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#he watches over me and protects me but like metaphorically
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Shawn Spencer you will always be famous to me…..
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naeviskz · 3 months
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“ WHY’D YOU ONLY CALL ME WHEN YOU’RE HIGH ? ” ๑‧˚₊ ─── HHJ
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synopsis ; you only call hyunjin when it’s late at night and you’re under the influence. he hates that you’ll never be his real girlfriend but it’s better to still have you this way than not at all.
genre 숌 FWB!hyunjin x fem!reader | college AU
words - 2.8k+ tags/warnings 숌 (some) fluff, angst, pwp (barely any plot tbh lmao), smut, one-sided love :(, jealous feelings, small mention of depression, mentions of smoking (weed), 34+35, squirting, protected sex **most of this is told in hj’s perspective !
now playing 🎧 : why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys
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Hyunjin has always been the type that likes to play with fire, he's a natural risk taker and 99% of the time it ends up serving in his favor— until he got himself acquainted with you. Had he known what would be the outcome of this he would've never gone over to your dorm on that one particular night. Things were good in the beginning, really good actually, he's never met someone so spontaneous in the bedroom like you. It was like spinning the mystery wheel of fortune to see what he'll get next. You were never boring, would get super vocal, and made him finish at least three times. It's like you were a godsend to cure his loneliness and desperate cravings for intimacy.
But like most good things, they always come to an eventual, sad end. This entanglement you two are in is starting to become too much for him, it’s been affecting his self esteem and making his mental health rapidly decline. From the outside looking in, he seems perfectly fine, nothing out of the ordinary; but his depression worsens day by day. He feels rather pathetic for staying friends with benefits if it’s only hurting him rather than helping, but it’s impossible to say no to you. Hyunjin knew exactly what kind of arrangement this was from the start but still chose to get involved anyway. He really did think he could handle it, no feelings, no strings attached - seems so easy right?
Maybe for you, but for him the realizations now begun to hit all at once. None of this is what he actually wants, he most definitely wants you of course, but not just solely to get in your panties. He’s never really been the type who just sleeps around, if anything his standards are so ridiculously high it was hard for him to get laid in the first place. That all changed once he got to know you, sharing a class together and getting paired in the same group for a project was all coincidental. He was so nervous around you he couldn’t even ask for your social media, let alone your number. It wasn’t until someone else in the group finally asked everyone to exchange numbers so each person will know their designated tasks. Not even days later you asked him over to your dorm to come “work on the project”, which was a blatant cover up because neither of you got any schoolwork done that night.
He regrets everything that lead up to this point, feeling foolish for not listening to his friends. He was warned on numerous occasions about you by them, was told to tread very carefully with someone as mercurial as you, but he’s in too deep now… literally and metaphorically. He’s already lost count on how many rounds it’s been so far, going at it like bunnies for the past three and a half hours. Hyunjin’s surprised he even has the stamina left for all this, droplets of sweat secrete from his forehead in utter concentration. He’s got your leg propped up high above his shoulder, sliding his cock in at just the right angle. The headboard keeps hitting against the wall as his strokes get sloppier, watching hisself disappear in and out of you while slamming right into your g-spot.
“Fuck Hyunjin… gonna cum!” You cry out from a wave of pleasure, body twitching as more whimpers escape your trembling lips.
Just when he thought he couldn’t get enough of you, your walls tighten around him, making his mind even hazier from the way you squeeze his cock. It’s such a perfect fit inside, literally feels like your pussy was made for him. You were made for him, and one day he’ll show you just how much you truly mean to him. But for now he needs to focus on making the both of you finish, his pace becoming more relentless. Your high state of mind made your body hypersensitive, limbs heavily shaking as water gushes from between your thighs and onto your legs. Exhaling a breathy moan, you couldn’t believe you just squirted all over Hyunjin’s thick cock.
“That’s so fucking hot..” he praised, filling the room with loud animalistic groans.
Eyes roll to the back of your head in ecstasy from your 82531365245th orgasm of tonight, you’re going to be so sore tomorrow. Hyunjin came shortly after you did, spilling every last drop of his seed into the condom. One day he hopes to get the chance to fuck you raw, see what it really feels like to be inside such a perfect pussy. If that moment ever did come, he’d be sure of it to make you officially his girl. His chest heaves from all that energy he’s just burned, looking at you underneath him with pure infatuation. Even when you’re a sticky, sweaty fucked out mess he still manages to find you to be the most heavenly angel that’s ever graced this earth.
Your bodies compressed together under the linen sheets of his full size bed, a much better upgrade than your sad twin XL one. Hyunjin runs his fingers down the apex of your thighs, gently kneading them while nibbling on the sweet spot of your neck. It’s been hours since you smoked but somehow you still feel so high— it could be because you literally just squirted though. You didn’t think your body was capable of doing that anymore, you’ve only squirted once before while using your vibrator but you never thought someone else could make you do that. If you believed in love and monogamy you’d be wifing him up ASAP.
Hyunjin wanted to stay like this for as long as he could, he never gets the opportunity to cuddle with you after sex, doesn’t get to cherish you in his arms and give you forehead kisses as you slowly fall asleep. You’re usually gone by the time he’s able to even try and do those things, but you haven’t moved a muscle yet. He’s wondering what you’re thinking in that pretty little head of yours, just wants to know if you even slightly feel the same way as he does. You shift under him, grabbing your phone on the nightstand adjacent to the bed, checking what time it is and any messages you missed.
“Care to stay a bit longer..?” Hyunjin timidly asks, hoping that by some miracle you’d give in and say yes.
“I can’t,” you rush to get up from his hold to go find your clothes scattered on the floor, “have to wake up early for lab tomorrow.”
He knows that it’s not his place to get genuinely upset over you leaving. He needs to accept that the only time you call him is when you’re high out of your mind and just want some dick. He’s not the only guy you’re seeing and it makes him furious that other men get to touch you like he does. The same way his hands roam all over your body and you just breathlessly whine how much you need him. Or when you’re riding his cock until his patience runs thin and he starts roughly thrusting himself back into you, tightly gripping the sides of your waist. It’s a shame you never let him take you out or even kiss you on the lips without acting weird about it. This dynamic you two have going on was supposed to be ideal, but Hyunjin just regrets it as it continues. He can’t keep living like this, it’s mental torture. Either you’re going to start seeing each other exclusively or he’ll have to kiss this arrangement goodbye for good.
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“I don’t know … I just feel.. used…” Hyunjin finally expresses how he’s been feeling this whole time about you to his friends. Melting into the couch as he becomes one with it, the fogged up atmosphere of the room makes his brain go fuzzy.
“Then why don’t you break off all contact? Or just tell her you don’t wanna keep seeing her anymore if all she wants is sex.” Jeongin openly suggests, passing the joint over to Han who’s next in the rotation.
Han eagerly grabs it, pressing the rolled paper between his lips, taking an extra long inhale, “Yeah just be honest and upfront with her about it. Some girls are like that, only using guys for dick and money.” He comments after blowing out a thick cloud of smoke.
“But I want to keep seeing her,” Hyunjin shakes his head, further explaining, “just not in that way…”
“Good luck with that Mr. loverboy,” Changbin teases him for being so naive. “Everyone knows ___ is a freak, Minho and Chan already hit last semester, the things I heard she can do with her mouth is crazyy-”
“Don’t ever fucking talk about her like that again, you sound gross and disrespectful.” Hyunjin snaps at him to quickly defend you, he had to stop himself before he actually punches Changbin in the face.
He doesn’t want to know how many others are in the picture, nor does he care about the other guys you’ve slept with. In his delusional mind, you two only see each other and he’d like to keep it that way.
“Bro you’re beating a dead horse even trying to pursue this, she’s going to laugh in your face if you confess your feelings. She doesn’t believe in love, she told me ‘cause I asked her out on a date once before.” Changbin proceeds to admit, only adding more fuel to the fire as he keeps talking.
Hyunjin was even more pissed off now, he’s definitely going to bash his friend’s head into a wall right now. He has a feeling Jeongin and Han would immediately try and hold him back though.
“The only thing he’ll be beating is his meat once she cuts him off for getting too attached.” Han chimes in again, finding slight amusement in this whole situation.
Hyunjin is tired of feeling like his personal feelings are invalid , as if there’s something inherently wrong with falling for someone he’s been sexually intimate with for months now. He really wishes you’d stop playing games with him but fact of the matter is you’ll never be his girlfriend and it’s irrational for him to think this way.
“I can fix her,” Hyunjin confidently refutes his friend’s claims, “just wait and see.”
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It’s 3 am on a Friday night, your heads reeling with countless thoughts and desperate to find an outlet to release all your frustrations. Calling Hyunjin to see what he’s up to, he answers almost immediately, trying to sound all nonchalant like he wasn’t waiting for you to call him for a late night hook up. He was quick to invite you over when you expressed how bored you were, getting there in less than 10 minutes and still managing to look super cute in your sweatpants and oversized hello kitty t-shirt. You reeked of marijuana as you walked in. Nothing new. Hyunjin doesn’t smoke but he notices the red tint in your eyes, how your movements are slowed and you’re acting all giggly with him.
God you’re so fucking cute it hurts.
He hugs you from behind as you make your way into his kitchen, the munchies are hitting you real hard and all you want is a nice PB&J sandwich. Unfortunately Hyunjin doesn’t have anymore jelly, only peanut butter.. you were mortified at the monstrosity of his pantry to begin with— there was barely anything in there.
“You seriously need to go grocery shopping soon, there’s nothing in here. I’m starvinggg.” You whine, about to have a mini meltdown if you don’t get any food in your system within the next 15 minutes.
“Why? It’s just me who lives here and I don’t really eat much, plus I mostly go to the dining halls anyway,” he says, “if you’re hungry I have some stuff up here.” Pointing to a different cabinet that was higher above, inside was filled with all your favorite kinds of snacks and candy , your eyes lit up at all the different varieties.
You seriously couldn’t thank him enough, turning around in his direction to look at his dreamy face. You had the strongest urge to kiss him right there in that moment but you refrained from doing so. Something piques your curiosity when you thought about kissing him on the lips, examining how perfectly plump they are and how badly you want them between your legs right now. Clenching around absolutely nothing, you’re neglecting all earlier thoughts of eating and now focus on the man behold you. Everything happened so fast, suddenly you were both heavily making out, his hands rest on your thighs as you sat on top of the kitchen counter. Fingers tangled up in his silky black locks, you get lost in the taste of him, sensing a mint flavored undertone with a hint of vanilla. Not even five minutes later you were on your knees deepthroating his cock as if you’re going to swallow him whole. He’d rut his hips slightly into you, fucking that pretty mouth of yours is his favorite. You know how to use it exceptionally well.
“Good girl..” he praises you to keep going, grabbing a fistful of your hair in the process, “just like that baby..”
Then he remembers what Changbin said from earlier about how you slept with Minho and Chan. It won’t leave his mind and he’s doing anything to stop these thoughts from impeding his orgasm, but he gets so fucking jealous he needs to do something else. That being to eat you out until you come undone so hard on his tongue it knocks the wind out of you. He wants to be the first, last, and only man that’ll ever make you feel this way, he’ll do whatever it takes to prove he’s worthy of your love and why he’s more than qualified to date you. No one is ever going to treat you better than he will, he’ll make sure to shower you with all his affection, be deeply devoted and provide only the best of the best for his perfect princess.
Hyunjin’s transferred you both onto the couch at one point , lying underneath you while you’re still sucking his cock after he’s already came on your face once before. You’re practically writhing and shaking from the way he’s devouring you, spreading your lips with his index and middle finger to lick slow, languid stripes on your clit. You still had a mouth full of his cock, your muffled moans vibrate around his girth making him twitch even more inside you. Unable to think or even concentrate on what you were doing, you couldn’t stop loudly whimpering, too busy focusing on grinding on his face, eventually giving up altogether. He didn’t seem to mind though, his only goal of tonight was getting you to cum an endless amount of times.
“Hyun- fuck! Oh my god..” you cry out in desperation, on the brink of having a mind blowing orgasm.
He takes that as a sign to go faster, dipping his tongue inside your dripping heat like it’s his last meal on earth. Your back arches in response, sounding like a broken record as you moan his name over and over. Something snaps within, literally bursting at the seams as you squirt again on Hyunjin’s face. A small tear rolls down the side of your cheek, not from any pain but the overwhelming sensation of it all left you physically numb. You can’t see it but Hyunjin was smiling so hard at the fact he was able to make you do this twice. He plants a kiss to your puffy pussy, gloating in his own little victory as he licks the remaining essence from the inside of your thighs. Sometimes you wonder why you smoke if you can just get the same effect after letting Hyunjin eat you out. Always feels like you’re floating, completely weightless in his hold.
You broke the ‘no kissing’ rule you again to continue sloppily making out with him some more, loving the way you taste on his tongue. He can’t get enough of you and neither can you get of enough of his amazing cunnilingus skills. The afterglow of your climax was like reaching the highest state of nirvana. Feeling at one and at peace with everything around you.
After being snuggled up while lying on Hyunjin’s chest, you get a bit sleepy but you don’t want to burden him by staying the night.
“I have to go now,” you abruptly say after a long moment of silence, “see you later.”
“Wait- stay” his palm presses against your shoulder before you can fully get up, “please don’t leave this time, please.”
He hates how that sounded so pitiful, but he’s lost all pride at this point. If he can’t have you as his girlfriend then he’ll just pretend you are. It’s better to keep it this way than to ever admit his feelings and be subject to possible rejection down the line.
You reluctantly sink back into the mattress, “O-okay..” feeling more vulnerable than ever been before.
Oddly enough it feels more intimate to cuddle and sleep next to him rather than having a full on fuck marathon. He held you in his embrace the whole night after that, feeling more accomplished than ever in getting you to spend the night. Hyunjin hopes that this wont be the last time this happens, he wishes this was the outcome of every night you sleep together. One day he will muster up the courage in finally confessing how he truly feels but for now— he’ll take whatever tiny crumb of affection from you he can get.
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- 完 ︎♡︎
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
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I need a part in the penny verse where the whole Eddie telling baby bump penny that her mom is going to be a MILF comes into play.
Like one we day the reader is picking up penny from school and maybe another kids dad flirts with her or like a new neighbor of theirs does and maybe Eddie’s reaction to that
Not even gonna front with you, I've been sitting on this for a min because I wrote it and then freaking forgot about it. I did take some creative liberties, but I think you'll like what I got for ya. Ps, ‘baby bump penny’ had my heart throwing up, I always forget that we get her in different phases of her existence and she was once in reader’s belly 🥹💘
to everyone else, sorry, I can't link shit but this is a follow up to a ton of other pennyverse entries so you can search that on my tumblr until the links work again. and i'm trying the keep reading cut again, let me know if it fucks up the post.
(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)
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Summary: Something's been bothering you these last couple of weeks and you won't tell Eddie what it is. Like that'll stop him, he's determined to figure it out.
warnings: a creepy (and freaking terrible) dad hits on reader, implied unwelcome advances, crude comments about reader and the female body (eddie sets this fucker straight), protective!eddie :)
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Eddie knew you. He knew every fiber of your being, every marker in your past, all the ways you liked to style your hair, how you decided on what makeup to put on that day—if you even wore any—,the different types of silence you’d sink into and what they meant, your body (god, he was intimately in tune with it), and every different smile you wore. Eddie knew you.
  He just didn’t know exactly what went on in that beautiful head of yours. Eddie was positive he had a sixth sense catered only to you, it’d let him know whenever there was something wrong, something bothering you. It prompted him to approach you, watch you even more than he already did. Putting himself metaphorically in your shoes usually helped him figure it out the rest of the way, but for this particular occurrence, he had nothing to go on.
  For the past couple of weeks, since Penny had started preschool, you’d moved your work schedule around to go in earlier so you’d be out in time to pick Penny up from school and snag the baby from Maude and Wayne, who watched him while you and Eddie were at work.
  Eddie noticed a change in you. It was minor at first, a little frazzled when he’d get home, but you hid it well. Now, you looked bothered. Always zoned out, with a frown on your face. You never left the house like that, always gave him and the kids kisses before you went on your merry way (well, as happy as you could be going to a desk job), so it had to be something that happened after you left home that bothered you.
  It wasn’t work, you’d rant to Eddie about it if you had a bad day but you liked to leave work problems at your desk when you left it, something about not being paid to worry or think about work after hours.
  It bugged the fuck out of him. He’d tried to approach the subject before, leaving you openings to tell him what was going on but you always shrugged it off and went on about your day as if you hadn’t been upset over something. You couldn’t hide it completely, though. Not from Eddie, he could still see those split seconds where your mind wandered off and the corners of your lips twitched down.
  Given how stubborn you were, Eddie decided he’d need to take a more hands on approach. Since he suspected something was happening after you left home in the mornings and before he got home from work, he’d have to be present for that timeframe. 
  He’d left work around lunchtime, Norm was understanding about it and didn't really care all that much since it was a relatively slow day for business.
  His son had been delighted when he picked him up from his Grandpa and (grandma) Maude’s, squirming and wiggling in her hold until Eddie got a hold of him. Baby Wayne had immediately placed his hands on Eddie’s jaw, urging his dad to bend his head so he could rest his forehead against his own, those big eyes of his fluttering shut the moment they connected and soft coos of dada mumbled in between them, unlike Penny had, Wayne caught onto the baby babble of mama and dada. Penny hadn’t because one of you was always helicoptering around her so Princess Penny hadn’t felt the need.
Eddie would never get over how much his baby seemed to love cuddling with his parents, everytime baby Wayne was affectionate, he turned into goo, melting in his chubby hands. They lingered in the trailer for a couple of minutes while Eddie and big Wayne discussed how things were going in the apartment, though it had been more than a year since they’d moved in. Naturally, Wayne had asked why he was stopping by so early to pick up the baby so your change in demeanor came up in conversation.
  “Mmm, I been noticin’ ‘er actin’ odd whenever she comes to pick up little man. Seems fine when she gets ‘ere. ‘S when she leaves, she seems a little…”
  “Hesitant?” Eddie supplied and Wayne nodded, mouth pressed in a firm line.
  It was then that Maude Maple spoke up, something the widow rarely did in the presence of anyone other than Wayne, and it was with great hesitance.
  “She—she mentioned something once, about the pick up at Penny’s preschool. She didn’t go into too much detail, I think she’s bothered by it.”
  “Looks like I’m on pick-up duty today.” 
  After leaving Wayne and Maude’s and asking the latter to give you a call at work to let you know he picked the baby up, Eddie spent the rest of the afternoon with baby Wayne. It involved a food fight—yes, Eddie flung some back at him, he had it coming, when Wayne had decided he was done being fed and done with food that wasn’t coming from your boob so he’d thrown the macaroni at his dad’s face—a shared shower to rid evidence of said food fight, jamming out (terribly) on toy musical instruments before Eddie gave him a bottle and some cuddles while he put Wayne down for his nap. . . And fell asleep with him. 
  You came home to a suspiciously quiet apartment, a little too clean, save for a couple of toys in the living room. You found your boys in Wayne’s nursery, both of them in the crib. 
  It was a heartwarming and comical sight, Eddie’s legs were dangling outside of the crib and the baby was curled up on his chest, though he stirred at the sound of the door opening, pushing himself up off his dad as he blinked lazily at you, mouth parting to reveal a couple of little white nubs in his gummy smile, teeth coming in.
  He cooed softly, once. When you didn’t immediately go pick him up, he let out a stream of coos, loud and demanding but still loving as he tried to entice you over. When you still stood there giggling, he got mad, seemingly joining you in your laughter with his fake and very forced sounding baby laugh which quickly morphed into fake cries as he pushed himself to his feet and stood on Eddie’s chest, clinging to the bars of his crib as though he were a locked up criminal.
  Eddie groaned, hands moving to grab your son and you finally made your way over, picking Wayne up—much to his utter delight—to relieve Eddie of his weight.
  “Ouch, dude. You can’t just stand on people like that, it’s rude.” He croaked out, as his son’s weight was lifted off of his chest.
  Eddie couldn’t even be annoyed, not when he could see Wayne scrambling eagerly in your arms, face rubbing into your neck, chest, cheek, anywhere the little guy could reach in his desperation and excitement to be as close as he could to his mama.
  After giving Wayne’s tummy some tickles, amplifying his excited wiggles with a few ‘so excited, so excited’s, you leaned over so the both of you could stare down at Eddie, amusement cloaking your pretty features.
  “I think it might be time to get you a big boy bed.”
  Eddie huffed out a laugh and then groaned once more as he tried to sit up as much as he could, which wasn’t a whole lot given the fact half of him was hanging out of the crib.
  “This is gonna be fun,” he mumbled, but eventually he was able to maneuver himself out of it without breaking it. He placed his hands on his lower back, arching until it gave away to a satisfying pop.
  “Oh, yeah. That’s good.”
  “Daddy’s so silly, huh?” You asked your son, bouncing him in your arms as you placed a kiss on his curly head before directing your next question to Eddie, “Is everything okay, baby?”
  “Just peachy, honey.” He was definitely gonna have to ask you to rub his back tonight. “Wanted to have some one-on-one time with him, even if he regularly abandons me the moment you’re in sight.” 
  Eddie reached a finger out to tickle Wayne’s stomach, smirking when he laughed and tried to hide further in your hold.
  You smiled at their interaction, though the joy quickly flitted from your expression, “Do you want to watch him? While I go pick up Penny?”
  Another obvious tell something was wrong: you’d chosen to come home, put an intentional stop between getting off of work and picking up Penny. It was almost as though you needed time to prepare yourself, which was a giant freaking red flag to Eddie considering you used to drive straight over to her school and wait for her. 
  “Why don’t you stay with him? I can go pick her up.”
  The light returned to your eyes.
  “Really? I mean—I don’t mind, I don’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.” 
  “He’s clearly over me,” The sentence was whispered at his son with fake aggression, which left Wayne a giggling mess once more, Eddie chuckled and gave his son’s chin an affectionate squeeze and wiggle, “I’ll pick up Princess Penelope, she loves the disapproving looks people give me.”
“Shut up!” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss before he snatched his keys off the counter.
“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”
“Say bye-bye to daddy!” You encouraged your baby, bouncing him a little against your hip. “Buh-buh.” He waved his chunky little hand, smiling wide for his dad. 
When Eddie collapsed into the door, hand clenched over his heart, you added, “Blow daddy a kiss!” Baby Wayne lifted his palm to his mouth briefly before extending his arm out in Eddie’s direction, “Mah!” Eddie pretended to catch it, smacked the invisible kiss over his mouth and blew one right back at his baby before he forced himself out the door.
   His kid was so cute, it was a federal offense. The drive to Penny’s preschool was short, thanks to living close by. Eddie hopped out of the van–he and a couple of the guys from the shop installed a backseat prior to Penny’s birth–and made his way to the waiting area. Eddie had never gone to a preschool as a kid so he couldn’t exactly judge the pick up and drop off routine, but Penny’s preschool rarely allowed anyone in. They simply walked  up to one of the entrance doors, rang a special doorbell attached to the building, and one of the teachers or aides or whatever would verify the adult picking them up if they didn’t recognize them and then bring the kid out.
  Which meant Eddie had to stand around with other adults. There’d been a couple of them already waiting when he’d arrived, so he’d made himself comfortable on a nearby column as he waited, mind once more preoccupied with reasons as to why you didn’t seem to enjoy picking Penny up anymore. You liked Penny’s teacher, could it be one of the aides giving you a hard time? No. That’s something you would have told him.
Eddie was so distracted, he hadn’t noticed another body settle against the wall across from him.
“You a new dad? Haven’t seen you around before.”
  “What?” Eddie blinked, roused from his thoughts. The guy across from him looked like he was in his mid thirties, dressed in a skeezy suit that looked like it belonged on a car lot rather than an office, and had really big, overly white teeth he couldn’t seem to put away.
“Not a new dad, a new dad to this school. Although, you do look a little young.” The stranger clarified with a shrug.
There was something about him that Eddie immediately disliked. He could tell this was not only their first interaction, it would also be their last.
“No, I usually do the drop off.” Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, eyes flashing back to the entrance door just in time to make eye contact with one of the aides, he saw the recognition in her eyes before she closed the door again and felt less annoyed with the situation knowing she’d be retrieving Penny. 
  He hadn’t really left room for conversation, but the guy still continued.
  “Gotcha, gotcha.” His head bobbed around, Eddie thought if he listened carefully enough, he could hear his brain rattling in there, “I used to be on drop off duty myself, but I hated getting the kids ready. I’ve got four of those little monsters, every little task takes goddamn near twenty minutes.” Oh, no. This guy didn’t say it with annoyance, no, he seemed contemptuous when he talked about his kids. Eddie didn’t like that.
“Wouldn’t be so bad if my wife could just get a grip on them,” Maybe she could if she had help, you’re clearly useless, “Name’s Neil, by the way.” Eddie just raised his chin in acknowledgement. One would think ol’ Neil would catch on to Eddie not wanting to talk to him, but one would be wrong. “Yup. ‘S why I’m not on drop off duty. Sure, the pick up has its faults, kids always smell like a stale fart from all that running around and they’re babbling non-stop the whole ride, but I think you’ll find you’ll like being on pick-up duty,” Then he leaned in, like he was telling a secret and whispered out, “Most of the hot moms do the pick-ups.”
  That sixth sense Eddie had for you? Yeah, it was on freaking fire, hot red and jumping around. He was positive he now knew the reason behind your discomfort with picking Penny up. 
  Some fucking creep wouldn’t leave you alone. Eddie’s jaw ticked, hands clenched into fists from the insides of his pockets. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t necessary with this guy.
“Man, you should see some of them. You gotta wonder why they only have one kid, I’d be all over that.” He gave a low whistle before he let out the most unflattering of cackles.
  “You missed most of the show, but there’s this one mom–god, the body on this one. . .and she’s always done up, think she works in an office or something, but she’s a sight for sore eyes. A real MILF. She’s only got one kid, too. Little girl she picks up, so you know she’s tight.”
Eddie would be committing a crime, because he knew he was talking about you. He was going to murder this asshole. He was gonna strangle Neil with his own intestines and get rid of the body in the town dump where he belonged.
  He must have not noticed the crazed glint in Eddie’s eyes because the idiot kept going, “I know what you’re thinking, I’m not actively planning on doing anything. Haven’t seen her in a couple of days, pretty sure she’s working late or something because she’s gotta be snatching this kid up late. Heard she’s married to some greasy mechanic and a pretty little thing like that coming to pick up her kid with these dads around? Shit, I wouldn’t be letting her out of the house. He’s signing her up for this. You gotta wonder if she likes the attention. She’s got this shy thing going on, though. Always so meek when I’m chatting her up. Not like my wife.” Neil’s face contorted in disdain, “Four fucking kids, man.” Okay, Eddie would be murdering him on behalf of you, and his wife. And the rest of the human population. He’d had enough, it was time to make sure this shit wouldn’t be continuing. “You got any pictures?” Eddie asked, feigning interest for the first time since he’d come up to him. Neil scoffed and dug around in his pocket, “Wife won’t let me go anywhere without them, you know how it is. Constant reminders and all that, like she doesn’t trust me to not forget.”
Eddie tried not to snatch the photo out of his slimy hands, frown deepening when he realized Neil’s story about having a wife and kids was not in fact made up. Four beaming little faces stared back up at Eddie, with a pretty fifth smile in the picture. She was severely out of her husband’s league, seemingly juggling all the responsibilities on her own, all of them underappreciated and unfortunately stuck with him.
“Beautiful family,” He commented, eyes flashing to the door just as it opened to reveal Penny and the aide. He returned the photo and pulled out his wallet from his pocket by its chain. Eddie flashed the photo inside to Neil, who immediately looked like he was going to shit himself. The photo was of you sitting on the couch, Wayne sitting between your legs and Penny standing on the cushion next to you, clutching your shoulder as you all smiled for him.
  Eddie slipped the wallet back into his pocket, and just as Penny began to run over, he leaned in to whisper like Neil had earlier, “Here’s what’s gonna happen: you're not ever gonna talk to my wife again or I’ll fuck you up. If you so much as look in her direction, I’ll kill you. If you think about her, I’ll beat you 'til the bones of my knuckles break through the skin. I’ll make sure you experience pain like you’ve never felt before. Bones can heal, but I promise you they don’t grow back, you pathetic fucking worm. You don’t deserve your wife, who gave you four fucking beautiful children, and you don’t deserve your kids, either. If I ever see her in public, I’m gonna tell her that so you’d better start appreciating her now. I’ve got a friend who wants a ton of kids and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me sending him their way. Got it?” Neil, good ol’ clammy, pale faced Neil swallowed hard and silently nodded as Penny finally reached him, arms already outstretched. Eddie swooped her up before she ran into him, relishing in the way her arms wrapped tightly around him in a hug. And this fucker was annoyed to have four little people who gave him these.
“Hi, sweet pea! Daddy’s just gonna finish up this conversation with Neil here and we’ll head home to mama, okay?”
Penny nodded eagerly, turning her head to stare inquisitively at the man she knew was her friend Izzy’s dad.
  Eddie took Penny’s backpack off of her with her help and slid it over his free arm, “I’m glad we understand each other, Neil. And if we don’t, my buddy Steve’s on speed dial.”
  He smirked as he walked away, leaving Neil both dumbstruck and terror stricken. Eddie didn’t even stop when he recalled a small inaccuracy Neil had mentioned, calling over his shoulder, “And we have two kids!”
What a jerk.
“Tell me about your day?” Eddie asked as he slid open the backseat door and leaned forward so Penny could climb into her booster seat. “Oh, boy, daddy! It was long! First, teacher said we were gonna draw with crayons but she change-ed her mind and we got to paint with our fingers instead!” She displayed her clean, paint free fingers for him as Eddie buckled her in, “Oh, yeah? Did you paint me a picture?” “Yeah, ‘s in my pack pack. But we only gotted to paint for a little while ‘cause Stanley tried to eat it.” “Not again, Stanley.” “I know!” Penny filled him in the rest of the drive home, while he got her out of her seat, the entire walk into the apartment building, only stopping when he opened the door for her and she caught sight of you. “MOMMY!” She let go of Eddie’s hand to run into your waiting arms. “Hi, baby! Did you have a good day at school?” You asked after you’d gotten in a good cuddle squeeze. “Uh huh! I painted with my fingers!” Penny ran back to Eddie and dug around in the backpack now dangling at his side until she retrieved a very poorly folded piece of thick paper. “I gotta show Waynie, first!” She bypassed you and ran straight for her baby brother, who was clutching the seat cushion of the couch and bobbing up and down. He’d be walking any day now. Eddie set Penny’s yellow backpack down on the counter as he closed the distance between you, arms wrapping around your middle to pull you flush up against him. “I don’t know how you do it, they make you wait forever.” He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as you laughed. “It’s not that bad!”
“Yeah, well, regardless, you should be having a much easier time picking her up.”
It was easy for you to read between the lines and pick up his real meaning. Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment before they softened, and you leaned further into him, hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders. “Thank you.” You’d been afraid to mention the invasive and unwelcome attention you’d gained from one of the dads. Ashamed. He’d been vulgar, blatant and creepy. Even on the days he wouldn't approach you, you could still feel his eyes on you, on your body. It made you feel gross and cheap, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d politely tried to get away from him when you’d find yourself in that situation, but where you went, he followed. Soon, you’d begun waiting in your parked car until Neil left, and when that wasn’t good enough, you’d either go home and wait until just before they closed–which you hated because you didn’t like to keep Penny waiting there when she could be at home–or wait in the parking lot at work until you’d make it when all the other kids were mostly gone. It was draining, and made you dread the end of the work day. 
“You never have to thank me,” Eddie leaned down just as you leaned up to kiss him, mouths mingling a little more on the wet side since you knew neither of your kids’ attention was on you. When you finally broke away, Eddie licked his lips and sighed. “Seriously, though. I don’t know how you do it. Men are gross and creepy, I wanted to deck him before he even really said anything. And what he did say–ugh. Let me know if you see his head turn in your direction, honey, ‘cause I made a promise I’m eager to not break.” You hummed appreciatively as you leaned up for more kisses, “My hero.”
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ddejavvu · 11 months
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I would love something with spencer protecting/defending reader! Maybe like the team goes out for drinks and a guy can’t take no for an answer? And like reader is totally capable of protecting herself but it just makes her so soft that spencer will stand up for her and keep her safe 🥲
You're nearing minute three of the sleazeball across the bar from you eyeing you up, and you suppose you're making it worse by checking if he's still looking. Because he is, every single time, and now you've made it look like you're interested.
"Oh, shit," You grumble as he pushes off of the wall behind him, heading your way, "Creep-o's coming over."
Creep-o fights through the crowd to land beside you, leaning obnoxiously close on the sticky table you're sitting at.
"Hey," He drawls, liquor hot on his breath, "Saw you starin' at me."
"I'm not interested," You lean away from him, into Spencer's side, "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea."
"Oh, hard to get," Creep-o infers, "I get it."
"No, you really don't. I'm taken, I wasn't trying to flirt with you."
"You sure? I think you just want me to chase you," The man smirks cockily at his false win, "'Cause you sure glanced back at me a lot."
"No," You start, but Spencer rings an arm around your waist and squeezes gently, calming your rising annoyance.
"Are you a fan of horror movies?" Spencer leans over to ask the man, who looks slightly confused at the interruption.
"I've seen my fair share."
"Okay. So, you know when the music gets suspenseful, and the character is walking into a dark room, and you know the chainsaw murderer is hiding behind the door?"
The man nods, once, still confused.
"But you watch anyways, and get scared? Some things are too repulsive to look away from."
"You son of a bitch," The man starts, but Spencer's slid off his stool in a second flat and Morgan is behind him. Spencer could do damage, you know he's fought unsubs before, but Morgan is even more visually intimidating, and this guy doesn't want to take his chances.
"Walk away." Spencer advises him, and it looks like it physically pains Creep-o to do so. But he does, in case one of the tall men squared up in front of him decide to lunge.
When it's safe, Spencer and Morgan reclaim their seats, the former bumping his shoulder into yours as he sits. You lean into him gratefully, murmuring forlornly, "It was my fault. I was looking at him."
"But you said no," Spencer hums, kissing the crown of your head and slipping his arm around your waist again, "I hope you don't mind that I stepped in. I know you could have handled him. He just made me mad."
"I don't mind," You muse, reaching to swipe away a bead of condensation that's on the table, "I liked it. A lot."
"Yeah?" Spencer cracks a grin against your hairline, "Horror movie metaphors are what do it for you?"
"That and your fists clenched," You reach out with your wet-tipped finger to ghost it along Spencer's thumb, "That was hot, Spence."
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notjustjavierpena · 17 days
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Meadow (Drabble)
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
My last fic here in a while. Please consider following me on AO3 💖❤️
Summary: Javier hears you singing to his newborn.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)
Tags: Domestic, sugary fluff, Javi POV, babies!
Word count: 850
Meadow
Javier tries to be quiet as he returns to you, carrying a stuffed Eeyore in his hand while listening for the sound of Inés' unhappy hiccups. He calculates his steps on the ground to make sure not to step on a twig or a branch, the crackle of it sure to distress his newborn even more.
He finds that the tall grass dotted with wildflowers and the soft earth is forgiving of his feet, so much so that his presence goes completely unnoticed by you. He never knew that this spot existed, having always treated the road as nothing more but a road until you showed him that its surroundings were so much more. There’s a metaphor somewhere in that, something about him just passing through and you making him able to stop and take a look around. 
The sun is warm on his exposed skin, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and you have convinced him to leave the jeans for a pair of comfortable slacks instead. He checks the time to see how long he has been gone and it’s nothing more than a few minutes, realizes that the sun is starting to fade from being at its highest point today. 
As he draws nearer to the spot you chose, Inés’ cries have died down completely until they are not heard at all. Instead, it is the soft sound of your voice that drifts through the air to him. You are singing quietly to his daughter, a lullaby that he remembers having heard before in a distant memory of his own childhood. 
A breeze rustles the leaves of the oak tree you sit beneath, its crown of leaves protecting you both from direct sunlight. As if forced by nature to relax, he hears the birds chirping too. This is peace and contentment, he thinks, and how wonderful it is to do nothing with the people that he loves the most. 
When he finally spots you, he finds you sitting on the blanket you brought with your sweater tucked underneath your slightly bent knees. Inés is resting in your lap, cradled by your soft arms, and sleeping soundly with her tiny fingers curled into fists. You are so beautiful as you stare down into his daughter’s blissful face, your smile even warmer in the soft glow of the sun. 
Occasionally, you run a thumb over the length of her nose but you never stop singing to her. The stuffed animal seems a waste of time now but if he hadn’t gotten it from the car, he would have never caught you like this. 
How has he gotten so lucky, he wonders, to have such an incredible woman to be the witness of his life? He cannot believe how sentimental you have made him, his chest aching as he watches your beauty grow even further as it is enhanced by the nature around you. More than a decade in Colombia and he thought he would never feel anything again. How ridiculous a thought that is. 
When he finally makes himself known again, bursting the bubble of quiet admiration he has been in, you turn your head when he kneels down beside you. You stop singing but Inés sleeps on.
Without a word, you notice Javier and then smile until it widens into a grin on your face that outshines the summer sunshine. He smiles back and places Eeyore on the ground in front of you, purposefully posing him to stand in the grass because you always hate when he is careless about stuffed toys. 
“I hope he doesn’t mind getting left in the car,” he whispers as he makes sure Eeyore won’t tip over, “Sorry it took a bit.”
“It’s okay,” you say quietly, “You have made it up to him; grass is his favorite.” 
“Papá! There are frogs here!” Suddenly, his four-year-old son emerges from somewhere in the tall grass, carrying a stick in his hand that he seems to be using as a sword. He grins widely as he approaches the three of you, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he walks quickly on the uneven ground and Javier holds out his hand in case he has to catch him.
“Careful, Muchacho (young man),” Javier chuckles, “You might scare them away if you trip.” 
“I found the biggest frog ever!” Lucas brags and falls into his father’s embrace, throwing his arms around his neck, “I want to show you!”
Javier looks at you to silently ask if you need him. Lucas presses on, “Come on, Dad!”
Inés fusses a little at being woken up by the noises around her. You take the stuffed animal and wiggle it in the air in front of her. You start singing again. It is something about meadows and daisies, something about being warm and kept from harm. 
“Go,” you stop briefly to urge him, “We’ll be here when you come back.”
And as Javier gets up from the ground and takes his son’s hand, he smiles because he knows that you will.
.
.
.
My last fic here in a while. Please consider following me on AO3 💖❤️
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MDNI // smut warning ⚠️
Oh Jeongin, Innie, Baby Bread, Big Daddy Busan… His fingers are just grrrrr so fucking long and slender. But STRONG.
Can you imagine the places those fingertips can reach - effortlessly?
Or he can curl them up, creating a stretch (because his curled fingers take up a lot of room inside you), as he digs into that squishy spot that makes you cry his name and cum all over him.
He just loves it when your juices trickle down his fingers. “So wet, I have to taste you.” He says as he pops them into his mouth, smiling slyly.
He loves how dripping you get when he fills you with three fingers, fucking you slowly.
And don’t get me started on how he works his fingers on your other hole. Circling his finger on your rim, spreading the lube around getting you ready. Then easing his way into you. His fingers reach such depths that you’re metaphorically choking on them.
God, you love to feel his fingers everywhere, and he loves to touch you everywhere! From wiping your tears away, or protectively holding your hand, to massaging your thighs while watching a movie, to gripping your wrists and holding them above your head while he fucks you dumb with his long cock. You love it, he loves it.
After he’s finished fucking you and painting your insides with his hot, white cum, he’ll often use his fingers to push the cum back up inside of you.
Or he’ll just as likely scoop up some of his cum and shove those fingers so far into your mouth your literary chocking on them. “Come on sugar, lick me clean.”
You love it, he loves it.
@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @newhope8
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leviathans-watching · 9 months
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request for obey me headcanons where luke treats the reader as their older sibling n gets protective of them ?
bonus points for scenting, where luke scents the reader w his familial scent (cause i do imagine that there are different types of scenting, familial, romantic n platonic n each smell different from one another) n will try to “purify” the reader by replacing the brothers scents w his own
protective luke
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includes: luke & gn!reader, minor the brothers x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
wc: .4k | rated g | m.list
a/n: aww this was so cute tysm for requesting <3 my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, and req so come say hi!!
please reblog <33333
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“seriously,” luke huffs, pressing his cheek to your arm, “do you just let them hang all over you? their scents are everywhere!”
you let out an amused sigh. “well, i’m living with them, aren’t i? it’d be more strange if i didn’t have traces of their scent on me.”
“traces,” luke mutters. “right. and thanks for bringing living with them up so i don’t have to. you need to move out and come live with us immediately. we’re way better than those no-good demons anyway. and simeon is probably a much better cook than all seven combined.”
he’s not wrong, but admitting that would only increase his overprotectiveness dedication to protecting you.
“be careful what you say about demons down here,” you say mildly, and he rolls his eyes.
“bah! i don’t even get why you care for them so much! i worry about you, you know! who knows what schemes they’re cooking up!”
“i appreciate your concern,” you reply gently, meaning it, “and i know how much you don’t like the boys, but they’re my friends and i enjoy spending time with them. i care about them like you care about me.”
he scowls, blond hair falling in front of his eyes. “that’s unfortunate. fine! i’ll permit you to keep living with them, as long as you don’t let them touch you anymore. they’re not subtle about wanting to sink their claws into you!”
literally and metaphorically.
“i can’t promise that,” you say.
“but you always stink! well, not you,” he amends quickly, “but their scent on you does. that’s why i don’t want them touching you! they’re laying claim shamelessly and it’s disgusting!”
you hide a smile. he doesn’t need to know that that pleases you to hear.
“i’ve got it!” luke says suddenly, leaning across his bed and grabbing one of the many stuffed bears. he offers it to you. “this has got my scent all over it! this should help keep theirs at bay and help protect you. promise you’ll keep it with you?”
“i promise,” you say, taking the bear from him. he also doesn’t need to know that the boys barely register his scent, weak due to his lack of age and power, especially compared to theirs.
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 months
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Five: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, arm/hand kink, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, suicide/death metaphor[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin is and always will be the most romantic man to exist, that is all. Psycho!Stalker!Ani loves counting idk he just does & I know it.[diary entries from Ani] [texts from Luke] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
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Diary Entry: July 8th
You’d better be glad I’m patient, or else you’d have another dead neighbor.
When I heard the *wwoop* of your phone sending out a text on my computer I didn’t check it immediately. Until I heard four *pings* in quick succession.
‘Lukey, call me.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m in class.’
‘10 mins’
‘Or emergency?’
Remember how I said I like Luke? I like him a little bit less. Who texts like that… just write a sentence like a normal person. One sentence.
‘emergency!!’
Emergency? The panic that flooded my veins was icy-hot as I frantically pulled up a the live feed of your home and blasted the volume.
Nothing.
You were just sitting on the couch snacking on those Extra Toasty Cheezits that you love so much. (Cheezits was a marketing genius for that though, profiting off burnt ones because little weirdos like you lived for that one random burnt piece at the bottom of the bag. Goofy girl.)
That doesn’t seem very ‘emergency!!’ to me. Unless you’ve run out of Cheezits, but you haven’t. I would know.
I chewed my nails, paced the floor, and wrung out my hands. I couldn’t just walk over there and say ‘Hey! Just wanted to make sure you’re okay cause I cloned your phone and saw a concerning text! How can I help?’.
You seemed fine, you weren’t crying, you didn’t look upset. You just started scrolling through Instagram reels and rapid-fire sending them to your sister as if she’d actually watch them all. We all know she won’t, but if you ask she’ll say she did.
‘step out. emergency!!’
‘no, give me 4. it can wait.’
Jesus Luke, are you trying to make me dislike you? I can’t believe you’d make her wait like that. The girl said it’s an emergency. That means pick up the fucking phone, dial her fucking number and say ‘I’m on my way, what’s going on?’
Drop everything and fucking run. I’d jump from a moving train if I got that text from you. Train station who? I have two legs and I can run pretty fast as long as I have the right motivation.
Pass a kid on a bike? ‘Scuse me I’m commandeering this vehicle.’ I’d be the fucking flash with pink tassels and purple glow wheels.
‘Now!!’
The suspense was literally killing me. I was withering away with worry.
‘if it’s the guy again I swear to god.’
Guy? What guy? What had I missed? There was a guy in your life that wasn’t me?
‘just fucking call me.’
Yeah, you heard the girl. Fucking call her already.
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“No he did not.” Luke scoffed, as if what you’d told him was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in ages.
“I swear. I swear he did!” You giggled folding over on the couch.
“There’s no way a straight man did that for you and didn’t try to fuck.” Luke laughed. “I don’t believe you. You’re delusional.”
“I am not!” You defended, not actually hurt by his comment but wanting to prove him wrong anyway.
“I literally don’t believe you.” He let out a snort and whispered something to Han on the other end of the line. “Han said he’s still set on Ben for you.”
“I told you I am not interested. There’s a reason I never texted him!” You retorted.
“Yeah because you lost his number you pea-brain.” He teased.
“No.” You said with a slightly haughty tone. “I happen to believe it was just the universe telling me it wasn’t meant to be.”
“That’s a really good justification for loosing his number.” Han’s voice came through the speaker slightly muffled from his distance.
“Shut up both of you. You’re horrible.” You laughed. “I’m sticking to it. The universe said no and I’m no match for the powers that be, m’kay?”
“Sure babes.” Luke said, you could almost hear his stupid little smirk.
“Anyway. Yes, look I’ll send you a picture of the book okay?” You hopped up quickly and snapped a picture to send to Luke’s phone. “Cause I can’t exactly send you a picture of him helping me with my groceries.”
“Mmhmm I know because it didn’t happen.” Luke said flatly. “Hard to get a picture of a hallucination.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed, Luke was just being protective. It’s not like he was wrong, most men wouldn’t do something like that out of the kindness of their heart.
“This would be so much easier if you had an iPhone. You might be hideous but I still miss your face.” You teased, hearing Han’s booming laugh in the background.
“Whatever.” Luke grumbled, “okay, so what am I looking at here?”
“See it’s this collection of paper that has typed out wo-“
“Smartass. I mean: what’s so… cool? about it?” He interrupted.
“It’s a special edition. $50. He just gave me a special edition book without a second thought.” You said excitedly. “Remember I lost my copy not too long ago?”
“Mmm yeah I think I remember.” He said noncommittally. “You should really keep up with your shit.”
“Hey I’m doing better!” You retorted. “My life is so put together right now. You’d be amazed.”
“Delusional Han I’m telling you.” He snickered quietly.
“Oh my god! Have you no faith in me at all?” You scoffed. “I haven’t forgotten to charge my phone or take my medicine. I’ve kept everything tidy. All my important stuff stays in my bag.”
“You’ve been possessed.” Luke gasped.
“Fuck. If I have then I’ve got the sweetest demon the 7th circle could provide.” You joked. “I’ve even been sleeping better, I think maybe even boogie is happier too. She’s started sitting at the living room window to watch the pigeons again.”
“Aw, my niece.” He crooned. “My *favorite* niece.”
“What about leia’s new-“
“I said what I said.” Luke interrupted.
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Diary Entry: July 8th
The way you gushed about me on the phone was everything I could’ve asked for and more. I’ve never been so fucking proud of myself. I feel like I could… I don’t know lift a fucking car or something. I feel good. This is a good feeling, to be appreciated like this.
I want you to know how happy you’ve made me today.
To hear your voice, see your face, watch your body language as you spoke about how we met and our little chat today. I could live off purely that for days. Your giggle is nourishment for my soul, your voice is honey to drink with my tea, your beauty is the sugar in the much-to-big spoon I’d use to stir it with.
That’s what life with you would be like. Tea time. It’s soft, I always think of tea time as being soft; a big blanket of comfort and security. I just feel like it’s the perfect metaphor.
You are the ingredients. The tea leaves, honey, sugar, and water.
I am the the cup and life, fate, whatever it may be, is the spoon.
Can you use all of those things separately? Sure. But would it make much sense to pour hot water on a pile of dry leaves, drizzle some honey and sprinkle sugar into a goopy puddle right on the kitchen counter?
Would it be enjoyable to drink air from a small cup and leave the spoon lonely and unused?
No.
You need me to hold you; you are so many things. All of them are perfect and all of them are uniquely you. But when joined together in a secure little cup you’ll have the opportunity to mesh those things into something new.
A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it. Cold and empty ceramic. Sturdy and reliable although delicate when handled irresponsibly.
Fill me with you. All of you.
You’ve already started that you know? Each tea leaf is a tidbit of you.
Your likes and dislikes. Your happiest memories and even your sad ones, your angry moments, your bad days. I love and cherish even the deepest caverns and widest chasms in your beautiful mind. Without them, you wouldn’t be you.
Please believe me when I say that even if the leaves are crumpled or incomplete… it doesn’t mean that they won’t make tea.
Honey, my favorite. Your personality. God you’re so fucking sweet it hurts. Your voice, those lovely lips that speak such well written poetry.
My love, everything you say is a hymn.
I wasn’t a religious man before you. My Goddess, I fall to my knees at the altar for you. Speak to me and you’ll sing to my very soul. Tell me truth, tell me lies, tell me those things that float through the nether. I’ll take it all as gospel.
Ask of me anything and I will spill blood, even if it is my own, to provide you with whatever you wish.
I never understood why honey was akin to the nectar of the gods until I met you.
Now I understand. To taste you is to taste life. To smell you is to breathe freely. To feel you is to be soothed.
Sugar. Do you know how many grains of sugar are in the average tablespoon? Around 60,000. The human eye processes visuals at the average rate of 13 milliseconds per image. Even faster if presented with an image that invokes emotion. Though for the purposes of math, we will go with 13 milliseconds.
13 milliseconds is about 75 frames per second. 60 seconds in one minute. 4,500 frames.
If the average tablespoon holds 60,000 grains of sugar that’s 270,000,000 frames per second.
4,500,000 minutes. 75,000 hours. 3,125 days. About 102 months. Alittle over 8 years.
I use 3 tablespoons of sugar per cup of tea.
That means by our 25 anniversary I will have been graced with every grain of your beauty.
By then I’ll probably need a few more spoonfuls if I plan to survive raising children with you. If they’re as hyperactive as you get sometimes I’ll fucking need it.
Oh well. Just more time for me to bask in your beauty.
All these things have filled me, your cup. All that I need now is water. Your love.
The kind of love that burns so hot that it bubbles up beneath your skin and makes you itch if you’re apart for too long.
That’s what happens when water boils, the atoms separate and bounce around until they come back together as the water cools.
Just like us.
I’m the flame that’s heating your water, the closer I get the hotter it’ll grow until it’s rattling the kettle, screaming to be let out and bring all the pieces together.
Adding that boiling water, your love. It will bring life to me. You’ll warm the cold ceramic shell that I’ve been for so long. Fragile and lonely and horribly handled. I might have a few chips but the foundation is strong and worthy.
A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it.
You give me purpose. You make me useful.
I will let our love steep. Let it steep, because you can’t make tea without all the ingredients and a water-worthy cup.
We will stir it and stir it and stir it until the the hand of fate declares us ready, I will be there for you at the *clink* of the spoon against my rim.
I will be there after to hold you until the very last sip.
I will be there until I am broken beyond repair.
If the last sip happens before my ceramic cracks… I will be quick to join you after slipping through the hands of fate.
It’s a long winded way to say that I love you, but if you wanted, I would memorize it and recite it for you every night before drift to sleep.
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Diary Entry: July 12th
You’re so cute.
I don’t know how you haven’t noticed that your laundry detergent should’ve run out ages ago. I giggle like a school girl everytime I see you at the laundromat holding it up to measure it out.
I’ve started washing my stuff in the same as you, I love the way your laundry smells.
But I love the way you smell even more.
You just bought some new sheets recently and I took the liberty of ordering the same ones. What luck that we both use a queen size bed huh? The cutesy little strawberry print isn’t exactly my style but I don’t give a shit. The giddy way you opened up your package was nothing short of adorable.
You know what else is super handy about using the same detergent?
You won’t notice when I switch them out.
You’re washing them for the first time today since you just received them in the mail yesterday. I know you’re so excited to put them on and make your pretty pink bed up, I’m amazed you had the patience to wait until today to go to the laundromat. It’s open 24/7, proud of you baby. Prioritizing that good deep sleep you’ve been getting.
You’re welcome, and thank you.
Watching you sleep from the end of the bed is one of my favorite things. It just… I don’t know it makes me feel comforted to be there. It’s the closest thing to sleeping next to you that I can get right now. Then I’ll be getting some good deep sleep.
It’s hard for me to rest if I can’t reach out and make sure you’re safe.
The audio from your room is wonderful ASMR though. Your snores and snuffles and the rustling of blankets while you sprawl out and occupy as much space as your body can manage; it’s soothing to me.
Partially because I know you’re okay, partially because I was able to give you that deep rest.
You wash your sheets once a week because you love the feeling of fresh warm linens. It’s the simple pleasures of life that bring you the most joy. That’s something I adore about you.
So here’s the plan. I’m a man of my word and I promised you a reward for all your hard work didn’t I? I’m also a man who enjoys the killing of two birds with one stone.
Life goes so much more smoothly if you take the time to line up the shot.
That’s why I immediately ordered my own set as soon as I checked your Amazon account. Mine arrived today too and I’ll be stopping by the laundromat just as you’re leaving. I’ve left them in the box and put it at the bottom of my basket though, I don’t want to ruin the surprise you know?
I’m so glad I was able to hear your little chat with your friends. Not only was it a wonderful reassurance, it also allowed me to plan our encounters more closely together. I’ve made myself known to you, I’ve spaced out our previous meetings well enough to leave you wishing you’d catch me out in the hallway even for a quick hello.
Trust me I have been dying to indulge you. But if this whole relationship has taught me anything it’s: trust the process.
See you soon princess, my timer just went off. I’ll be there just in time to watch you nuzzle your face into the last warm item of clothing from the dryer before tossing it in the basket.
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Date:
July 12th
You were tossing the last of your clean laundry into the basket when the bell above the door jingled. Purely out of habit you glanced over, instead of the usual stranger or semi-familiar face, it was Anakin.
He seemed not to notice you straight away, keeping his head down and walking to the washer/dryer set closest to the front window.
It was shameful the way you took this opportunity to stare and soak him up. His whole physique just screamed at the primal parts of your brain. The parts that want you to sprint across the laundromat and l seduce him into ravaging you right up against the glass he stood near. Who cares who sees? You’d be beyond proud to be spotted in the throes of passion as long as it was him who was behind you.
The way his arms moved should be illegal. How is it possible for someone to be so… lean? The veins that and corded tendons that roll beneath his skin become even more visible as his wrist gives way to his hands.
Wide palms that would be perfect for grabbing a handful of your ass. Gripping your hips to guide you down onto what you can only assume is an equally impressive cock.
Long fingers as the most elegantly carved necklace. Fingertips that could trace swirling patterns across the vast expanse of your skin. Those same fingertips caressing the slick and swollen folds that just so happened to be in desperate need of his attention.
How could you not be a puddle of a person when he locks eyes with you like that? Like he’s reading the transcript of your soul, his eyes never stayed in one place too long. He needed to take in as much of you as possible each and everytime he was in your company.
How could you not forget how to speak when he walks over to you with such confidence? His towering frame would be intimidating if he didn’t radiate comfort. He seemed like he knew he had that affect on you, or maybe he was just one of those clueless types. That special kind of man who doesn’t realize what a catch they are.
“What’s up sweet girl?” He asked with that same gritty tone that had you feigning for him in ways he’d find unholy.
“Hey Anakin.” You managed to tone down the smile that instantly spread across your face. “I was just about to leave…”
“Well isn’t that a shame.” He chuckled, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again before he looked up and away. Stretching his arm up behind his head to rub his neck.
“Hmm yeah it is.” You murmured, too distracted by the tiny sliver of skin and dark hair the peaked out from beneath the hem of his shirt.
“Eyes up baby.” He teased, his finger tapping the underside of your chin before you could even register his hand was coming toward you.
‘Jesus Christ.’
If he can make your knees this weak from a few words… it’s almost concerning to think of the state you’d be in after he rearranges your guts.
The blush on your cheeks could’ve been mistaken for a sunburn, never had you felt so fucking embarrassed and flustered at the same time. You couldn’t even be mad.
“Let me help, yeah?” He said, choosing to glaze over your blatant staring and not push it farther with the teasing comments.
Truly a gentleman.
“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” You nodded. “Thanks.”
You managed a soft smile as your brain attempted to rewire itself into working condition again. He closed the dryer and placed your detergent and fabric softener beads into your basket and carried them over to his washer/dryer combo, expecting you to follow.
He sat it down near one of the many metal folding chairs lining the wall and turned to you again, his expression one of concern? Worry? Apprehension?
“You okay sweetheart?” He asked gently. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “Uncomfortable? No, no.” You shook your head in realization that he must’ve assumed he’d struck a nerve with his flirtatious comment.
“You sure?” He asked.
Somehow his hands, those strong hands that you just knew would feel like heaven on your skin, had made their way to your biceps. Slowly traveling the length of your forearm to hold both of your hands in his, your fingers curved over his while his thumb rubbed your knuckles.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” You nodded, shooting him a bashful smile.
His eyes searched your face like he was scanning for even the most minuscule change in expression, any twitch of your lip or shift in your line of sight that might say otherwise. When he was sure you were being truthful he spoke again.
“Alright princess,” he conceded with a warm tone. “you sticking around or headed out?”
“I’d stay to chat for a bit if I could, but I’ve gotta clock-in, in about… 45mins.” You said, thankful for the change in subject.
Anakin never failed to both confuse and amaze you. Every fucking time you spoke to him. You were tired of telling yourself he was just too damn good to be true, fuck it, he is that good.
In all your years, you’d never had a man check-in with you like that and in such a caring and considerate way… you couldn’t have dreamed up a man like this. It was a small detail of his character, but it made a world of a difference.
If you would’ve said ‘yes, that made me uncomfortable.’ you had no doubt in your mind that he would apologize and mean it. He’d mean it, apologize with his whole chest and make sure that it never ever happened again.
That was the kind of comfort and security that only a fictional love could provide.
But here he is.
In the flesh.
Maybe hearing about this, Luke might change his mind. Luke was only doing his job as your best friend and protector, shielding you from the dangers of the average Brad that you’d dated in the past. But…
Anakin’s not that kinda guy.
“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever told me where you work.” Anakin pointed out.
“Huh, I guess I haven’t.” You realized. “Bluebird Diner. It’s a good place to eat, yummy pie.”
“Oh yeah I’ve been there before!” Anakin said happily, “that butterscotch pie is so good, oh my god.”
“Right?” You agreed excitedly. “That’s my favorite. I’ll have to tell Rosa that she’s getting compliments on it. She’ll be thrilled.”
“Maybe I’ll grab a slice later.” Anakin suggested. “Before I have to go clock-in.”
“Where do you work?” You asked, finding it a bit comical that you were drooling over him but didn’t even know this basic detail of his life.
“The Cerulean.” Anakin nodded toward the window. “Just a couple blocks from here.”
“The Cerulean? What do you do, bartend?” You asked, curious as alittle itch in the back of your mind needed to be scratched.
“Mhm, I do.” He smiled.
“I think… oh my god. I think I’ve seen you there before!” You laughed. “It was a while back but I was there with some friends… you made my drink!”
“Really?” Anakin laughed. “Shit don’t make me feel bad baby, I don’t remember that.”
“I didn’t expect you too.” You giggled. “The place was packed. I can’t imagine how many people you serve a night.”
“You’ve got no idea.” He blew out a puff of air, with a chuckle.
“Well I’m due for a night out soon,” you said with a grin. “You come grab some pie later and I’ll come get a drink from you tomorrow night.”
“Sounds like a deal princess.” He beamed.
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Part Six
Tag-List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @lonaah @t8lzw @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco
THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.
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kmt123whatsthetea · 3 months
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Forest desires
George Weasley x reader
Requested by: @georgeweasleywife4566
Request gist: “George and the reader have sex in the forest”
A/N: Thank you for the request! I decided to slow things down and make it a soft sex one (it wasn't really specified so I thought I’d give my little pervert brain a rest). I’ve been in a world of self-pity lately (my dad got to meet the guy who played Percy Weasley, and didn’t invite me to the comic con). I'm also sorry that it's taking me so long to write, I’ve been sucked into RE4 (my hand is glued to the controller)
T/W: unprotected sex, forest sex, mentions of exhibitionism, Goblet of Fire George (it's not a trigger but I didn't want it to get lost in the A/N), teasing, fingering, reader is a little unsure about the situation but George comforts her, George licking your juices (it sounds so unsexy like that), George being a gentle boy,
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George could talk you into anything.
From sneaking around the castle late at night to getting frisky under the Quidditch stands, he’d twist your arm. Metaphorically, of course.
But this was a new fantasy he had.
“What if you and I snuck into the Forbidden Forest tonight?”
Knowing George, this wasn’t just a moonlight jaunt. He had something naughty planned. But knowing you, you’d agree to go.
____________________________________________
The sneaky trek down to the forest wasn't new to you or George. He had snuck out many times and sometimes brought you along on a late night pranking mission with Fred.
Before you knew it, he was pulling you by the hand deeper into the dark woods. He pulled you to a small clearing where the tree’s parted, letting the moonlight in. How could the Forbidden Forest be so romantic with all of the centaurs, unicorns, and spiders running around? The thought made you pull George's hand, a little reluctant to get busy in a place that man feared and machinery disappeared (said machinery being the Weasley’s flying Ford Anglia).
George chuckled at your reluctance. He always found it fun to talk you into different situations, like pulling pranks on staff members or messing with the Slytherins that walked to class alone. But when it came to intimate situations, he was the king of persuasion.
“It’s okay, love. You know I’ll always protect you from any scary monsters that hide in the shadows. You’re my girl, remember?”
All it took was the ‘My Girl’ line, and he could convince you to do anything.
He sat on the grass and patted the spot next to him. When you had sat down, he moved a little closer. His lips found yours in a tender kiss, knowing just how to make you relax. One of his hands cupped your cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb, while his other hand moved to your thigh, toying with the fabric of your pyjama shorts.
Your hands found their way to his hair, threading through his ginger locks. You loved that he grew his hair out over the past couple of years but you’d never admit it to his face, not wanting to make his ego any bigger.
George slowly guided you to lay down before laying himself on top of you. His lips reconnected with yours and his tongue slowly swiped across your bottom lip. His hands reached for your shorts, pushing them down to your knees and leaving your underwear. His thumb found your clit through the material to rub light circles over it while his kisses silenced your soft moans and whimpers.
When you bucked your hips to try and gain more friction, he lifted his thumb to deprive you of the friction you were chasing. When he broke the kiss, you whined.
“Georgie, stop teasing. I need you”
“I thought you were worried about being seen, love. Does my dirty girl like the thought of being watched while getting her pretty pussy played with?”
He pulled your underwear to the side and rubbed his thumb around your hole, not giving you what you desperately needed.
“Maybe if you tell me what you want, I’ll give it to you”
His husky voice and sinful words were going to be the death of you one of these days.
“I want you, Georgie. I want you inside of me. Please?”
Or maybe it was your innocent whimpers and doe eyes that would be the death of him instead. His smirk grew, it always did when he got you to reveal that dirty side that you kept hidden beneath that goody two shoes exterior. He pushed his finger inside, curling it to rub against your sensitive G-spot. He could find it quicker than finding a target for his pranks.
His other hand cupped your cheek, keeping your eyes on him. He pushed another finger in, scissoring them to stretch you out. He could tell that you were trying to hold back your moans, that little voice in your head still telling you that some creature was hiding in the fog. His lips grazed against your cheek.
“It's just us out here. Those pretty noises of yours are for my ears only”
When your walls started to squeeze his fingers, he knew you were close. His thumb rubbed small circles over your clit once again and that's all it took for your orgasm to catch up. This time, you didn't hold your moans back, letting George hear just how good he made you feel.
He pulled his fingers away from your pussy before bringing them to his mouth and licking off your juices from them. He loved the way you tasted.
You moved your hands to his pyjama bottoms this time, surprising him. You pulled them down just enough to pull his cock out. Moving his tip to your entrance, you coated it in your juices before looking up at him with those pleading ‘fuck me’ eyes.
He moved his hips forward, pushing in slowly. He bottomed out, letting you take a moment to adjust to him. He stroked your jaw with gentle fingers.
“Keep those eyes on me, love”
His eyes bore into yours as he slowly pulled his hips back. He kept his thrusts slow and gentle, always treating you as if you were made of glass. You reminded him often that you wouldn't break if he was rough, but he insisted that you were precious.
He slowly slid his cock in and out of your pussy. His gentle grunts and your moans mixed with the soft sounds of the forest at night. Your voice came out in small whimpers.
“Please George, need more”
“You don’t need more baby, I wanna make it last”
His movements remained slow, taking his time to drive you crazy. His hand moved down to your hip, holding you and stopping you from squirming and escaping his torturously slow pace. When he went slow like this, you could feel everything. Every vein, every curve, every twitch. Although you hated how slow his pace was, you loved how full it left you feeling.
“I know you’re close, baby. Cum all over my cock and I’ll fill you up. I know you like to be nice and full”
He knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. You had been so focused on how full you were starting to feel that you hadn't noticed your orgasm creeping up on you. You came on his cock, squeezing it so snuggly and coating it with your juices. He followed soon after, spilling his seed deep inside of your pussy. His thrusts stopped, content with keeping his cum inside of you for now.
He laid himself on top of you, being mindful not to crush you.
“You know love, tomorrow is a Saturday. We could stay out here for another round”
George could always talk you into anything.
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pedgito · 1 year
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just saw an asks where you are talking about mean eddie mocking you and it did something to me lmao. could you elaborate on that with a little blurb. maybe ur riding eddie and it just feels so good that your legs give up on u and he is being mean and sarcastic about it till he takes the lead
author’s note: i couldn’t remember what i said about that so just enjoy really playful/mean eddie, this would’ve been longer but i’ve been struggling a bit lately, still i hope you enjoy!
cw: 18+ (minors dni) mean!eddie & mean!reader (but it’s all playful, slight dom!eddie (if you squint), protected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 1.8k
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Eddie was an antagonizer in its purest form, never malicious but always with an endgame in mind. It would start as subtle teasing, off-handed comments that would have you retorting back in such a manner that Eddie couldn’t help but smile, knowing he’d get you back for it later.
He’d crowd behind you at your locker, hand clasped over yours where it’s gripping the metal and whisper against your ear, “Keep wearing stuff like that and I’m not gonna be able to handle myself.”
You could wear anything and Eddie would have the same response, but that was beside the point. His free hand slips into the open hole of your ripped jeans against your upper thigh and squeezes, forcing a surprised laugh out of you, muffling it with your hand as you ducked your head into your locker, elbowing him gently with your other arm.
It was an everyday occurrence now and you’ve learned the only way to shut him up is to react, even if you’d regret it later.
“What? So you can fuck me in the bathroom again?” You tease lightly, “A whole three minutes? I know you can do better.”
Eddie shrugs, “Can you blame me?”
His attraction toward you was never-ending and intense, something you’ve never experienced before him. Eddie was the kind of suffocating love you always wanted, soaking up every moment of it.
“Part of me thinks you like the idea of getting caught,” You smirk half heartedly, “kinda fucked up if you ask me.”
“You’re one to talk.” Eddie replies, ignoring your obvious jab.
You laugh softly, leaning forward until your lips are barely touching, eyes glaring into Eddie’s, “Is that what you want?”
Eddie makes a small noise of confusion, still playing into your act.
“You wanna fuck me, right here?” Eddie wouldn’t dare, he’s not that asinine, but he enjoys the back and forth, the deep fire in your eyes as you speak to him. Your hand tugs at the hem of his shirt, hand resting just above the belt of his jeans, twisting the shirt in your hands slightly before pulling him toward you abruptly, pressing a bruising kiss against his lips.
“Too bad,” You answer for him, “I need to focus on this English test,” Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes—you were perfectly fine, up to aces with all of your work and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you wouldn’t pass, “and Principal Higgins is watching us—so you should probably get to class.”
Eddie chances a glance to his left, realizing just how right you were. He looks back quickly, familiar smirk on your face as you pull away, reaching behind you to close your locker.
“Stay out of trouble?” You ask, tone soft and warm toward him.
“No promises,” He replies wearily, scratching at the side of his jaw, mindful of the eyes still watching you both, “everyone’s out to get me, remember?”
“You’ll stay out of trouble,” You assure him again, eyeing him briefly, eyes dragging from head to toe, “right?”
And he can see it in the look you give him, the salacious grin on your face. There would be consequences—or metaphorical consequences, not that he didn’t have a way to counter them, but he nods.
“Mhmm,” He agrees, nodding slightly. “Promise.”
But, promises didn’t always hold up and we’re bound to break at some point.
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And it’s no surprise when you find Eddie in after school detention with an even more shameful look on his face than earlier in the day, dragging his feet up to you in a leisurely manner as he wraps his arms over your shoulder, slung around you loosely.
“You never listen to me,” You complain with amusement, letting him press a light kiss into your hair, the smirk evident in his face even if you couldn’t see him. “Do you?”
Eddie thinks for a moment, briefly, “No.”
So, by later that night, it’s almost a constant back and forth, neither of you daring to break until Eddie gets his hands around your thighs, pulling you tight against him, burying himself even deeper.
“What was that?” He asks, a patronizing lilt in his voice, breath coming out in pants. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I can’t—“ You breath out, shoving his hands away weakly, “no more, Eddie, please.”
He’d already managed to make you come twice, quickly working his way into a third, his hips moving gingerly as he listened to you, though he was obviously enjoying your torture, his eyes lighting up at the feeling of your muscles twitching involuntarily under his touch, too weak to even raise yourself up onto your knees.
“Fuck—you really got a fuckin’ mouth on you when you like to think you’re in charge,” Eddie laughs slightly, “baby, that’s never the case.”
And even if that was true, you don’t really mind.
“Eddie,” You plead, hands shoved against his chest in an effort to push away slightly, “come on.”
“Do you really wanna stop?” Eddie teases, fingers slipping into the dip where your hips meet your pelvis and rocking your hips slowly, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as your mouth drops open, a broken gasp leaving your lips.
Your eyes are barely open, riddled with exhaustion and hanging on by a thread.
“Didn’t think so.” He comments off handedly, “Look at me.”
You shake your head petulantly, lids falling shut as you breathe deeply, savoring the deep penetrating feeling of Eddie inside of you, hitting the spot that made your entire body ache, skin feeling white hot.
Eddie slaps your thigh lightly, a gentle warning.
“Hey,” Eddie chides, “you can handle it, right?”
It’s the same tone you used on him early, only countered toward you. He knew exactly how to get under your skin.
“Shut up.” You pout, blunt nails digging into his chest.
Eddie grunts softly, tutting his tongue against his teeth.
“S’not as sweet when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”
Eddie drives his point even further with a sharp thrust of his hips, hands squeezing impossibly tight against your skin.
Your mouth falls open further, which Eddie mimics in a way that drives you mad, face contorting into a mix of frustration and yearning, begging him to give it up—whatever act he was playing or devious plan he had in the back of his mind.
But, Eddie was stubborn.
“I know you wanna say it,” Eddie tells you, “Say it—say my name, sweetheart.”
You sigh heavily, head tipping back, “Fuck—Eddie,” Eddie makes a quiet noise of approval, “Eddie—“
“See how perfect you sound when all you can think about is me,” Eddie seethes, grunting as the rate of thrusts grew faster, forcing you to fall forward, hands digging into the soft fabric of the pillow, “so drunk on my dick you can’t think of anything else.”
“I’ve got plenty of thoughts in my head.” You retort.
Eddie huffs a laugh, daring you to challenge him.
His hands grip your own, clasped between his warm palms, his hips suddenly unmoving.
“Do it yourself then,” He instructs, “yeah?”
But, your body was entirely too weak, hips aching from the stretch and muscles screaming protest—you just wanted to rest, have Eddie wrap his body around you and lull you to sleep, but instead you were here, reaping the consequences of getting under Eddie’s skin all day.
Your movements are slow, without any real rhythm, just a desperate grind of your hips, seeking the friction.
And it’s frustrating, face again furrowing in annoyance as you rocked your hips jerkily, eventually giving up, slight frown on your face.
“Say you’re sorry,” Eddie says, “for teasing me, making fun of me—“
“God, you’re unbelievable—“
Eddie makes a pointed face, eyebrow quirking in amusement.
The smug bastard. He didn’t care for an apology, he just wanted the satisfaction of seeing your crumble under his will.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” You say in exasperation, “but Eddie, I can’t—I really can’t take anymore—“
Eddie nods, pulling you down toward his chest and flipping you in one slow, fluid motion, bodies never disconnecting.
“That’s all I needed to hear,” He smiles, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, hurried kiss, hips moving quickly against you, his fingers finding your clit almost instantly and it’s all too overwhelming, body pliant to his touch but aching for release, “you still with me?”
You nod slightly, forcing your head deeper against the pillow, eyes shut in exhaustion as Eddie pressed himself against you, mouthing at random parts of your skin, delicate touches to remind you he was still there, his hand still an igniting pressure against your cunt, fingers working quickly over your swollen clit.
“Hey, eyes,” He nudges softly, squeezing at your thigh, “look at me, babe.”
You peek at him slightly, laughing at his righteous grin.
“Just one more,” He promises, his early words seeping back into your thoughts, “that’s it.”
And when it hits you, you don’t even have the energy to make a sound, mouth falling open as you grip at Eddie’s shoulder, bound to leave bruises from the tightness of it. He makes sure to carry you through until it’s all over, snapping his hips a few more times until it’s over for himself, having held out for longer than he’s used to—it’s guttural, the groan that escapes him, hands fisting in to the pillow beside your head to avoid squeezing you too hard.
“So, about those three minutes—“ You start lightly, attempting to wean Eddie back into consciousness.
“Had to prove a point,” Eddie explains through staggered huffs, “how’d I do?”
“Do I really need to answer that?” You ask profoundly, hair matted to your face from the sweat, chests touching with every breath you took.
“Just checking,” He chuckles, pressing a messy, closed mouth kiss over the tip of your nose, “gotta piss me off more often, sweetheart—this is pretty fun.”
“Fuck you.” You reply playfully, kicking him off weakly until he’s falling to his back on the mattress, “I can’t even feel my legs.”
Eddie disposes of the condom discreetly while you slowly slip your underwear back on, crawling back up the bed lazilyy until he’s flat on his stomach, hands reaching for the tender flesh of your thigh.
“Let me take care of you then,” Eddie smiles slightly, those his words are laced with dangerous undertone—it’s all teasing, but it earns a familiar look of warning his way, “I meant like, a massage or something. You know, not everything I say is dirty minded—“
You offer a pointed glance his way, seeing right through his bullshit.
“Okay, most of it is—but come on, let me.”
You sigh quietly, nodding in response.
His touches are just as gentle, if not more.
It’s a reminder of how well Eddie balanced all of it, the hard intensity of his exterior alongside the delicate personality woven on the inside—it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before, but it was everything you needed.
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Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
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thewulf · 2 months
Text
Echoes of the Past || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Sooo, i have such a 😩😩 Hotch x reader idea. What if they have been to school togheter (you can decide whatever age and school they were in) and they were madly in love with each other perhaps they were even dating!!... Read Rest Here
A/N: Okay, wrote this one a lil different. Let me know if you guys like it or not. Trying to mature/up my writing style! And thank you for the request!
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
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He was your first and truest love. It was the way his smile lit up the classroom of your first law school class at George Washington University that made you do a double take. The first words he mumbled to you all those years ago are etched into your memory. His eyes held yours for every single second of that very first conversation, making you realize that he was a very special person.
On your very first date with Aaron, you knew you would love him for a very, very long time. When he took your face in his hands and peppered kisses all over your blushing cheeks, it dawned on you that you did indeed love him. You fell for him hard and fast. He was the first man who made you realize that another human could possibly feel the same way you did about him. He was a marvel. An enigma. Aaron Hotchner stole your heart and never gave it back.
With him, it was the first time you could truly let your guard down. You could just be yourself unashamedly. He was the first man who truly saw you in your rawest form. It was the first time you felt loved. So loved, without a second trace of doubt. He loved you, and you loved him for four beautiful years.
But as they say, all beautiful things must come to an end, for isn’t that what makes them truly beautiful? Your last kiss with him was the first time you kissed someone while crying harder than you ever could have imagined. It was the first time you realized the tears would never cease to fall.
It was the first time that you understood that the man who made you the happiest in this world was also the man who brought you the most anguish.
He was your first love. The first time you held the metaphorical bow and let him pull back the arrow aimed square at your chest. Your first love was trusting him not to let go, trusting him to protect your heart.
Your first love was never thinking, nor expecting, him to let it go. But he did.
The loss of your first love was like watching the sunrise fade into the twilight, a gradual dimming of the light that once illuminated your world. It starts with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, a gnawing ache that refuses to be ignored.
At first, it was a distant whisper, a subtle shift in the air that hinted at the impending storm. You felt it in the way his laughter no longer reached your ears with the same warmth, in the way his touch left a hollow echo in your soul.
As the days passed, the void he left behind grew larger, swallowing you whole in its depths. It was a constant battle between holding on and letting go, between clinging to the memories like a lifeline and accepting the harsh reality of their absence.
Everywhere you turned, reminders of him lurked in the shadows, haunting your every thought and action. The places you once frequented together became battlegrounds of nostalgia, each familiar sight a painful reminder of what once was.
And then came the moment of reckoning, the realization that he was truly gone, never to return. It hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you gasping for breath. The tears came freely then, a torrential downpour that washed away the remnants of your shattered heart.
In the aftermath of first love's loss, there was a profound sense of emptiness that permeated every corner of your being. It was as if a part of you had been ripped away, leaving behind a gaping wound that refused to heal.
But amidst the pain and sorrow, there was also a glimmer of hope, a faint whisper of resilience that echoed in the depths of your soul. For in the darkness of loss, there lay the opportunity for growth, for transformation, for the rebirth of a heart that had been broken but not defeated.
And so, you picked up the pieces of your shattered dreams, one by one, and slowly but surely, you began to rebuild. For though first love may be lost, its memory lingered like a bittersweet melody, a testament to the beauty and the pain of loving with all your heart.
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The bustling streets of Washington D.C. hummed with the energy of a city in perpetual motion, a constant ebb and flow of life. Amidst the throngs of pedestrians, Aaron Hotchner navigated his way through the crowd, his mind heavy with the weight of his profession. As a seasoned agent with the BAU, his days were filled with the relentless pursuit of justice, often leading him far from the familiar streets of D.C.
It was amidst one such case, miles away from home, that the memories of you began to surface. You had been college sweethearts, your love a beacon of light in a world tinged with uncertainty. But as your careers diverged, your relationship faltered under the strain of distance and time.
The decision to part ways had been a painful one, a choice dictated by circumstance rather than desire. Aaron's commitment to his work with the BAU demanded his presence elsewhere, while you were on the brink of embarking on your career as a lawyer. It was a choice neither of you wanted to make, but one that fate had thrust upon you nonetheless.
And so, you said your goodbyes, your hearts heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfinished dreams. It was a wound that had never truly healed, a scar that lingered as a constant reminder of what could have been.
As Aaron returned to D.C., the memories of your shared past haunted him like ghosts from another lifetime. And then, amidst the chaos of a particularly grueling case, fate intervened, bringing him face to face with you once more.
You stand before him, a vision of grace and beauty amidst the chaos of your surroundings. Your eyes meet on the busy streets of D.C., and for a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still as you take in each other's presence.
"Y/N," Aaron breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smile, a bittersweet curve of your lips that speaks volumes of the years you have spent apart. "Aaron," you say softly, your voice laced with a mixture of emotions.
The air crackles with tension as you exchange hesitant glances, the weight of your shared history hanging heavy in the air.
"It's been too long," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Aaron nods, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggles to find the right words to say. "I never stopped thinking about you," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion.
And just like that, the floodgates open, words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up emotions and buried truths. You speak of the whispers of your long lost love, of the secrets that tore the two of you apart, of the regrets that haunted your dreams.
Over coffee, you expose your much more complex souls to each other, laying bare the scars of your past in hopes of finding solace in each other's arms once more. You reminisce about your college days, the late-night study sessions and impromptu road trips that had defined your relationship.
But amidst the laughter and shared memories, there is a lingering sadness, a sense of loss that hangs heavy in the air. For you both know that the reunion is bittersweet, a reminder of the years you have spent apart, the moments you can never reclaim. As the conversation progresses, you both find yourselves drawn deeper into the past, unraveling the tangled threads of your shared history.
"I still remember the first time we met," you say, your voice soft with nostalgia. "You walked into that classroom, and I couldn't take my eyes off you."
Aaron's gaze softens, memories flickering behind his eyes. "I was so nervous," he admits with a chuckle. "But the moment I saw you, everything just...clicked."
You share a smile, the weight of years melting away in the warmth of your reminiscence. It's as though time has folded in on itself, bringing you back to that moment when the world was full of endless possibilities.
"Do you ever wonder what might have been?" you ask, the question hanging between you like a fragile thread.
Aaron's expression grows somber, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Every day," he confesses, his voice barely a whisper. "I never stopped thinking about you, wondering if I made the right choice."
You reach across the table, your fingers brushing against his in a silent gesture of understanding. "We were young," you say softly. "We had our whole lives ahead of us, and we made the best choices we could at the time."
There's a heaviness in your words, a weight of regret and longing that threatens to pull you under. But beneath it all, there's also a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that refuses to be extinguished.
"We can't change the past," Aaron murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "But maybe...maybe we can learn from it."
The words hang in the air, pregnant with meaning. It's a fragile hope, born from the ashes of broken dreams and shattered promises. But it's also the only thing you have left to hold onto, the last vestige of a love that refuses to die.
And so, you lean into each other, seeking solace in the warmth of your shared embrace. In that moment, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city, you find a measure of peace, a fleeting glimpse of the happiness that once was and could be again.
The days that follow are a blur of stolen moments and whispered confessions. You walk hand in hand through the familiar streets of D.C., lost in your own little world of memories and dreams.
But among the joy of your reunion, there's also a sense of trepidation, a fear that history will repeat itself, tearing you apart once more. It's a shadow that lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a reminder of the fragility of your newfound happiness.
"I don't know if I can do this again, Aaron," you confess one evening, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
Aaron's gaze softens, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulls you close. "We'll take it one step at a time," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the ache in your heart. "Together."
And in that moment, as you stand together beneath the star-studded sky, you know that you are embarking on a journey far greater than anything you could have imagined. It's a journey filled with twists and turns, highs and lows, but above all, it's a journey you will navigate together, hand in hand, hearts entwined.
For who said first loves can't also turn out to be your forever love? You are determined to prove them wrong, to rewrite the story of your love in a way that defies all expectations. And together, hand in hand, hearts entwined, you know that anything is possible.
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Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y @kreepja
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djarincore · 3 months
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Down by the River pt. 2
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SUMMARY: Wyll accidentally finds you bathing in the river.
PAIRING: Wyll x reader
WORD COUNT: 1k
TAGS: slight hurt/comfort, fluff, nudity
A/N: another version of this fic but with Wyll I just love this trope sm I wanted to write it again LMAO
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The horns on Wyll's head weighed him down—both metaphorically and literally. The new, extra weight to balance made him uneasy on his legs, which earned him extra cuts and bruises in battle, as well as a singed ego.
He was only as good as his blade. And what good was The Blade of Frontiers if he couldn't even use his blade? Who could he protect if he was stumbling around and people feared his new appearance?
The sun had set long ago and his fellow companions were readying themselves for bed. It was the perfect time to slip away and lament over his new appearance in solitude.
He wandered through the forest aimlessly, ignoring how late the hour was getting. His path eventually led him towards the river where the sounds of water could wash away his thoughts.
Unfortunately for him, the time for quiet respite would have to wait.
As soon as he reached the river, he locked eyes with you, chest-deep in the water. Your eyes widened, but you remained frozen.
“Gods, I'm sorry,” he apologized, averting his gaze to the ground. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”
He didn't expect to see you here. Last he saw you, you were exchanging recipe ideas with Gale by the campfire. He hadn't realized he was gone from camp for so long.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “You didn't disturb me. I was just taking a dip—care to join?”
It certainly was tempting. Especially when the offer came from you.
“I won't bite,” you teased, smiling to show off your non-pointed teeth.
“No, unfortunately, that's Astarion’s job.”
The two of you shared a sly smile. Teasing the vampire spawn happened to be a favorite pastime the two of you shared.
Of course, it was all fun and games. Astarion would always come up with a quick quip to shut the two of you right up, something about how the two of you should put your mouths to better use on each other. That little comment always worked, sending you and Wyll in opposite directions to pretend to scout for supplies.
“So, are you coming in or are you going to leave poor, defenseless me here all alone?” You pouted, pressing both hands over your heart. Though you pretended to look like an innocent maiden, he knew your fighting prowess was a match for him. You could easily fend off whatever malice lurked in the forest, but he would play along.
“How can I say no when you put it like that?”
With a beaming smile, you covered your eyes but left a small sliver between your fingers open.
Wyll wouldn’t say he was a shy man, but to have you watching him made the moment feel too intimate. All at once he could feel his shirt brush over every ridge along his back as he lifted it over his head. And he was keenly aware of the fabric catching on his horns.
“What’s wrong?” Your hand had gone below the water again. Any amusement is replaced with concern.
He was aware of so much wrong with his new body that he failed to realize he was frowning. He tossed his shirt on a rock at the water's edge.
“It's just… me,” he said, like it was something so obvious. He looked like a monster—a devil. You and all your companions had to see it too.
Your brows furrowed and you reached out a hand above the water, droplets fell from your fingertips as you beckoned. “Come here.”
“I-” He swallowed. “Can you turn around?”
You nodded and turned, waiting for his okay. He shed the last of his clothing, leaving it all in a neat pile where his shirt was. He slipped into the river soon after, taking in a sharp breath when the cold waters bit his skin.
He wadded behind you. The water reached just below his pectorals.
“You can turn around now,” he said. He almost wanted to hold his breath. He felt more vulnerable now more than ever. So close to you and completely bare.
You turned and moved closer, hoping to catch his eye. “You know I don't see you any differently.”
He laughed bitterly, turning his head down. His reflection rippled in the water, obscuring any clear reflection. He was glad—he was afraid of seeing the devil looking back.
“I'm serious.” Your hand moved to cradle his jaw, tilting his head up. His eyes were still downcast, sullen, lost in his murky reflection. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“No, but-”
He just couldn't see it anymore—the hero he was, was now just a devil in the reflection.
“Can I kiss you?”
His gaze finally snapped up to yours, mouth falling agape. You wore a cheeky smile.
“A kiss? I-” He felt his cheeks begin to warm. “You want to kiss me?”
“Yes, I have for a while now,” you confessed.
His heart was beating wildly because he felt the exact same, if he was being honest.
The slight nod from his was all it took for you to lean in and meet his lips. He could taste the sweet mead from dinner still lingering on your lips.
“Oh, finally,” an exasperated voice spoke from the bushes.
You both jumped away from the kiss and looked to find Astarion pushing aside some foliage to step out into the clearing.
“What in the Hells are you doing here?” Wyll demanded.
“Looking for a snack, of course. I guess I ended up following the scent of two lovebirds instead.” His signature smirk pulling across his pale face.
“Oh, piss off, Astarion.” You rolled your eyes and splashed some water in his direction. There was no need to be embarrassed by his comments now that the two of you knew your feelings for one another.
The vampire turned with a haughty laugh and called over his shoulder, “Don't stay out too late, lovers, or I'll be telling everyone why the two of you are exhausted in the morning.”
When Astarion disappeared into the brush, you smirked. “Is it too late to stake him?”
“I think I saw a few decently sized pieces of wood on my way here.”
“Lead the way.”
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tea-and-vodka · 8 months
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DP x DC AU, Bruce/Danny (if someone knows the ship name *please tell me-*)
Side note: I'm using asterisks (*) to signify italics, because for some reason Tumblr is being annoying about those.
- - -
He never really told anyone about it. No one really remembered but him, Alfred, and the photos they had kept.
Bruce had a friend when he was younger, one who had lived on the streets before moving into the manor.
The two had been practically inseparable.
Yet, as they grew older, they knew that his friend needed to stay away from the cameras and stares that had started following Bruce like mosquitoes.
So, his friend left when they were in their late teenage years. They kept in contact of course, and the two visited. But when the youngest (at the time) Wayne began to get involved with less than legal activities in their twenties, he hid it from his friend.
The rate of their visits slowed down, until it came to a halt. They sent letters, of course, but seeing him in person meant danger. Potentially putting *him* in danger. And Bruce could not let that happen.
- - -
The Batkids all stare in varying levels of confusion, concern, and awe as Bruce becomes visibly flustered.
"Bruce, Darling, it is so nice to see you again!" The man, Danny, says, before kissing Bruce on the corners of his mouth. He holds the billionaire's face in his hands as he tilts his own head to the side, a soft and affectionate look on his face. "I have missed you and Alfred so much! How have you two been?"
Bruce stammers for a moment, not taking his eyes off of the taller man in front of him. "I've, um, been well, thank you. Uh-" He flicks his eyes over to his kids before returning them to Danny as he gestures to the gathered crowd in his entryway. "These are my children! Wo-would you like to meet them?" He blurts out quickly, a smile that he seemed to be desperately fighting on his face.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I want to meet them?" Danny says jovially, turning to the others.
As the man calmly walks over, Cass makes a few observations. His lithe, relatively short body not tense in the slightest, every step seeming purposeful yet not at all thought about, and his eyes flick over everyone in front of him like he's analyzing them. Seeing them like she sees people.
Still smiling, he opens his mouth to speak to all of them, when he freezes. The group tenses, watching as he doesn't take his eyes off of the second eldest brother as his smile falls.
With pain in his eyes, the older man simply breathes out an, "Oh."
Jason stared into Danny's eyes, something akin to grief beginning to show on his face.
"Oh, *Sweetheart.*" Danny said softly, stepping closer to the younger man. He carefully takes his face into one hand, holding him like he may break. "*I'm so sorry.*"
At that, Jason's face metaphorically crumples, tears spilling down his face as Danny feels his [*hurts tired scared angry tired hurts scared h e l p -*]. Danny's thumb rubs his cheek in an effort to soothe the young man, an understanding sadness on his face. In response, Jason lets out a small whimper as he tries to bury his face into the other's hand.
Gently, delicately, despite the sheer size of him, he pulls Jason close, practically curling around him like he's trying to shield him from the outside world. One hand rubs his back, the other curling into his hair as the Bat's face buries itself into his neck, muffling the sounds of sobbing. [*Safe together protect safe comfort soothe safe*]
As the Batfamily watched this happen, most were too caught off-guard and utterly dumbstruck to notice some unusual details.
Cass's eyes squint slightly in suspicion as Danny's toxic green ones close. Weren't those a nearly unnatural blue when she first saw him?
- - -
I'm sorry if this got repetitive; I don't usually beta anything I post!
Essentially, Danny senses Jason's ghostly-ness, and is like, "Who the heck hurt this baby?!" Immediately reaching out with the whole ghost-EM field-thing, Jason's whole world is flipped because he'd been subconsciously trying to reach out that way ever since he got back to Gotham, and had been getting increasingly distressed because no one was understanding what he was communicating.
A few years after he was brought into the manor, Danny had explained to Bruce and Alfred what he is, what happened in Amity Park, how he got deaged, etc., and they accepted him wholeheartedly. *Except*, he left out any and all mention of vigilantism / the bigger enemies that he fought, and went on to working on being the ghost king when he moved out. He doesn't know about the Batfam being the Bats and Birds, and they don't know about him being royalty, nor his vigilante past.
He and Bruce are both very intelligent dumbasses, and do not realize that they have romantic feelings for one another. Alfred is well aware. Is Bruce also dating someone else in this AU? Potentially! It is currently up to interpretation, since I have not thought about who would go well for this scenario. (Although, I do feel like Danny would have beef with Clark because of the whole Connor debacle. Maybe, behind the scenes, Danny adopted Connor, and now Danielle has a brother!)
Also, I'm tired of people being like, "Danny is short! He's only 5'7!" (/lh) It makes me feel short. In this, he is 5'4, and he does not care if this whole ass man is over six foot, he *will* do his best to curl around him and help him feel safe for the first time since he was a teen.
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gemini-sensei · 11 months
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Do you have any thoughts on the idea of a pregnant!omega!reader who’s in a poly relationship or a pack omega, who ends up being kinda shamed over the fact that she’s chubby and pregnant with “who knows” alpha’s pups? (Like the person makes it a big deal that reader has multiple alphas and is pregnant with one of theirs pups.)
Oh dear, who ever is shaming her better be prepared for what they're getting into because they're poking a huge metaphorical bear.
No matter how many partners omega!Reader has, those alphas are all fairly protective of her. Especially when she's pregnant with pups. So when she starts to bow her head and quietly rub her belly, when he scent muddles up and tinges with sadness, they know something is wrong. They surround her and nuzzle her, rubbing her belly and scenting her, kissing her sweetly on the head, cheek, neck, lips. Depending on how many partners she has, they all are trying everything to fulfill her needs.
One finally asks her "what's wrong?" and she pouts.
"It's dumb..."
Another alpha assures her that it isn't dumb and they all let her know, verbally or silently, thay she can tell them anything and won't think it's dumb. She's sitting on one alpha's lap while the others are cuddling her or each other. One had their head gently laid on her round belly and another is holding her hand.
"I don't know how to say it... I mean, is it wrong that I don't know who's pups I'm having? Shouldn't I know? Shouldn't I be able to tell people which of you got me pregnant? . . ."
There's a huge pause and the scent changes. All the alphas are trying to keep their cool, but slowly growing angrier by the second. They know someone has made their sweet, loving omega feel this way and they want to know who. But first-
"No, there's nothing wrong with that. We're a pack, we've all mated with you and we all knew thay only one of us was going to give you pups this time around. It's expected."
"And who cares who's pups they 'really are'? They're all our pups at the end of the day."
The assurances keep coming until one of the more hot-headed alphas finally ask, "who made you think our relationship is so bad?"
Whoever said something to Reader may want to watch their back because her alphas are out for them. From their on out, they're always with her, one or two or all at a time. If anyone has the balls to snicker or whisper or point at them, they gets really angry and dare them to say something them since they have such an issue with how their little/big pack works. The whole surrounding area is musked and smells of angry alpha if this is someone like Hawk or Tory.
Protective poly/pack alphas are ❤️‍🔥😏
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squash1 · 1 year
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currently obsessing over the dreamer trilogy being an extended metaphor for maggie’s chronic illness/chronic illness in general. maggie’s body was unable to make cortisol — a substance necessary for life. a lack of cortisol causes extreme fatigue — a clear parallel to a dreamer or dream being alseep because of a lack of ley energy. maggie got sick while writing the raven king and as a result she wasn’t able to create what she needed to. in greywaren, when the ley line shuts down, ronan is unable to create what he needs to. like maggie, ronan’s identity is centered around creating — it is the thing that sustains him (if he doesn’t create, the nightwash will kill him). ronan ends up literally stuck in his own brain, in this liminal space between being alive & human or being dead & otherworldly. he is aware that life is continuing — in fact there are many moments where ronan desperately wants to wake up, to come back to reality but cannot because without the ley line he cannot exist as he was. in many ways this is what having a chronic illness is like; it is watching life continue without you, an unwilling observer to all that you cannot have.
while looking back at the tdt dedications i reread the mister impossible dedication that says: “to the magicians who woke me from my thousand-year slumber.” to me this seems like a direct parallel between maggie’s illness and dreamers being asleep and ultimately the ability to wake from that sleep with help from other people. in greywaren, ronan finally wakes up after both choosing to exist not knowing what his life will look like, and after hennessy tattoos one of the strongest sweetmetals onto his arm. sweetmetals in this instance signify medication or treatment of some kind. sweetmetals are not a permanent fix. they do not last forever, they’re expensive and hard to acquire but they functionally match the ley line — the life force you are born with. in maggie’s case, she is woken from her sleep by doctors who are able to supplement what her body cannot produce.
what i find extremely interesting is the connection art/creating/dreaming has especially in the context of illness. it’s incredibly circular. sweetmetals are usually art pieces of some kind — they don’t have to be masterpieces, they just have to mean something to someone — and they are able to sustain dreams (or in ronan’s case a dreamer/dream). which means in a moment where ronan is not able to create, it is another person’s creation that saves him. when used as a metaphor for medicine/treatment you get this message of the interconnectedness of human lives; the way we all rely on one another for survival. maggie survives because there are people who have found treatments that work. ronan survives because someone created ink that functions as a sweetmental, and someone else stole it for him, and someone else decorated him with it for his protection. they give this to him so he can continue to live & create and hopefully help someone else with his creations, just like maggie is able to help all of us by continuing to write and create.
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months
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Jack Harlow: “I’m exhausted, and you’re not helping.”
You'd been walking on eggshells around Jack all week. Work was stressing him out, and his bad mood was seeping into every other area of his life and straining your relationship. It was like no matter what you did, or how understanding you tried to be, you felt like a burden to him. Your days went from all out fights, to snippy remarks here and there, to the silent treatment, and the only time you spoke was out of necessity.
You were sitting in the living room, trying to keep yourself busy, when Jack came stomping in, a metaphorical black cloud hanging over his head. You watched as he moved around the apartment, slamming doors and cabinets. You tried your hardest to ignore him, knowing that any word said would only start a fight, but whether you wanted to or not, the two of you were going to come to blows today.
"Where did you put my bag?" You could see how tense he was as he spoke to you, his teeth clenched together waiting for your response. "What bag?" You honestly had no idea what he was talking about. "My fuckin' bag", he mumbled under his breath, gesturing out the shape and size of the bag, but it was of no help.
"Jack, I have no idea what bag you're talking about. Besides, I didn't move any of your stuff." You stood, gathering your things and walked to the bedroom. You could feel Jack on your heels, the anger radiating off of his body. "You're always moving my shit, and now you're gonna tell me that you don't know where it is?"
"I'm not always moving your shit." You stripped your clothes off to take a shower, tossing your things in the laundry basket. It really wasn't worth getting into it with Jack right now. Anything that came out of his mouth was going to come from a place of hurt, and you were trying to protect both of your feelings. "Maybe check your closet. You always put your bags in there when you get back from a trip." You paused, his silence making you hopeful that he was going to back down.
"Don't you think I would know where the fuck I put my stuff?" Jack retorted with a huff. He just didn't know when to stop, and you weren't going to let him continue to treat you like this.
"What is going on with you, Jack? Talk to me please so I can help." You were trying to be kind, trying to get back your loving, kind boyfriend that you knew was hidden beneath all of this frustration. He glanced at you, and for a second you could see that he was desperate to tell you, let it all out, but something was blocking him.
"That's just it. I'm exhausted and you're not helping." He gritted out. "I'm getting hit from all angles all fuckin' day long, and then I come here and you're nagging me about dumb shit."
"I'm not nagging you. There's something going on with you, and I want you to feel better." You took a step toward him, but he jerked back.
"You wanna make me feel better?" You watched as his eyes darkened in front of you, and you knew there was no helping him right now. "I want you to get out of my way, and help me find my fuckin' bag!" You were wrong, there wasn't something blocking him, he was standing in his own damn way.
"Fine." You stormed into his closet, quickly finding the bag he was looking for in the same spot it always was.
"Here." You shoved it into his chest, making him stumble back. "Go find somewhere else to stay tonight." You walked into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you just as the tears started to fall. You pressed your back to the door, the wood a cool contrast to your burning skin.
"Babe." You heard a few soft knocks on the door, Jack on the other side. "Babe, I'm sorry."
You wanted to open the door, but you were really hurt, so you turned the shower on, silently crying to yourself as steam began to fill the room. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as you listened to the front door slam shut.
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