lamb. Your innocence seemed to calm him down and make him a better man. 
Little did you know, that beneath his charming exterior and seemingly kind demeanor was a man capable of murder, extortion, and other heinous crimes. This side of him he reserved for his business dealings with other gang members and none of them revealed anything about your husband's crimes to you until the day you were shocked when you read the morning paper. 
"Man found murdered by the docks," the headlines  screamed at you, as you sat down on the comfortable armchair with a cup of tea in your hands. The photo accompanying the article was a gruesome one, showing a man's lifeless body lying crumpled and twisted next to the water.
Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the victim as Michael Grosvenor, your colleague from the orphanage. The name registered in your mind immediately and with it came the memories of his sudden departure from the children's home just weeks ago. 
"Isiah, did you see this?" you asked , your voice trembling as you held up the paper for him to see.
Isiah, who had been standing by the window, watching the morning rain, turned to look at you. His expression was one of surprise and concern as he took in the headline.
"Hmm," he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the article while he shook his head, sighing deeply in disbelief as if he already knew that Michael Grosvenor was dead.
"You don't seem to be surprised, Isiah. Why is that?" you asked, your eyes narrowing as you studied his face.
"I can't say, Miss," Isiah replied, his tone carefully neutral. "It'sjust, I had a feeling, you know." 
You nodded, although you couldn't shake an uneasy feeling growing in your stomach. "Who would do such a thing?" you asked , your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to process the information. You were shocked and horrified to find out that Michael had been murdered.
"I couldn't say, Miss," Isiah replied, his expression somber. "It could be anyone. Birmingham is a dangerous place, after all, that's why your husband has me looking after you when he isn't around." 
You nodded slowly, still trying to make sense of it all. Your mind kept drifting back to Thomas and the possessiveness he had shown towards you. You wondered if there was a connection between his behavior and Michael's murder.
But the thought of Thomas being capable of such a thing was impossible for you to comprehend. He had never shown any violent tendencies towards you and had always been kind and gentle. Yet, you couldn't ignore the feeling that something wasn't quite right.
Later that day, when your husband returned home, you couldn't help but observe him closely. He was charming and polite as always, his eyes softening when they met yours. But there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before.
"Is everything okay, Thomas?" you asked, your voice hesitant as you stepped closer to him.
"Of course, Love," Thomas replied, his voice soothing as he pulled you into his embrace. "Why do you ask?"
"I just...I read about Michael Grosvenor today," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It said that he was found dead by the docks," you told him and Tommy simply nodded before running his fingers over your cheek. 
"I'm sorry to hear that," he then said, but there was no emotion in his voice. It was as if he were discussing the weather instead of a man's untimely death.
"Me too. He was a nice man," you replied, your voice distant as you tried to keep your emotions in check. You pulled back from Thomas and looked up at him, your eyes searching for any hint of what he might be feeling.
Thomas looked down at you, his expression unreadable. There was a moment of silence between you as you both waited for the other to say something. Finally, Thomas spoke up.
"I missed you today , Love," Thomas' voice was low and husky, his eyes darkening with desire a he ought to change the topic. 
"I missed you too, Tommy," you whispered, your voice trembling. You knew better than to bring Michael's name up again , knowing full well how jealous Thomas could become. So, you pushed the thought out of your mind and focused on the present moment with your husband.
Thomas' hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I'm glad," Thomas replied, his lips brushing against your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "Because I had a really long day today and all I want to do right now is fuck my wife." 
"Tommy, stop," you gasped. "I have dinner in the oven," you protested, your voice weak as he trailed kisses down your neck. "It's almost ready."
But Thomas didn't seem to care about dinner. His hands were already undoing the buttons of your blouse, his fingers deft and quick as he exposed your bare skin.
"Fuck dinner, eh," Thomas growled, his mouth finding the curve of your breast as he tugged your blouse off and let it fall to the floor.  "I need you. Right fucking now."
You gasped as he took your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak until you were writhing against him, desperate for more. He reached down between your legs, tearing your panties aside as he stroked your wet folds with his fingers.
"You're so fucking wet for me," Thomas murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he pressed a finger inside of you. "Always so ready for me."
You moaned softly, your hips bucking upward as he added a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way. He rubbed his thumb over your clit, making you gasp as pleasure shot through your body.
"Thomas," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life. 
"Bend over my desk ," Thomas growled, his eyes blazing with a raw, primal hunger.
Your legs trembled as you obeyed his commands, turning around and bending over.
"Perfect," Thomas growled, his hands moving to your hips as he positioned himself behind you and unbuckled his belt.
He then unzipped his pants, pulled them down with his boxers and pushed aside your panties. 
You gasped as you felt him press the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with what was to come.
Thomas' grip on your hips tightened as he thrust inside of you with one swift motion. You cried out at the sudden invasion, your walls stretching around him as he buried himself deep within you.
Thomas set a relentless pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing through the room as he moved in and out of you.
"You feel so fucking good," Thomas grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he powered into you. "So tight and warm around my cock."
You moaned as he hit your sweet spot, your walls clenching around him as pleasure spiked through your body.
"Fuck, Y/N, you're going to make me cum like this," Thomas growled, his thrusts becoming erratic.
You could tell he was close, but you weren't quite there yet. You needed something more...something extra to push you over the edge.
As if reading your mind, Thomas reached around and pressed his thumb against your clit. You moaned as he strummed the sensitive bundle of nerves, each stroke sending lances of sensation straight to your core.
"Yes, just like that," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't stop."
Thomas grunted in response, his hips moving faster as he fucked you harder. You could feel yourself getting close, the familiar heat coiling low in your belly. It wouldn't be long now...until suddenly it hit you.  Your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling with pleasure.
"Fuck, Love..." he groaned. "Please let me come inside you," Thomas' voice was husky and raw with desire.
"No, you can't cum inside me," you said, your own voice breathless with pleasure.
"Please Y/N. Let me fill you up. Let me claim you as mine in every possible way," Thomas pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire, as he continued to pump in and out of your slick heat.
You bit your lip, unsure what to do. Part of you wanted to let him, wanted to feel him cum inside of you, but there was another part of you that knew it was a terrible idea.
"I can't Tommy. I am not ready," you moaned, your hips bucking as he grazed your g-spot with each thrust. Falling pregnant wasn't an option for you, not yet at least and Tommy knew that all too well. 
Groaning in frustration, he pulled out of you at the last possible second, spilling his seed upon your lower back in hot, white streams. The combination of your orgasm and his release left him feeling weak at the knees, but he still managed to reach for his handkerchief and clean you up.
You watched him as he worked, your chest heaving with exertion and pleasure. Your muscles felt like jelly and you could barely muster up enough energy to stand on your own two feet.
Thomas helped you straighten up and pulled up your panties before he righted his own clothing and fastened his belt.
He turned you around and pulled you into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed a soft kiss on your lips.
"I'm sorry, Love," Thomas whispered, his voice low and rough. "I couldn't help myself. I had to ask." 
You smiled up at him, your fingertips tracing the line of his jaw. "It's okay Tommy," you replied softly.  "One day soon, I'll be ready."
Thomas nodded, his chin resting on top of your head as he held you close. He didn't want to pressure you, but the thought of filling you up with his seed, marking you as his own in the most primal way possible, was driving him wild with desire. 
"I know, Love," Thomas murmured. "You are still young."  Thomas said, his voice barely above a whisper against your ear as he held you close. "And sometimes I seem to forget that," your husband added, a hint of regret in his tone.
Thomas' hands trailed down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He pulled back from you just enough to look into your eyes.
"You know I love you, right?" Thomas asked, his voice soft and sincere and, of course, you nodded.
"I love you too, Tommy," you replied, your voice just as sincere.
You believed in the truth of those words with every fiber of your being. You loved Thomas Shelby more than anything or anyone in this world and he knew it. But what he didn't know is that there were times when you felt like something was missing between the two of you. Something fundamental that should hold a marriage together but seemed to be absent in yours. You couldn't put your finger on it and that was probably why you never brought it up.  It wasn't anything tangible, just a feeling that lingered in the pit of your stomach. It only made itself known when Thomas was away on business and even then, it wasn't always present.
There was something about him and his life you did not know or understand, but you were too afraid to ask.
And even if you did ask, Thomas would never tell you.
It was one of those things that people kept to themselves.
One of those taboos only whispered about behind closed doors.
There were many rumors, but you never gave them much thought, always writing them off as malicious gossip meant to bring down a great man.
But still, the feeling remained and you couldn't shake it off no matter how hard you tried.
There was a darkness within him that you had only caught glimpses of, but it made you wonder what truly went on in his mind.
That night, after the intense love-making session and dinner, your husband had some more business matters to attend to and, again, you didn't question him.
"When will you be back?" you asked , your voice soft as you watched Thomas gather his things.
"I don't know, Love," Thomas replied, his expression apologetic. "I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. Not yet. It's just...it's complicated."
You nodded, understanding that this was part of the territory when you married a man like Thomas Shelby. You were used to the uncertainty by now, but that didn't mean it was easy. You swallowed past the lump in your throat and forced a smile on your face.
"It's okay, Tommy," you assured him. "I understand. I'll be here when you get back."
That was all you could do, really. Wait for him to return and hope that everything would be alright. Sometimes, the uncertainty was almost too much to bear, but you loved Thomas too much to let it come between you.
He leaned down and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips before heading out the door. You watched him leave, your heart heavy as you closed the door behind him.
The house felt empty without him, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness settling in. You walked around the house, touching the ornate furniture and fine artwork that filled the space, each piece a reflection of Thomas' wealth and power.
As you moved through the rooms, taking in the beauty of your surroundings, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnect from it all. The opulence and luxury were overwhelming, and you wondered if this was truly the life you wanted to live.
In the end, you retreated to your husband's office in the search for some good whiskey and a pen and paper.  You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, not until Thomas was home safe and sound. You poured yourself a generous glass of whiskey and settled down in the comfortable leather chair behind Thomas's desk.
The amber liquid burned pleasantly in your throat as you took a deep sip, warming your body as it coursed through your veins. Your eyes landed on the pen and paper that lay next to the decanter, and on a whim, you decided to write down your feelings, something you hadn't done in a long time.
It was a simple task, writing down your thoughts and emotions, but it felt good to get everything out of your system and onto the page. As you wrote, the words flowed freely from your mind to your hand and before long, you had filled up the entire page with ink.
As you read through what you had written, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and you felt lighter than you had in a long time.
You continued to write for hours, pouring your heart and soul onto the page until there was nothing left to say.
When you got the last piece of paper however, you noticed something strange. There was a key hidden beneath the pile of  sheets. Frowning, you picked it up, turning it over between your fingers. It was small and made of brass, the keychain a simple ring with the letters 'BP' engraved into it.
Calling for one of the maids, you enquired about the key but even Frances did not know what it was meant to open.
You thanked her nonetheless before curiosity got the better of you , and you decided to embark on your own little investigation.
You started with doors, then cabinets, even trying it in some of the antique jewelry boxes belonging to Tommy's late first wife, Grace. 
But it seemed that the key was made for neither of those things.
As you made your way through the mansion, you continued to search for any possible place it could fit. It wasn't until you reached the cellar that you found the answer.
The cellar was dimly lit, with rows upon rows of wine bottles lining the walls. It felt like a completely different world compared to the luxurious and bright atmosphere of the mansion above and after looking around for a while, you came across an old desk in the corner of the cellar, cluttered with old papers and knick-knacks. It looked untouched for years, gathering dust and cobwebs.
You approached it, drawn to it for some reason. You ran your fingers over the dusty surface, feeling the history of the mansion seep into your skin.
Then you saw it - a large, old looking lockbox nestled in between two old books.
Your heart raced as you pulled out the brass key from your pocket and inserted it into the lock.
You held your breath as you turned the key, listening for the sound of the tumblers falling into place. With a soft click, the lock disengaged and you slowly lifted the lid, revealing the box's contents which comprised of sheets of paper and photographs.
You had not expected to find anything particularly interesting in the lockbox, but as you sifted through the contents, you discovered that the papers and photographs all related to you and the past life that you had lived.
There were photographs of you and the respective men you had been with in the past. There were employment records, family records and even health records . It was like staring into a mirror that reflected the life you had lived before Thomas Shelby came along, dating back to when you were much younger than you are now.
Then there were photographs and records for each of your past boyfriends too and if this wasn't enough already, accompanied with them were police reports relating to their deaths.  Everything was organized and compiled in a neat manner, almost like a journal, but the sheer gravity of it all left you feeling cold and numb.
Your parents and brother had a file as well , each bearing details of their lives and deaths and whilst it was clear that your parents had passed by accident, the disappearance of your brother and ex-lovers didn't seem to be such a random occurrence anymore.
Unbeknownst to you, all of them were dead . Vanished into thin air, or rather, killed and disposed of methodically.
You felt a chill run down your spine as you came across the stack of obituaries, the names and faces staring back at you, only further confirming what was once unthinkable.
"Oh my god!"  you gasped, your hands shaking as you dropped the obituaries and stumbled back, your heart pounding in your chest. "What is this? What does it mean?"
You knew the answer before the question even left your lips. The evidence was right in front of you, impossible to ignore.
Your now husband had been spying on you for a while , keeping a detailed record of your past relationships and ultimately ensuring that each one of those men met an untimely end so that he could claim you one day.
"No, it can't be," you whispered to yourself, your voice shaking with fear and confusion. 
But as you continued to sift through the contents of the lockbox, the truth became increasingly apparent. Thomas Shelby wasn't the man you thought he was. He was controlling, manipulative, and dangerous in ways you could never have imagined and when, eventually, you heard his voice ringing out from the top of the stairs, you couldn't help but feel your stomach drop.
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@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22
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reiding-writing · 3 days
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Hiii! Could i request prompts 17 and 23 from the angsty prompt list? It could have an angsty ending or a fluffy one, I'll leave that up to you!
Btw congrats on hitting such an amazing milestone and I cannot wait for you to accomplish your next one!!!!! <3333
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FATE [CLIMACTERIC]
/feɪt/
17. “This can only end one way.”
23. “Just a little longer.”
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WARNINGS: hostage situation, guns, injury, death
spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 1.7k || event masterlist!!
a/n: enjoy :)
main masterlist!!
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“This is a pretty nice gun you’ve got isn’t it?” Spencer’s revolver gleams under the hanging light bulb like it’s trying to taunt him, light and pliant in the unsub’s hand as he examines it with a raised eyebrow. “I always preferred the classics,” He gives a glance to your discarded 19mm with a narrowed gaze before turning his eyes back to Spencer. “You’ve got good taste,”
Spencer doesn’t reply to his comment, his eyes fixated on anywhere but above him so that he doesn’t have to look at the smug look on the unsub’s face as he taunts them. You don’t exactly share the same sentiment.
You’ve got your eyes locked straight onto his face with an absolutely heinous scowl riddling your features, leaving wrinkle lines in your eyebrows and a dark shadow underneath your nose. He never liked it when you looked like that, it didn’t suit you, he much preferred positivity on you, and he has no qualms in thinking that you preferred it too.
Apparently so did the unsub, his expression turning sour under your harsh glare and his already antagonistic demeanour heightening as a result. “Who do you think you’re looking at like that?”
If you weren’t tied down to a chair Spencer’s sure you would’ve ripped the man to pieces based on his tone alone. But you knew your boundaries, what to do and what to refrain from, and so you kept your mouth firmly shut as the unsub approached you with Spencer’s revolver in hand. “You think you’re strong because you’re in the FBI? That your badge makes you invincible?”
Your gaze doesn’t waver as he presses the barrel of the gun to the underside of your chin to force your gaze further upwards, but Spencer can tell in the way that your wrists shift against each other uncomfortably that your confidence is merely a facade to hide the waves of anxiety crashing over your body like a tsunami.
“Would you like me to prove that wrong?” The unsub’s voice drops a little as he leans down towards your face, sliding the barrel of the gun past your chin until the muzzle is pressed directly against your larynx with enough pressure to make you twitch unconsciously.
The way he pulls the hammer back with his thumb to turn the chamber with a loud click is enough for Spencer’s composure to break.
“Wait—” His tone is almost entirely desperation, and the unsub’s eyes flicker over to him with a glaze of amusement.
“Got something to say?”
Spencer did not think this through very well.
“Go on, spit it out,” The unsub lets his arm fall limp so that the revolver isn’t held at your throat anymore, but it’s clear that neither of you are in the clear as he gestures for Spencer to continue talking with the gun pointed in his direction instead.
“You don’t have to do this…”
“Reid—” You seethe his name through your teeth with a sharp but subtle shake of your head as a clear indication for him to stop talking.
This wasn’t the kind of person you try to negotiate with. You couldn’t talk someone like this off the ledge, you could only talk them over it. If either of you wanted to make it out alive you both needed to stay silent until SWAT arrived to get you both out of there.
The unsub seems more amused by Spencer’s attempt at negotiation than anything, a gravely laugh emanating from his throat. “We both know this can only end one way, why try and fight it?”
“We don’t deserve to die—” It sounds more like a plea than a statement, and all it does is elicit another laugh from the unsub.
“You know what? That’s bold, I respect that,” The unsub gestures towards Spencer with the gun still in hand, and he can’t help but flinch as it’s pointed in his direction. “Why don’t we make this a little more interesting hm? A little game?”
The unsub presses on the chamber release of the revolver and shakes out the bullets from inside it, leaving them to clatter over the floor. “I’m sure you’re both aware of the concept of russian roulette yes?” He bends down to pick up one of the discarded bullets to replace it into the chamber, clicking it closed and spinning it with his left hand.
“One shot at both of you, the bullet doesn’t fire, you both get to live, if it does, well, you know what happens,”
It sounds like a terrible deal from your point of view, you’d much rather keep trying to stall for time than play this stupid little game that will probably end with one of you not making it out of the building, but Spencer makes the decision for you with a sharp nod.
“Perfect,” The unsub gives Spencer a smile, a smile that rips right through him and makes him feel like he’s going to throw up. “Let’s get started shall we?” He pockets the gun for a moment to rearrange the chairs your bound to so that you’re sat facing each other instead of beside each other, close enough that your knees collide.
“Everything’s gonna be fine,” Spencer doesn’t even bother trying to lower his voice away from the unsub in his attempt at ridding the dread in your expression. “Just a little longer,”
You give him a short nod, pressing your lips together into a line as you try to convince him—and yourself— that you believe him.
“Very sweet,” You flinch as the unsub’s hand lands on your shoulder, and he extends the revolver over your other to point directly at Spencer’s face, leaning his own down to speak next to your ear. “Where should I aim hm? Should I shoot him between his eyes and put him out of his misery quickly, or should I go for his neck and let him bleed out for a while?”
You squeeze your eyes shut like it’s going to block out his voice, and Spencer tries to do it for you by talking over him. “The chances of it going wrong are less than twelve percent, even less for you at ten point eight, we’re both going to be fine—”
There’s a harsh click as the gun sounds next to the side of your face, and the two of you physically jump.
Then there’s a moment of silence and you pry your eyes open to see Spencer still very much alive and well, if not more than mentally shaken.
“Would you look at that, fate is on your side today,” The unsub leaves your side to walk over to Spencer’s, squeezing his shoulder with his hand. “Looks like you get to go home, congratulations, I wonder if the same can be said about your friend here,”
You don’t know whether having the gun pointed at you was more or less anxiety inducing than being an unwilling bystander to watching Spencer on it’s receiving end, but either way you feel like your organs are failing just at the sight of it.
“There’s an eighty-nine point two percent chance that nothing happens,” Spencer shakes his head at the implication the unsub is laying out. “There’s really no point in even going through with it,”
“Is that right?” The unsub seems completely undeterred by Spencer’s attempt, resting his arm over Spencer’s shoulder with the gun extended only a few inches from your forehead. “Why are you nervous then? Surely if you’re so confident in your probabilities you wouldn’t be so scared,”
“Don’t listen to him. You’re going to be fine, I promise.” Spencer speaks with more conviction this time, his eyes narrowed in determination and not a waver present in his voice. “We’re both going to get out of here and leave all of this behind us.”
“Okay…” You take a small breath in through your nose with a nod. “I believe yo—”
There’s another click, then a much louder bang, and your sentence gets cut off before it can finish, a splatter of red echoing its finish as it sprays over the hardwood under your feet.
Everything is jarring silent for a second, and then your head and shoulders slump forward and there’s a sharp laugh of astonishment from the unsub, bouncing through Spencer’s ears and settling in one of the caverns of his mind to torment him at a later date.
“Wow, now that was something,” The unsub’s words are punctuated by small laughs, and he pats his hand against Spencer’s unmoving frame with all of the enthusiasm of if he’d watched a sports team score a point. “Did you see the way the blood spray came out of the back of their head? That was insane,”
Spencer didn’t respond to the unsub’s musings, no twitch of the eye or flare of the nose, he didn’t even blink, eyes solely locked on to your lifeless frame as you slumped over in the chair, held up only by the ropes still wrapped around your torso whilst the blood from your forehead dripped down onto your thighs.
He didn’t even have the mental capacity t feel relief at the sound of the building being swarmed by the SWAT team, less than two minutes from being there in time to get you both out of there alive.
To save you from Spencer’s misjudgement.
To save you from your blind trust in him that left you executed at the hands of his own revolver.
Fate had truly and utterly fucked him over.
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flor4de4amor · 2 days
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𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞!
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you’re abby’s favorite bartender at her favorite dive bar. she doesn’t take to kindly to people disrespecting her best girl.
warnings: alcohol is mentioned + slight violence
click for palestine! read before engaging with my acc+work
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Abby is a regular at your bar. Well, regular is a kind way to put it. At this point, she lives in the dive bar. She’s head over heels for you but has decided obnoxious flirting every happy hour, and a sliver of your attention will suffice. 
Her routine is simple:
Order a beer. From her favorite bartender of course. If anyone offers to serve her it’s deny, deny, deny. She can only accept alcoholic content from her best girl.
Shoot some darts, play some pool, chugging contest. Blah, blah, blah. It’s only fun if she sees you sneaking glances from your station, shooting you a wink while she engages with her team. She likes seeing how flustered she can get you with a thin-lipped smile and wink alone. And the answer is very flustered.
Once she’s seen you steal enough glances, it’s time to go back to the bar and bother you. Sure, order another drink. But, also, flirt with the gorgeous girl serving her. Is that a new shirt? Your hair looks so pretty tonight. She loves the necklace you’re wearing, situated real well between your tits. 
Then stay on the barstool, all night, up until she’s one of the last patrons in the bar. Even though,  she’s gotta be up running drills quite soon after your shift ends. But it’s worth it. If she can make you laugh at least once.
Every time. Without fail. That’s Abby’s routine, and tonight was no different. 
Well, except for the fact that there was some asshole bothering you while you worked. Doesn’t he know that’s her job? Only she can bother you, she’s the only one who does it right. Besides, you looked annoyed while he was talking to you. You never looked annoyed when Abby flirted. Always brushing your fingers on her bicep, giggling as she flexed, giving her a hard time for flinching after a shot. You relished in her attention even. You looked like you wanted to throw up while this guy was talking to you. Abby personally, wants to throw him a punch. Instead, she rolls her eyes and fiddles with the toothpick between her teeth, before calling you over to her. The night’s still early, maybe he’ll back off. She hasn't gotten her slice of your attention yet, so she refuses to let that be cut short. 
“Hey, princess!” She uses a hand motion towards you. Your face lights up as you walk towards her freckled face. You hadn't spoken many words to her all night. It was a relief to see the pilot in her designated stool. 
You throw your towel over your shoulder and place your hands on your hips. “How can I help you, Captain Anderson?” Your tongue pokes between your lips, a coy smile protruding.
Abby rolls her eyes. “I hate when you call me that.” She sighs playfully, “I only let my favorite bartenders call me Abby y’know.” 
You place your hand over your heart, flinching, “Silly me thinking I was the only one.” 
Abby whistles lowly at you. “None of them are half as pretty as you, baby.” She watches as you turn your head to the side shyly. She’s already got you flustered and the night’s just begun. She hasn’t even started throwing darts and flexing muscles with her squad yet.
It’s your turn to roll your eyes now. “Promise?” you flirt shamelessly, curious as to what she’ll say.
“Scout’s honor princess,” she kisses three of her fingers and holds them up.
You laugh at her actions. Only Abby can have you laughing at work. In a sticky bar, tight shirt, and light hangover still cascading over you. “Okay, Abby,” You say her name sickeningly sweet. She almost bends over to her knees. “What can I get you tonight?” She smiles, tapping the paper coaster on the countertop, pretending to think. “I’m gonna go with the usual tonight babe.”
You smile, “Boring but expected.” You go to grab a glass and fill it up with ice as a deep baritone fills your ears. “Princess,” the man calls. This new customer was evidently, not privy to the unspoken rules of the bar. He winks at Abby expecting some comradery from a nickname alone. As if friendships are built off disrespecting women. 
You cringe at the nickname and don’t reply. Your legs only move to that call when it’s your favorite captain calling you.
“Oh c’mon don’t be that way.” The man continues. “What? You want a different nickname?” Abby’s jaw is clenched so tightly, that she's sure her molars have cracked. She’s clenching her fist to the point that the white of her knuckles is apparent. 
“She doesn’t respond to that,” Abby replies to the asshole. “She’s got a name.” This man is new sure, but definitely an idiot. He’s choosing to continue squaring off with the Abby Anderson. You know better. You wouldn't disrespect her even with all the alcohol in the world flooding your system. You’ve seen her in a bar fight. She’s never lost.  
“What is this your girlfriend?” He laughs drunkenly. “I mean I’m into that sort of thing,” he snorts to himself. “Why don’t you give us all a little kiss?” He continues chuckling like he’s some world-class comedian. Though, Abby doesn’t seem to find him funny. 
She runs her hand over her face. She looks at you for a moment. “Princess,” she leans in whispering, “How many bar fights in me until you said I was banned?”
You lean closer to her, whispering back, “I don’t think I’m allowed to ban the champ.” Smiling cheekily at her. She winks and clicks her tongue. That’s all she needs as reassurance to kick this guy’s ass.
She gets up from the stool, walking closer to him. Though Abby oozes dominance, when she’s standing over you it’s hard not to shit your pants. She places her hands square atop this guy’s shoulders. “I’m gonna give you just one chance to apologize to my pretty girl or else you’re gonna be banned.” 
The man brandishes off a drunk grin that’s missing two front teeth. “Ban? Me? Ban me? Nah.”
Abby rolls her eyes, “So that’s a no?” She doesn’t even give the guy a chance to answer before punching him straight in the jaw. “See someone else has had the common sense to knock two teeth from that ugly mug of yours, what’s a few more?” She mutters to herself.  There’s slight commotion, but it dies down quickly with the rest of Abby’s aviator squad coming quickly behind her. Beers still in hand, foam coating a few mustaches they ask her what happened. She wrings out her hand, “Go take his picture for the wall of shame and dump him outside.” She huffs, watching her lieutenants follow her orders.
Abby comes to sit by you in her same old worn-down barstool. She smiles as you give her a bag of ice for her hand. “What number fight is that?” You ask her softly and playfully.
“For you or in this bar?” She’s got that look in her eye, nothing but trouble.
You roll your eyes, “Don’t answer a question with a question.” You being to make the drink you never got to give the dirty blonde.
“You’re bossy tonight,” she muses, accepting the drink once you hand it to her, chugging quickly. “Fighting makes me thirsty she muses.”
You repress a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “So Captain,” you drag out the tightly slightly. Watching as Abby raises her eyebrow at you.
“Princess,” she replies with an edge to her voice. 
“When’re you gonna bite the bullet and ask me out? Hasn’t total endless flirting with me gotten boring?” You lean against the bar top, cleavage spilling from your low-cut top. 
“How about now?” Abby works hard to make sure her eyes don’t come to your spillage. She works overtime in doing so even. It’s torturous.
You hum, “Beating up drinkies doesn’t count as a date you know?” You smile at her, propping your face against your hand.
“Our first date wouldn’t be here,” she smiles toothily. “If that’s the case, we’ve had plenty of dates while I sat in this barstool. We’re married even.” She grins at you.
Your tongue licks your lips, “Moving fast, aren’t you? Focus on the first date, Anderson.”
“Yeah get used to saying that last name, ‘cause it’ll be yours,” she clicks her tongue and winks at you. “How about I come to grab you this weekend? A nice dinner, me you, and no drunks up your ass.” 
“Does this mean I’ll finally be seeing you out of that old navy uniform Anderson?” Your smile captivates your face as you tease her. Only you would make fun of her while she’s trying to ask you out.
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t go home on the first date.” She teases, laughing softly, ‘cause it’s far from true.
“Liar,” you call her out on her shit, carefully grasping the glinting dog tags that lay around her neck. You pull her in for a kiss, for a moment there’s cheering. You know it’s from her rowdy lieutenants. You smile against her lips and pull away. “I’ll see you this weekend?” You say looking at her loved face.
“Sure thing princess.” She’s stunned. “You know what? Put a round on my tab, for celebration.” She reaffirms.
“No doubt captain,” you smile mocking a salute.
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divider by @aqualogia
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finniestoncrane · 14 hours
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PREWAR COOPER STUFFS ❤️‍🔥 DESPERATELY needing some fluffy morning after/Sunday morning routine with his wifey 😩👏 him being VERY grabby and just an absolute horndog dkfnfnrk (he is down bad for reader)
Morning, Sunshine
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k hello post divorce cooper, please hit me up, i'll make you eggs (also post-divorce barb i know you're a baddie but that's just my type so i'll make you eggs too pls lemme make you eggs too...ANYWAY) but please this is so cute and i have made it gender neutral as you corrected so everyone enjoy being cooper's little chef and getting caressed by this hungover idiot 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw:
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Cooper stumbled into the kitchen, his feet shuffling on the floor as though they were made of lead, unable to lift them any higher. He groaned as the light from the windows assaulted him, and you smiled without turning to him, offering a brief, hushed 'good morning'. He returned the greeting with a groan. His entire body felt weighed down, the ache of sleeping in one position all night, lacked out in a drunken stupor after he had pawed at you and attempted to fuck the lingering stress out of his body.
And now he was in his own kitchen, messy from the small gathering of friends from the night before, stressed once more and hungover as shit to boot.
But there you were, by the stove, the source of the wonderful smell that had woken him up and had him drifting from the sancutary of his dark bedroom to face the world. Even when he was hungover, or sick, or just too damn tired to accept reality, he did it anyway. Who knew how many more mornings there were for him to see? That looming threat, the dark secret he had to keep to himself, one not even Barb knew was the real reason for their divorce. The source of his agonies, but also, the reason he felt so inspired to wake up each morning and spend as much of the time he had left with you as possible.
"I wasn't expecting you out of bed any time beforeat least midday, Coop."
"Then you shouldn't have started cooking something so god damn delicious."
His voice grew closer as he made his way, instinctually, towards you.
"I'm sorry, did it wake you up?"
"It did, but there's nothing to apologise for."
He was behind you now as you stood in front of the burners, a pan in your hand, your signature omelette cooking over the heat, your grip wobbling a little as Cooper looped his arms around your body. Everything he did stole your attention, pulling your focus with his charismatic personality, the way he commanded a room the moment he entered. And it didn't help that he had begun to kiss at your neck, letting his lips drag along your prickling skin as he moved down to your shoulder, nuzzling back into you as he sighed. The satisfied moan on the exhale had your stomach tensing, eliciting a soft moan of your own in reply.
"You want me to make you something to eat?"
"Please, darlin'. If that isn't a bother."
"Never is for you, Mr Howard. You get a coffee and take a seat, I'll be right with you."
Once he was seated with his mug, the morning newspaper to the side of the place setting at the kitchen island, you turned from the stove to plate up the omelette for him. It was the first you had properly looked at him that morning, and you could feel your breath hitching as you took him in. Even in this state, bedraggled, skin greasy with a sheen of sweat, hair unkempt and slicked back in messy waves, his breath, which you could smell over the countertop, still tainted with the cocktails he’d been making the night before. Even with all of that, he was still the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. And those same eyes couldn’t help but fall to his chest, his robe hanging open, exposing his torso down to his navel.
You wondered if he’d bothered to find any underwear to put on before covering himself with the short robe when he’d stumbled out of bed.
“Oh, sweetheart. You made this for yourself.”
“You eat first, I’ll make one for myself just now.”
Cooper flashed you a grin, one you remembered seeing so often in press photos, at promotional events.
“You really are a doll, know that?”
You returned his smile, turning back to the stove as he ate a few bites of the omelette with a satisfied groan. Cooper took a sip of coffee, watching you over the top of the mug. Every day could be the last. He didn’t want to believe it, but it always hung in the back of his mind. He’d lost Barb to Vaut-Tec, lost Janey, at least partly, to the divorce. He’d lost his sense of security to the war, his work to the paranoia that had burrowed inside of him. You were all he had now, and intended to cling to you with everything he had. Holding your hand tight at the party last night, clutching your body in the bed as he fucked you, passionate, desperate. His fingers entwined in yours as you slept, then holding you in his arms, your body smooth and warm.
Cooper stood up from his chair, unintentionally quiet to the point where you didn’t even notice he had moved until he was right behind you again, pressing himself against you so tight that you could feel the beginnings of his erection pushing into you. With a firm hand, he took your wrist, guiding you to set down the pan, switching the stove off and turning you in a choreographed spin so that you were facing him, your chests together, eyes trained on one another.
“You got enough ingredients for another, right?”
“Uh… yeah? Why?”
“I just think it might be ruined by the time I’m finished with you.”
His hands slipped down from your lower back, cupping both of your cheeks as he raised his eyebrows in a silent, questioning plea. Every moment with you was precious to him, every inch of your body worth placing a kiss to, worth tasting and savouring. Why not make the most of your time together by making sure you were as close to each other, as pleasured and satisfied, as possible?
So, when you blushed, biting your lip and giggling, he knew you agreed, and he took your hand and pulled you back to the comfort of the bedroom with you, hoping to relieve himself of a little more stress.
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flemingsfreckles · 21 hours
Text
Personal Shopper
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Synopsis: based off this request of reader helping Jessie shop for new clothes
Warnings: nothing, it’s fluffy
WC: 1.2k
A/N: here’s some fluff to ease your mind with all the angst I’ve put out recently :)
“I feel like I look silly.” Jessie voice came over the top of the dressing room.
“Just show me.” You were sat outside on a bench, waiting patiently for your girlfriend to try on and show you the mountain of clothes you had picked out for her.
“No.”
“Jessie come on!” You encouraged her. “Just let me see.”
It was no secret to anyone that Jessie could use some wardrobe help, you had heard her teammates tease her for years, she even mentioned it herself on numerous occasions. She was quick to pick up a sweatshirt and throw on the same black Nike shirt and black hat that she always wore. When it came to fancier clothing, she was even worse, owning a couple of plain button ups and a few pairs of solid color slacks.
After she had complained one too many times about her wardrobe and not knowing what to wear, for your own liking. So you had taken her to various stores, spent hours looking through racks and piles of clothing, trying to find something for the Canadian.
She cracked open the door. Peaking out at you, “Don’t laugh please.”
You shake your head at her, “I won’t, I’m never going to laugh at you for trying something on.”
She opens the door fully for you to see her outfit. She had thrown on a plain black shirt, more tightly fitting than her regular choice of shirt. The shirt showed off more of her figure than her standard Nike black shirt. She had also put on a nice pair of pants. Black and white in a small checkered print.
“Oh wow.” You can’t help but let the words fall out of your mouth when your eyes scan Jessie head to toe. It wasn’t often that you got to see her dressed up.
“Stop.” She gives you a firm look.
“No babe, it looks so good.” You admire her for another second before looking to her face. She looked uncomfortable. “You don’t like it?”
“I don’t know, it’s just,” she turns back to the mirror to look at herself. “It’s different.”
“Okay.” You come up to rub her shoulders. “If you’re uncomfortable in it, don’t buy it because then you’ll never wear it. But it looks nice, so if you’re just uncomfortable because it’s new, then that’s okay.”
“I like the shirt.”
“Jess it’s a plain black shirt of course you like it.”
“Yeah but the fit is different, it’s tighter.” It was, her biceps were being restrained by the fabric, it was tight across her chest and shoulders, it looked good, a little too good given you were in public.
“Alright, try it on with another pair of bottoms then.” You push her in the direction of the changing room. She out a huff but closes the door and changes again.
Jessie hadn’t been super thrilled when you dragged her from store to store, she knew she wanted new clothes, a new style but it was the actual act of shopping and trying on that she hated so much. You on the other hand were thrilled Jessie had finally asked for your help.
You didn’t mind her clothes, they were never an issue to you, but they were an issue to Jessie which then made them your issue when she would come to you asking to borrow your clothes because she didn’t want to wear anything she had. You liked seeing her in your clothes, but you decided it was time she was happy with her own wardrobe.
The issue was not just having clothes but it was the fact that Jessie didn’t know how she wanted to dress. To be fair to her, the majority of her life is spent in athletic clothing, a game kit, training kit, or in some form of a team branded shirt, sweatshirt, or sweatpants. When she’d get home from training or a game she’d usually slip into another pair of athletic shorts or sweats, only throwing on jeans and a simple shirt if you were going out.
“I think I like these better.” Jessie opens the door, she’s got on the same black shirt, now paired with a pair of maroon dress slacks.
“Those look nice on you.” You let her look at herself in the mirror again, she turns looking at the back of the pants. “They make your ass look good, don’t worry.” You give her a smile in the mirror as she rolls her eyes.
She looks at them for a couple more seconds, contemplating the pants. “I think I’ll get these.” She finally decides. “And the shirt.”
“Okay take them off, put your jeans back on and try this on.” You had her a couple of linen button up shirts.
“Ughhh.” She groaned as she turned back into the dressing room, the linen shirts in her hand.
Jessie comes out in the sage green shirt, her jeans from home back on. She’s got a smile on her face.
“You like it?” You ask, hopeful based on her smile.
“Yeah, it actually feels comfortable, it doesn’t feel like I’m wearing a costume or someone else’s clothes.” Jessie looks at you for your opinion.
“That color looks good on you.”
“Yeah it’s different but I like it.” You could see the genuine smile on her face, it made you happy, seeing her satisfied with something she was trying on. She spins in the mirror one more time before closing the door behind her.
She comes out a moment later with the maroon pants, black shirt and linen shirt in one hand. The black and white checkered pants in the other. Jessie places the black and white pants back on the rack and then makes her way over to the display of linen shirts. You watch as she picks up one in white, blue, black, and a coral color adding them to the pile of clothes she was holding.
Jessie must’ve noticed the strange look you gave her as she turned around with the shirts in her arms. “What?”
“Nothing.” You say with a small shake to your head.
“I like the shirt, it’s comfortable. I’m ready to check out.” She knew you were questioning the fact that she just grabbed four identical shirts to the one already in her hand.
“I know.” You hold your arms out to her to offer to hold the shirts. “Whatever you want babe.” Sure it wasn’t what you had in mind when you had taken her shopping but at least she was walking out with something new that she liked, you couldn’t complain too much.
You watched as Jessie checked out, refusing to let you pay for any of the clothing for her. She did however make you carry the bags with all the clothes, which you did happily.
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heartfullofleeches · 12 hours
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What if darling orders from a different restaurant and brie coincidentally arrives right when the actual delivery person does? I feel like he'd be jealous af
Yan "Pizza Boy" + Reader
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Who is that-
Arriving at your street, tires screech to a hault as your home rolls into view. The driver takes a second look. Then a third - knuckles white as fingers clench around the steering wheel.
A car he's never seen before sits in the little parking spot outside your house. His parking spot. Some old, beat up hatchback painted the ugliest shade of blue he'd ever seen - tape covering its left tail light and bumper held on by zip ties. By now, the delivery boy has made enough visits to your home to recognize cars of your friends and loved ones. Who is this? The flickering sign atop the rusting hunk of metal lifted some of the weight from his shoulders - only to crush him with a new fear as the other driver casual steps out of his vehicle, carrying bag strapped to his shoulder.
"Oh, hell no-"
Brie curses under his breath - pulling into your neighbor's driveway with one hand on the wheel as he reaches into the passenger seat with the other. He quickly gathers his things, kicking the driver's side door open as he goes to exit - hissing in frustration as his seat belt digs into the flesh of his neck. He unbuckles himself, shutting the door behind him with the heel of his sneaker as he races across your neighbor's yard. He slows down to carefully step over their hedges right as the other delivery person reaches your porch. Brie curses again-
"Oh my God! There's someone hiding in the back of that blue car with the dirty windows!"
The delivery person runs off back to their car. With little time to celebrate his victory, Brie marches up to your front door and rings the doorbell. You looked surprised - yet oddly happy to see him. His heart flutters.
"You?"
Brie beans from ear to ear "Yup! It's me! Got another pizza for you here. Same as the last."
"Thank you, but I already ordered from someplace else. Couldn't find anywhere nearby with alfredo sauce pizza so I had to settle for the usual."
You were looking for him?.... The place he works for that is. Brie shoves the box against your chest, biting down the scream ready to escape. "Don't worry, this one's on the house too. We're still experimenting with the recipe so it isn't available on our menu yet. I'm sure my boss will be happy to hear you enjoyed it."
"Well... Since it's free I guess it wouldn't hurt to take it off your hands. Won't have to order out for a week at this rate. Do you have a number I can reach you at?"
Multiple issues could arise from giving you his personal number - Brie was too excited to dwell on future problems when he had your attention now.
"Sure! Do you have a pen and paper?"
In the time it takes you to retrieve said items the other delivery person returns. He looks at Brie, a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he inspects his face.
"Hey... Aren't you-"
"Their boyfriend attacked a guy once."
The delivery driver looks taken aback. "What did you say?"
"I had a friend who worked at this one other pizza place. He had a black eye the last time we met. Said the person with the exact address had a scary looking boyfriend who thought he was flirting with them. He moved last we and I think I know why."
Brie's smile widen as the wobble in the other man's voice. "Hey, man... It's not cool to joke like that. If you're trying to scare me off you'll have to try harder than that."
"If that's what you want-"
Brie drops the conversation there. No point in wasting any more of his precious time - not with you standing there, pen and a small notepad in hand.
"Thank you~" Brie scribbles down his number, tearing off a page of paper beneath the one he wrote on as he hands the notepad back to you - pen still in his possession. With other matters to attend to, asking for it back was the last thing on your mind as you then turn to properly greet the other driver. Brie turns on his heels and makes his way down your driveway, checking over his shoulder as he drops the pen off the sidewalk - watching it roll by the rear bumper of the car.
"Whoops- Looks l dropped my pen."
Brie crotches down to grab the pen, eyes scanning the dented license plate as his fingers graze the pen. He picks it up, jotting down the license plate on the scrap of paper as he stands and walks off in the direction of his car.
One light broken is bad enough. He wonders how that other driver's boss would feel with all four smashed.
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mrs-weasley-reid · 17 hours
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secret's out | a. hotchner
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Aaron Hotchner x bau!liaisonreader
Summary: Aaron takes an urgent trip to your office.
Warning: pls MDNI! 18+, oral sex (f receiving)
A/N: the way i was fixated on this idea for the entire year last year (and crawling back to it)...
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
A squeal passed your lips as your soul nearly jumped out of your body. Your boss, Aaron Hotchner, barged into your office with such urgency you thought someone had died, forcing a hiccup to bounce in your throat.
Your eyebrows drew together with your mouth slightly agape, "What's happened?" You couldn't help but hear your heartbeat loudly thumping against your chest.
Did a horrible case personally appear their way to his desk? Did someone get shot? Was there an emergency at home? Your mind quickly overheated as you attempted to figure out his sudden advent in your office.
"I need you to come on my face."
"What?!" Your face was both horror and bewilderment, a shade of red painting your cheeks.
You peeked outside your window, leaning against your desk. Thank goodness you had your own office. Had you not been a liaison, the entire bullpen would have its eyes on you.
"Are you out of your mind?!" Your voice was of panic, but you wouldn't deny the hint of excitement that echoed beneath your words.
Of course, Aaron had already thought of that. He had already calculated everything before he stepped out of his office and marched into yours.
Aaron didn't say a word.
Not even a moment to straighten the knot on his brows. He just shut the door, walked around your desk, kneeled in front of you, and started kissing your calves as if they were made of pure gold.
Heat rushed up your neck and to your face. Your breathing hitched at the touch of his trailing lips on your skin. "H-Hotch? Aaron, what—" You may have been shocked and confused, but you didn't stop his movements either.
You didn't want him to.
He slowly swiveled your seat to face your door, slipping under your desk as he continued to adore your thighs. How he managed to fit himself under there was beyond your comprehension.
"Continue working," Aaron directed between hot kisses on your inner thighs, pulling you out of your trance. He rubbed his textured palm on your skin, sparking friction in every bit of you.
His touch hits you like a freezing wind in the middle of January. Familiar and yet new. A simple graze and yet so electrifying.
Your eyes widened.
Did he just tell you to continue working while he was under your desk teasing you?
"Are you kidding—"
The door swung open.
Your head shot up to find one of the agents from the bullpen.
He stood by the door in silence.
You shoved Aaron's face away from your now needy cunt.
For fuck's sake.
At any given time, you would've waited for the agent to speak, but you weren't exactly in the right situation to have your door wide open for everyone outside to see or hear you.
So you spoke first, "Do you—" You swallowed—hard, casually organizing case files as Aaron bunched up your skirt. You couldn't bear to look at the agent in the eye. "Do you need something?"
"I wanted to ask if, uhm, you were," He placed a hand behind his neck, laughing awkwardly, and his face began to turn red.
You were too occupied to notice.
Aaron just started circling your clit with just the right pressure while he covered your inner thighs with stinging marks, fluttering the pit of your stomach—and the center of your cunt.
You bit the inner of your cheek, keeping any moans from slipping out. Is it really torture to feel so good while under someone's—besides the one pleasuring you—gaze? It seemed like one, but felt otherwise.
If Aaron wasn't exposing yourself under your desk, you would've realized that the agent in front of you was the same agent that has been eyeing you for a while.
JJ made sure you knew.
Emily, never let you forget.
And Penelope wanted you to give him a chance.
After a few moments—just enough time for you to release a silent gasp—the agent looked up.
His eyes were filled with courage as if he were about to fight a dragon and you were a damsel in distress.
You're anything but distressed right now, though.
He held his breath, holding his fists tight, "I wanted to ask if you'd like to go out with me for dinner? Or lunch? Or breakfast? Or just coffee? Or anything, really."
Without warning, Aaron lapped on your cunt.
It was different than usual. He pulled a little of the skin above your clit and exposed you more than you already were, directly flicking his tongue on the mass of nerves that sat on your clit.
The pleasure was straightforward and intense. Your toes curled in your heels. You gripped the file in front of you and gritted your teeth as you deeply sighed.
You weren't a profiler, but right then, you suddenly realized why the stoic SSA Aaron Hotchner was devouring you under your desk in the middle of the day.
"I'm sorry," You said gently through a soft sigh. A cover for the moan you badly wanted to breathe out. You looked at the agent with an apologetic smile, "I haven't told anyone, but I'm seeing someone." You lightly smacked the top of Aaron's head as you felt him smirk against your heat.
The agent grew redder, nodding vigorously. "It's okay. No worries. Sorry if I bothered you. Uhm... See you around." He stammered, backing away and out of your office.
When you were sure no one would barge into your office—again—you glanced down at Aaron. You carded your fingers through his dark hair, "That was mean, Aaron," You softly pointed out despite the jolt of your hips onto his face.
Aaron merely shrugged and sent you up to your peak. He was clearly unphased by the effects of his stubbornness. In fact, he made it evident that it was on purpose.
A small part of you wanted to lecture him, even briefly. To assert the little dominance you had over him at the moment. But boy, was he so good at distracting you.
You threw your head back, letting go of the file in your hand as you finally indulged in the pleasure. Your body was on fire, controlled moans desperately drooling off your lips. Whatever trick he was using, you definitely want him to keep at it.
And just as your core felt tight, entering a euphoric daze, Penelope knocked and entered your office with an innocent smile.
You willed your body not to shiver in frustration. You willed your mind not to think about Aaron kneeling under your desk and feasting on you and how your favorite tech analyst just unknowingly edged you.
"Hiyya!" She greeted, "Have you seen Hotch? I need him to sign this." She cheerily waved a manila folder. "I saw him pass by while absorbing some juicy gossip in the bullpen. Thought I'd find him here, but I guess not..." Penelope trailed off as her eyes roamed around your office.
When she finally accepted the seeming fact that Aaron was nowhere to be found, she turned to you with a wide grin. "Anyways, I'll find him one way or another. The goss was too good! Let me tell you about it!" She gushed, reaching for the seat in front of you.
Penelope was about two feet away from the seat when you shouted, "No!"
Shock emerged on her face. You gulped the pornographic sound in the center of your tongue down to the depths of your throat, reaching a handout in a bad attempt to look casual.
"I mean, n-no, I haven't seen him. But I can sign it for you." You smiled slyly, collecting yourself back together again. "My signatures are as good as Hotch's. He doesn't want the team to know because everyone will go straight to me." You felt Aaron's eye roll under the desk, nibbling on your skin.
Penelope grinned, "You don't say..." She excitedly clapped and handed you the folder. "Going back to the delicious goss. Apparently, someone caught an agent getting a visit to town in her office, if you get what I mean." A flicker sparked in her eyes. The thought made her grin wider and wiggle her brows.
Of course, you knew what she meant. You were getting one yourself. But you couldn't possibly say that to Penelope.
So, you purposely raised your eyebrows, "Really? The guy must've been hungry." You giggled, feeling Aaron squeeze your thighs.
"Right?!" She mischievously laughed. "I can't imagine someone keeping their mouth closed when someone is giving them the cunnilingus of their life in their office—" Her voice faded out of your earshot.
The bliss was too much that your hand flew back to Aaron's hair and pushed him closer to your wet cunt, forgetting that there was literally a person in front of you.
Penelope stopped in her tracks, brows furrowing as she noticed the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, "Are you okay?" The genuinity of her tone snapped you back to reality, and guilt began to knock some sense into you.
You laughed weakly, unable to control the contortion of your face. "Just cra-ahh—" You covered your mouth tightly, eyes blown wide as you stared at Penelope. "Just cramps. My... I think my period is coming." You reasoned, hoping she would buy it.
Good news and bad news.
Good news, Penelope was not a profiler. You can lie your way out of this as best as you can, and there's a huge possibility that she will buy it.
Bad news, Penelope has the most talkative mouth you have ever seen in your entire life. She would immediately pass the information that your unit chief was eating you out like a high-end buffet at noon on a sunny Tuesday, and that was how everyone would find out you were dating him.
Talk about a good bureau workplace headline.
"Oh, no," Penelope frowned. "They do go bad for you, huh? I've known of someone who couldn't even walk because the pain was too much." She paused, thinking. "Why don't I grab you some of my happy squishes from my cave? Maybe that'll help? And also cookies and coffee?"
You nodded vigorously, unable to form a word in fear that it would be a horrifying moan.
Penelope nodded as well, grabbing the folder. She told you she would be back in a flash with the best things in the world.
Luckily, she had the decency to close your door, and as soon as it shut, you let a strangled silent moan escape you as you rode your bliss.
You collapsed on your seat—breathless—like a worn-out soldier.
Aaron emerged from under your desk, licking his fingers as if he'd just had the best meal in his entire lifetime. A smirk curled one end of his lips. His chest was burning with pride.
"You're evil," You muttered breathlessly, still shivering from the ecstatic high.
A bright laugh echoed in your office and you wished it could play on a loop.
Aaron gently cleaned the mess he made, "Are you telling me you didn't like it?" He raised a brow at you.
You rolled your eyes.
"No," You admitted, playfully swatting his hands away. "Which is exactly why you're evil. You're very tempting. The apple to my Eve."
"Checks out," Aaron nodded proudly, to which you responded with a laugh mixed with disbelief.
He leaned down to leave a wet kiss on your lips, tattooing his whipped smile on your face.
His loving eyes made your chest erratic as if it was the first time he'd ever kissed you. As if he hadn't just fucked you with his mouth.
Aaron squinted, "And my signature definitely trumps yours."
"But I don't need yours to make a decision." You bounced your brows, looking at him like he was a fool.
You loved it when Aaron rolled his eyes. It was rare and solely for you to indulge in.
"I'll see you later," He rasped in such cunt-throbbing low voice.
What a tease.
You chased his lips to leave a small peck from your own, "See you later, troublemaker." You winked, scooting closer to your desk like it wasn't steaming with your sex under it.
Aaron chuckled, "I like that," He raised his brows with humor, nodding approvingly, "I'll be your troublemaker."
"'Course you are. Always been—well... hmm," You hummed, "You're tied with Jack. He and his magic tricks that he 'magically' learn whenever you two visit." You point an accusatory finger at him.
"Neither confirm nor deny," He laughed, fixing his tie before giving you one last look of adoration.
Aaron left your office high on your cum, lingering on his tongue. A one-day duration good mood. If only the team knew the trick of removing the knot on his eyebrows was as simple—and dirty—as a trip to your office.
Unbeknownst to him, a certain tech analyst was on her way back to your office with a handful of childish toys and a box of cookies and witnessed him emerge out of your door like a buzzed addict.
"Oh my god—" Penelope mouthed with wide eyes.
Secret's out.
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starjxsung · 2 days
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okayyy i guess i will make the first request !!! :3 what do you think jealous sex with skz would be like ? the type of sex where they're so jealous and frustrated by something (or someone), they need to fuck their frustration into you
giggles and runs away
-🦢
Chan: quiet at first about why he’s frustrated or jealous tbh. sorta just makes it obvious that he’s horny (I lowk feel like he would get horny as a result of being frustrated or mad??), fucks his anger out on you and it’s v sloppy, not rushed per se but closer to a quickie even though he can still go a few rounds. Lots of heavy grunting and he’s not trying to be quiet at all. And only after he’s finished and you’re in bed beside him catching your breath, he’ll indulge you in the details of what’s got him so bothered. Become the sort of thing where you’re horny if he comes home in a visibly frustrated mood because you know what it implies ! Very talkative during aftercare though. Like your own personal little Channie gossip sesh
Minho: will rant to you between kisses while he’s ripping your clothes off. Hes definitely indulging you in all the details the second he’s alone with you- you’re the type to be on the same page about everything together, and naturally, you hate the people he hates and vice versa. So when he’s frustrated, he goes to you first about it. Sometimes it can be a very emotional sort of thing, could mean he’s shedding a few tears out of frustration and you’re there to console him about it. But when it’s just straight anger or annoyance, he’s going to rant to you until he physically cannot talk in between kisses anymore. He’ll probably even just start to fuck you while he’s still ranting until his frustration turns into the type of pleasure that replaces his words with nothing but heavy breathing and moaning. Not even sure what he was so annoyed about by the time he’s done w you !
Changbin: doesn’t want to make a big deal about it ! You have to sorta coax it out of him. And honestly, he’s simultaneously best coaxed and relaxed after a good fuck. He’s not one to be too rough or anything just because he’s upset, but he’s just grateful you’re the best stress reliever. Lots of kissing, desperate grabbing at each other and sometimes the sex can even feel lighthearted when he’s aware that you’re doing your best to comfort him. Sort of the realization that no source of frustration or jealousy is worth letting it come between the two of you. So he’ll just give himself to focusing on your pleasure and then talk it out after. He might even deny it after and joke around that he was never frustrated or jealous to begin with, but he’s still thanking you for it and eventually you’ll be on the same page about what’s bothering him.
Hyunjin: sweaty. When he gets consumed by frustration or especially jealousy, he’s particularly sloppy with his thrusts, very sweaty, probably sucks a few hickies wherever he can reach and doesn’t care to make them discreet. He’s all heavy breathing, loud groaning, just kinda wants to fill you up with his load as a stress reliever tbh. Feel like he wouldn’t say anything about it but you’d know he was jealous in the way he fucks. Also evident in the way he speaks very little- of course he’ll pay careful attention to cues to make sure he’s not hurting you or anything, but the talking will be very minimal. He just relies on his body language to indicate what he wants. If he is jealous about something, my guess is you won’t know until he’s had a few days to wait on it before saying anything.
Jisung: needier than usual ! Feel like especially if he got jealous over something, he’d be itching to get you home and fuck you like he never has before, just to prove a point. Maybe uses it as an opportunity to try something you’ve both been wanting to try. The guy at the bar was staring at you a little too long? He’s going to drag you to the car and fuck you right there, knowing you’ve been vocalizing your desire to try it, but he sees it as an opportunity to get your head spinning before you can get him even more frustrated. You can bet he’s going to walk back into the bar with his shirt half-on and a cocky fucking smirk. Has you wrapped around his finger tbh, so jealousy isn’t a huge deal ! Frustration is just opportunism for him.
Felix: particularly keen on pleasuring you. He’s vulnerable with his emotions at first, so you’ll know that he’s got something on his mind, but then he just wants to make you feel good in turn. Has you on the edge of his bed very fast, all desperate to eat you out and channel all his frustration into his tongue and his fingers. Your mood is often aligned with his- which means if he’s stressed, you’re stressed, and vice versa. Solution is to make you cum as many times as you can- and then pretty soon your satisfaction is his, too. Definitely won’t lose an opportunity to fuck you too, probably transitions to fucking you when you’re just nearly tired enough so he can make sure you’re both exhausted and satisfied by the end of it. Just treats you good all around !
Seungmin: actually doesn’t get frustrated or jealous very often. And when he does, he’s largely nonchalant about it. Will offhandedly mention something that pissed him off, and you know it’s a little more than mild annoyance when he gets quiet. It’s you who wants to pleasure him as a result, and it quickly becomes some unspoken thing between you both to just fuck out the frustration. He probably doesn’t even realize how annoyed he is until he’s thrusting into you and his emotions are elevated tenfold. He’s still gentle with you, and very set on making you feel good. But you both have the same idea to pleasure each other as much as possible, so it quickly gets rougher and sloppier. The aftercare is A1 though and you probably take like a 10 hour nap after it tbh
Jeongin: a little embarrassed that he’s even frustrated or jealous in the first place! Feels like he’s not supposed to be for some reason. He has this opinion that as a boyfriend, he shouldn’t drag his emotions into your relationship and potentially let it get between you two. But also king of healthy communication, so he’ll reluctantly bring it up to you and then apologize and swear he’s not frustrated or jealous anymore (even if he is…) and the sex that follows is sweet, but desperate. He’s just desperate to be a little closer to you, like a physical reminder that you’re his and you’re not going anywhere regardless of his moods or whatever made him jealous. He loves taking control and being able to look at you, kiss you, touch you wherever he can and just have a tangible reminder that you’re satisfied with him.
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babybluewoso · 3 days
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The Blaugrana Beat: A Tale of Love Beyond the Pitch || alexia putellas x reader
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once upon a time, in the sun-kissed streets of Barcelona, two hearts danced to the rhythm of childhood innocence. Alexia Putellas and Emerson Jones were inseparable, their laughter echoing through the narrow alleys as they chased after soccer balls and dreams. They were more than friends; they were soulmates, their bond forged in the fiery passion of youth.
Emerson, with her unruly curls and mischievous eyes, was a blend of English pragmatism and Spanish fire. She had spent fifteen vibrant years in Spain, soaking up the Mediterranean sun and falling in love with the game that would shape her destiny. Alexia, on the other hand, was all grace and determination. Her Spanish roots ran deep, and her love for soccer was etched into her very bones.
Emerson is the girl who never liked to wear frocks, who couldn't stay still for a minute,  and who always loves to cause trouble. alexia, on the other hand, is the angel everyone adores, sure she did play soccer but she loved to dress up as a princess only for her Emerson. From a very young age Alexia wanted to be with Emerson she never knew why, but whenever another girl touched her Emerson she would explode. their parents, especially Emerson's brothers tease them because growing up  Alexia is the tallest one out of both of them.
after years of pinning over each other, they admitted their feelings to each other. Their love story began innocently—a stolen kiss behind the bleachers, secret notes passed during class, and late-night conversations under the star-studded sky. They were childhood sweethearts, their hearts entwined like the vines that adorned the ancient walls of the Camp Nou stadium. 
however life has a way of twisting fate, and when Emerson’s family announced their return to England, the world tilted on its axis. She tried to explain it to Alexia, her voice trembling with the weight of impending separation. But Alexia misunderstood, her heart shattered into a thousand shards. She believed Emerson was leaving because she had grown tired of their love, that their shared dreams were mere illusions.
In a moment of pain and desperation, Alexia lashed out. 
"you know what I never liked you anyway, you foolishly thought that I loved you huh? guess what I would never, ever love someone like you" she spat, her eyes betraying the lie.
Emerson’s heart fractured, "No no you're lying. ale, you know I will always find my way back to you. always, I can't do anything about this situation. I love you. I- I- "
"stop it. go back to your stupid country. I bet you already have some chick lined up for you huh??"
"ale this isn't you"
"stop calling me that. and get the hell out of here" and she left Barcelona with tears staining her jersey.
Years passed, Emerson’s life took unexpected turns and so did her body. once the smallest kid in the town is now the tallest giant in the town. but her personality stays the same way, with her side smirk and the messy blonde hair, England women lined up for her attention. But none of them matter to her when her heart always belongs to a certain Catalan girl.  
Emerson honed her skills, rising through the ranks until she stood at the precipice of her dreams—a chance to sign with FC Barcelona. But fate had a wicked sense of humor. Alexia, now a seasoned player herself, was the team captain. the news of Emerson Jones joining Barca flew like wildfire. before she knew it, she was packing her bags to go back to Spain. where she lost her first love. She is ready to prove that she came here to stay. Even Alexia’s words rang in her head all the time; she had faith in their love.
Lucy Bronze, her England teammate has taken it up on herself to introduce Emerson to the team. Emerson is so happy to be back in Barcelona, but that is not the only reason, she wanted to see Alexia apparently the girl had some captain duties to do. after changing into her new training kit, she made her way onto the field.
lunchtime rolled over still no sign of the captain, so Emerson let out a quiet sign and ate her lunch. but little did she know the captain was looking from the physio room this entire time. Alexia couldn't bring herself to meet Emerson again. She knew it was childish, she was the team captain one way or another they must meet again.
After lunch, the team had their evening gym session. which Alexia had to participate in. Again, Lucy took it upon herself to introduce the two ex-lovers.
"Hello," Emerson’s Yorkshire accent dripped down due to being so many years in England.
alexia has to admit that it was very hot but she dismissed that thought quickly. She takes a quick look at Emerson’s body, she is not the same girl who she used to be. alexia is one of the tallest players in the squad after Irene, Ingrid, and Frido but never in her wildest dreams, she would have thought that Emerson would be this tall. Emerson, standing at an imposing 6 feet tall, defies convention with her androgynous allure. Her frame, though linear, conceals a quiet strength—a testament to her disciplined lifestyle. Her jawline, sharp as a blade, accentuates her femininity, while her ocean-blue eyes hold depths of mystery. no wonder why England women were so caught up with her charm.
"hola, espero que no caus cap problema aquí"(hello hope you don't cause any trouble here) She greeted Emerson’s return with icy indifference, her walls fortified against the girl who had once held her heart. 
Emerson couldn't understand a word she said but she knew Alexia wasn't very pleased with her presence. swallowing hard Emerson tried to start a conversation with her;
"How are you doing ale?? it's been some time"
"Mira aquí no em pots dir ale perquè no és el meu nom, només els meus amics I la família em poden dir així, I l'última vegada que vaig composer que no eres ni familiar ni amic meu." (look you can't call me ale here because that's not my name only my friends and family can call me that, and last time I checked you were neither family nor friend of mine)
lucy who had seen the whole interaction stepped in, "Hey hey I don't know what happened with you two but save it for late si?" with that Alexia left without another word.
"she hates me" Emerson whispered.
"no shit Sherlock. what did you do to her, and how did you two know each other, did you sleep with each other? omg if so this is not going to end well. You have to tell me everything "
-- -
A few days passed Emerson befriended almost everyone on the team. alexia hated that too, Emerson has friends now. As a captain of the team, she had some power over a few things. 
alexia refused to talk in English she even abandoned the other players to talk in English too. poor Keira never saw it coming. She explained the drills in Spanish, and Emerson felt hopeless. it was quite obvious within the team that alexia hated her but only Lucy and Kiera knew the real reason.
after a grueling training session, Alexia called the team over to have a free kick challenge.
"Farem un repte de tir lliure si ho perdeu, hauteur de córrer 10 volts" (we're gonna do a free kick challenge if you miss, you'll have to run 10 laps) Alexia said with a straight face, again Emerson couldn't understand a word she said but after watching her other teammates she knew it was a free kick challenge.
when it came to Emerson's chance she felt extra nervous, she had taken plenty of free kicks in her life but with the way Alexia was watching, she felt really uncomfortable.
she took a breath and kicked the ball, safe to say it never found its way back on the net.
"de nuevo"(again) alexia seethed.
Emersson’s every touch of the ball felt like a plea for forgiveness, but Alexia remained unyielding. She masked her pain with sharp words and frosty glances, pushing Emerson away. Yet, beneath the surface, the embers of their love still smoldered. The tension between them was palpable, a magnetic pull that defied reason.
---------
days after the free kick incident, it was time to face El Classico, but most importantly Emerson's debut for Barca.
alexia couldn't play due to her knee injury but she was at the stands cheering her teammates.
in the 56th minute, Emerson was subbed in, and from that very moment, the match began to escalate. chances were created, and space was used within two minutes Emerson scored her debut goal for her club. after that goal, Real Madrid became reckless with their tackless, and all of them were aimed at Emerson.
after another thirty-five minutes, the game was over securing a Barcelona win which was nothing new for the team.
however, nobody saw how bad was Emerson, her whole body was aching, and she was exhausted physically and mentally. but she masked it with a small smile on her face. alexia saw right pass through it. she wanted to help but her mind wouldn't let her. 
after thanking the fans Emerson made her way to the physio room to clean up her bruises. to her absolute luck, nobody was there to help. she couldn't care more so she made her way to one of their tables and took off her shirt.
meanwhile, Alexia was caught up in her own battle in her head. She wanted to help Emerson so badly but at the same time, she wanted to hurt her the same way she did.
that's when Lucy came from behind. "go after her. She needs you more than anything"
"I needed her too, but where was she then?"
"don't punish her without knowing the full story"
"easy for you to say, Lucia"
-----
The silence of the locker room was punctuated by the sound of footsteps. Emerson, still reeling from the match’s physical toll, looked up to see Alexia approaching. Her face was a mask of professionalism, but her eyes betrayed a storm of emotions.
“Emerson,” Alexia began, her voice steady and in English, a language she hadn’t used with her for over a decade. “I need to check those bruises you've got.”
Emerson’s eyes widened in surprise. “Alexia?" 
"You’re speaking to me in English?”
She didn’t waver. “Yes, I am. Can we put our past aside for a moment? Your well-being is my priority right now.”
she nodded, still taken aback by the change. “Of course.”
As she tended to her injuries, the tension between them was palpable. Emerson broke the silence, “Why now, after all these years?”
Alexia paused, her hands momentarily still. “Because hate is a heavy burden to carry, and I see no point in holding onto it any longer.”
Emerson searched her face for a hint of the love they once shared. “Do you… do you ever think about us?”
She sighed a trace of sadness in her eyes. “Every day. But we can’t change the past, Emerson. We can only learn from it.”
she reached out, gently touching her hand. “I’m sorry, Alexia. For everything.”
She met her gaze, her own hand covering hers. “I know. And I forgive you. But let’s focus on healing these bruises for now.”
They shared a look, a silent understanding passing between them. Perhaps this was the first step towards mending what had been broken, not just in flesh, but in heart and spirit.
The world blurred, and for a moment, they were just two girls who had once shared secrets and dreams.
Alexia’s eyes held a storm of emotions—regret, longing, and a hint of fear. “Why did you leave?” she whispered, her voice raw. “Why did you break my heart?”
Emersson’s gaze bore into hers. “I had no choice,” she confessed. “My family needed me. But I never stopped loving you.”
The truth hung heavy in the air, and Alexia’s walls crumbled. She cradled Emersson’s face, her thumb brushing away tears. “I was wrong,” she murmured. “I never stopped loving you either.”
And in that moment, the rivalry dissolved, replaced by a love that had weathered storms and crossed continents. Emerson signed with Barça, not as an enemy but as a lover—a woman who had fought for her dreams and her heart.
As they celebrated victory on the hallowed grounds of Camp Nou, Alexia whispered against Emersson’s lips, “Welcome home.”
And Emerson knew that sometimes, love was a game worth playing, even when the odds were stacked against you. They had gone from childhood sweethearts to enemies, but now, they stood on the brink of a new chapter—a love rekindled, stronger than ever before.
p.s. - this is my first story so bear with me. :)
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 2 days
Text
Reader receives Yelenas nudes accidentally
Authors note: this probably doesn't actually count as an accident but I felt like it kinda still is I think? Anyway, hope you enjoy
Authors note 2.0: sorry it took so long to release this 💖
Word count: 796
Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist
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   As the blonde tosses back another shot, her mind not only swirls with the effects of the alcohol but with an idea as well. It’s a bad idea, and will likely end with her having regrets and being embarrassed. But in her current state those things don’t really bother her like they should. So she decides to go ahead with the bad idea.
   With a smirk she pulls out her phone and clumsily opens the messaging app. She clicks on her earlier conversation with you and then goes to add a picture. She scrolls through her camera roll until she finds her hidden album that contains the few naughty pics she's taken.
  She spends probably far too long staring at her options before choosing one and attaching it to your messages. She debates on if she wants to send anything flirtatious with it, but in her muddled state she realizes she would probably do a poor job of getting any point across to you. So instead of adding anything she just presses send. 
   After realizing that yes, she did actually go through with it she sets her phone down and takes another shot, “O Bozhe(oh god)”
   You're in your room across the compound, lazily lounging on your bed as you scroll through netflix looking for something to watch when your phone alerts you to a new message. Being as late as it is, you figured that not many of the other heroes would be up and wanting to chat, so the fact that one of them was texting you was a bit exciting because it meant you didn’t have to be bored alone.
   You quickly grab your phone to see a text from Yelena and you smile. The two of you had become fast friends when Nat brought her onto the team, and have only gotten closer since. In fact, if you had to admit it you were harboring a not so small crush on the woman. But there was no way in hell you’d ever admit that, especially to her.
  At least that's what you thought. But when you open her message to see a picture of not only her smug smirk but her bare breasts as well, you contemplate running off to her right then and there and admitting everything. You however manage to reign in that thought to fully think about the situation first and decide to type out a reply
    Uh, Lena?
   It takes her a minute to actually respond, Yes?
  It's far too brief of a reply for you though and it also steps around the elephant in the messages entirely, You sent me a nude….
   Yes.
   You bite back the urge to ask if that was the only word she knew and instead decide to make this conversation an in person one. You shove your phone into your pocket and head off to find her. The first place you go is of course her room, and you knock on the door. There's a rustling on the other side before you hear footsteps, and that's when you realize something else must be going on here because you've never heard the spies' footsteps.
   The door opens with quite a bit of enthusiasm, causing your brows to shoot up and your confusion only doubles when Yelena's face beams at you from the doorway. 
   “Y/n, hiii” she greets before giggling a bit. The smell of alcohol on her breath is apparent and you try not to laugh but it's a bit hard when she shushes herself. That's when you manage to get a glimpse behind her and into the room however, and the sight nearly empty vodka bottle on her bed and the few empty beer bottles on her bedside table has all the dots connecting for you
   “Lena, you drink all that by yourself?” 
   She turns her entire body to look at where your gesturing and sways a bit, “Yup”
   You can’t help but chuckle at the way she pops the p sound, “Well, that explains the picture then”
   You had said it under your breath but she had still heard you and turns back around, “Oh yes! You like?”
   “Lena I…” you're honestly at a loss for words. Because yes you did like it, but you can’t tell her that while she's so clearly drunk because she might hear your yes and see that as a way to attempt to do other activities. Activities she absolutely can’t consent to in her current state
  “You didn’t” her frown brings you back out of your thoughts and you want nothing more than to kiss it off her face
   Instead you gently cup her face, “How about, we get you tucked into bed and we talk about that wonderful pic in the morning”
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Taglist: @lollygagger-s
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