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wakandamama · 17 days ago

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Mail Call! A Letter of Lust!

I FINALLY POSTING A SINNERS FIC 😎

While on downtime during their tour in WW1, Smoke receives a special letter and care package from his woman back home.

Part 2: Mail Call! Returned to Sender

“Mail call!”

Smoke looks up from his game of solitaire to see his brother’s big grin as entered their unit’s tent. Stack struts in with a cheerful swagger to disrupt Smoke’s solitude. Stack plops the box into Smoke’s lap then whips out his pocket knife fancy spin and points it to a beige envelope thick with a long letter. The younger of the two raises an eyebrow in question, Smoke curling his hands into fists for a moment then lets them go, his pinkies are shaky so he nods.

“And where you been?” Smoke asks as Stack rips his letter open for him and hands it to his brother.

“Letting this thick yella-bone outta Marseille teach my dick French. Shoulda know all them snails they be eating would make they mouths that talented.” Stack quips, wagging his tongue in triumph.

Smoke rolls his eyes and warns “Don’t get burned out there brother.”

Smoke pulls out Annie’s letter from the envelope and watches with a rare smile as dried butterfly weed and lavender buds fall to his lap. He presses the letter to his nose and takes a deep smell of the plump colored lipstick mark at the top of the page, Smoke swears he can catch the whiff of black cherry Annie used in her lip stain. Smoke’s nose twitches in curiosity as a teal blue handkerchief flutters to his lap next, he quickly balls it into his hand and unfolds his two page letter.

“Aww shit, yo woman done sent you a bouquet." Stack teases, as he picks up some of the dried buds and sprinkles them over Smoke head.

“What did Annie say? She send word about Mary and Mama Munroe? She send some of them cinnamon candies again?” Stack harasses while he squeezes behind Smoke on the cot. Smoke puffs one of the orange petals off his lip as he uses his head to block the words. Stack reaches around to Smoke’s lap to grab the box and receives a swift elbow to the gut that sends him yelping and rolling off back off cot to the floor.

“Fuck you nigga!”

“Read yo’ own damn mail nigga!” Smoke scolds down at him. The older twin pointed a thumb to the small pile of little pink envelopes covered in smiley faces and kisses that Mary had sent Stack over the last 5 months.

“I’m tryna be nice and do ya favor bringin’ you ya mail, just to get assaulted in my own damn bunk!” Stack argues as he rolls up and pulls himself back to his feet.

“And thank ya… Now go be nosy somewhere else.” Smoke says, waving him off with his free hand. Stack kisses his teeth and makes a show of snatching all of Smoke’s playing cards, hustling out with a long laugh as Smoke cusses him out.

Alone again, Smoke carefully scoops all the flower petals back into the envelope and settles it in the front pocket of his pack. He settles the handkerchief on his chest and finally stretches out on his back in the bed to read Annie’s neat and loopy handwriting.

To my dearest Elijah,

My love, I’ve missed you terribly.

Mary done found a new hobby with that little bit of cash Stack sent her last week. She bought a camera! I think you’ll like the gift she helped me make for you with it. It’s in the box.

Before making her way back to Louisiana, my grandma was thorough in guiding me to make this latest batch of candy for you. It’s more of those orange and honey ones you like, but I did put a small bag of the cinnamon stuff in there for that fool Elias so he doesn't drive you too crazy.

However, if we are talking about crazy, then we have to talk about just how badly I’ve craved you Elijah.

Smoke shifts in his cot at the turn of tone in the letter. He lets his free hand drift to his waist band and rest right over the crotch. Just what in the world did his woman have to say?

Sometimes I think I miss ya hands the most. How them strong fingers of yours could, play my pussy like a fuck’n’ piano. Finding just the right key to tune me up every single time. You make me louder than a cicada in the heat of the day with just two fingers in there Elijah, that ain’t sane.

Or ya thick thumb in my mouth, putting the taste of my cunt on my tongue like lime after liquor. Can you still feel that slickness ya be draw outta me on yo’ hands Poppa? I’ve been trying to replicate just how yo do it, but it just ain’t right! Guess my fingers too short. Only you can reach in and fill me up how I need to be. How you know I need to be filled.

Smoke lets out a low whistle at her statements, he shakes his head in disbelief at the picture painted. It aches him thinking about Annie laid out in her bed edging herself wet and whiny in thought of him. He needs to get home and fix that.

Do you miss my hands too, baby? If ya do, just close yo’ eyes and ‘magine my hands back where they belong. You ‘member how I did it, right? I can’t just ever take it easy when it comes to handling that shaft of yours, I gotta get a whole handful of that beautiful thang before I can get started. I gotta feel the weight of you so that lusts fills my gut. Do ya miss when I’d trail up you, baby? Feel every vein on the column of you. How’d I point that dick up nice and high so I could take it down my throat?

I miss the feeling of you in my throat, Elijah.

Tasting you is my ambrosia, Poppa. Do me a favor? Hold that dick for me, baby. Treat it nice, just how I would.

I know you miss this pussy.

This pussy misses you, she’s still crying for you every night and it leaves me so achy Elijah. I wiped her up the best I could after just the memory of your lips on her with this scrap off my night slip.

Can you smell me?

“Fuck” Smoke hisses between his teeth. He palms his dick through his cargos, it is tight and hard, becoming slick at the tip at Annie’s written words. Smoke bites his lip in and glances at the door of the tent before checking his watch.

Only 2 hours until curfew. He could get it in.

Smoke presses the teal cloth to face, deeply inhaling and praying that the boat ride over didn’t deter the essence of Annie off it. Smoke groans, right there, a bit hidden by the dried florals is the musk of his woman. All bold and familiar, the scent of Annie’s pussy prompts Smoke to unzip and keep stroking. God he needs to get back home to her.

I liked my hands on you Elijah. Up and down. Up and down. Slow and steady so I could feel your pulse between my thumbs while I kissed up and down that dick of yours. I loved swirling the tip wit’ my tongue so I can taste every little drop of you on my tastebuds before I let you down my throat.

If I remember right? Ya like that little choke sound I’d make when ya dick would jump when I was coming back up. Right? You’re a fucking freak likin’ to choke your girl with that thickness. What if I spit Poppa? All that good nut leaking out my mouth before it can even get in me? Wasteful.

“Fuck, Ann.” Smoke groans lowly as he beats his dick just as Annie describes. Slow. Steady. Up. Down. Phantom touches of her soft hands make him jump. He remembers her pretty puffy lips swallowing all seven inches of him down the velvet of her throat in one swallow then how she would make it re-appear twitching, glistening with her spit. All done with only a whiny moan humming on his lap. Annie is magic like that.

He pictures that woman running the tip of her heavy and heavenly tongue right along the veins of his dick. Then that fucking tease of his, swirls the tip, pop off it with a loud kiss just to swallow him down again.

“Annie.” Smoke moans again, forcing the collar of his shirt into his mouth to muffle his moans as just the thought of Annie’s command made him uncontrollable. The slick sounds of his actions become louder and quicker.

Elijah please be careful with that dick, that’s mine. You are mine and I need my things to come back to me in perfect condition. Because Poppa…I need you to fill my coozs up from every angle. On any surface. Only you can satisfy that ache between my legs, only you can make me ache so good. You got the only thang that can make this cunt all hot and puffy. I know you like that shit, some soft pussy to thrust into, lay into, have bounce on ya.

You want this ass on you? I miss the smacks we’d make, I miss pushing all this weight against you and you putting it right back on me. You wanna get in me baby?

“Yesss.” Smoke moans out, half muffled as his head bobs back and he starts to thrust sloppily into his wet fist. He starts to crumble the cloth over his nose so he can breathe deep of her scent once more.

I moaned your name last night. Blessed it be I ain’t neighbors for a mile or they would know your whole government. Fuck being Smoke, fuck being Mr. Moore. They’d know Elijah. They’d know that this pussy is yours only, Poppa. They’d know I’m just some bitch in heat about you. Come home soon, so you can fill me up and I can have my body back.

Love you, always.

Annie Greenwood

Smoke drags the cloth down and presses it firmly over his mouth to mute his shouting grunt as he comes hard into his hand and drawls. He pants in more and more of Annie’s essence as he comes down from the high of his nut. After a few breaths, he lets himself go boneless in ecstasy and actually breathes air. Smoke didn’t know kinda magic had to be done, but he needed her in a dream tonight. Requiring it for his own mental stability at this point, he has already spent 40 days in hell with 369th Infantry in this European war, can’t a good soldier atleast get a wet dream of his woman?

Smoke can only catch his breath for another moment before hearing boots and hoots from the other making their way towards the barrack.

“Damn.” he hisses and swiftly sits up and places a pillow in his lap. He pretends he didn’t just make a mess in his drawls over Annie’s written words, instead making his hands busy with opening the gift box. It’s a group of four soldiers who just greet Smoke but mind their own busy with getting ready for bed.

Smoke opens the box and frowns at some black cord necklace, he recognizes that it was one of them mojo bags that Annie and her grandmother both wore. Annie had placed a slip of paper under it.

“Put this on, so you and ya brother come back safely to me.”

That was all the instruction. It ain’t say nothing about a prayer or any kinda ritual. Just put this on because I said so. And for Smoke, that was enough, believing in Annie was always enough.

Smoke chuckles softly, gives his shy grin and slips it on with a perfect fit. Annie was good at remembering the dimension of his neck after all, it was her favorite place to put her hands when she-

Smoke quickly shook off the thoughts before his dick got hard again and he’d have to try and sneak out for a cold shower with only 40 minutes to spare for curfew.

He settles the bag of orange honey drop into his pack, then tosses Stack’s cinnamon bullshit on his cot to the left of him. He finally gets to the bottom of the box and sees a photograph wrapped in tissue paper. He hums in intrigue as he unwraps it to find-

“You're a damn cheat Stack!”

“Learn to play dominos and then you can talk about cheating! You just made I took yo lil lunch money!” Stack banters back with one of the boys as they get ready to enter the tent. Just as they go in, Smoke is hustling out a change of lounge clothes and shower kit pressed to his crotch, the white-back of a photograph pressed to his chest and a look of flustered determination across his face. Stack frowns and grabs Smoke’s arm to stop him.

“Where the Hell you going?

“Shower.”

“But curfew is i-”

“I know when it is nigga! Worry boutcha self.” Smoke interrupts, shaking his brother’s hand off his arm. Smoke goes to march on but pauses long enough to make eye contact.

“Write Mary and tell her to throw that damn camera in a creek!”

#sinners #sinners 2025 #smoke moore #annie moore #smoke x annie #black girl reader #black culture #black movies #smut #love letters #is is sexting if it letters and the 1900's lol #long distance love #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer #stack moore #micheal b jordan #wunmi mosaku #I LOVE THIS MOVIE YO

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darkmatilda · 3 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it's time to return the second favor. and for that reason, spencer finds himself invited by you...on a date?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist!female reader, fake date at the bar, reader's ex makes an appearance, kinda inspired by blank space taylor swift

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.5 k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request

[unknown number] wake up pretty boy

[unknown number] time to pay your debt

Spencer, sitting on his bed with a book resting on his lap, stared at the message for a moment, his brows slightly furrowed. Evening, the warm glow of his lamp making it easy to read. He had the next day off, no real plans, just a quiet night ahead. The sudden chime of his phone had caught him off guard.

For a split second, he was surprised—but he didn’t have to think too hard to guess who the sender was.

He typed out how did you get my number, then deleted it before hitting send. Something else was far more interesting. And a little concerning. That second message. Pay your debt. She remembered about that now, at this hour?

Before he could ask, another text came in.

[unknown number] taking you on a date

[unknown number] dress nice

For a moment, deeply confused, he just stared at his phone, already sensing somewhere deep inside that this was going to be a really weird night.

[spencer] What do you mean by ‘date’?

A minute or two passed. He didn’t put his phone down. Didn’t even look away from the screen.

[unknown number] the one who asks questions loses his way

His fingers moved automatically.

[spencer] That’s not how the saying goes

✓ Seen 10:12 pm

Reid sighed. He had absolutely no plans to go out that evening, and he wasn’t thrilled about the fact that he hadn’t been given any details about this so-called date. Unless she was joking? There was something off about this—some kind of trick, a twist he hadn’t figured out yet.

The only thing stopping him from ignoring her messages—something he very much wanted to do—was the simple fact that he did owe her. Technically, twice. Though he had managed to repay one of those debts in an easy way, requiring almost no effort on his part.

He had a feeling this second one wouldn’t be nearly as simple.

And now he found himself wondering what exactly she meant by dress nicely.

"Wait, one more time. We’re going there as her… what?"

"Mental support," she said, moving forward with that usual quick stride of hers, the sharp tapping of her heels almost aggressive. Whether unconsciously or fully aware but not caring, she got a few steps ahead of him, speaking without turning back. Her voice hung in the night, street air.

Spencer hated when she did that. It made him feel like a dog on a leash. He sped up to match her pace.

"Well, I heard you," he scoffed. "Doesn’t mean I get what you mean. And maybe you should clue me in if I’m supposed to be part of…whatever this is”

She stopped with a sigh so heavy it was as if giving him any details about something he was supposed to be part of was beyond her patience and strength. Hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer, he gave her a questioning look as she finally turned to face him.

His gaze dropped—quick, casual. Or at least, that’s how he thought it looked. Even at night, under the less-than-ideal glow of the streetlights, he could register how her outfit hugged her figure, emphasizing every curve.

At work, she dressed more formally. With her looks, that face, and the unshakable confidence she carried, she could probably make a burlap sack look like a designer gown. But Spencer had noticed something about the way she dressed for nights like this. Or rather, the way she became something else entirely. Like she belonged to the night, completely in her element.

Quick, casual glance—yeah, right.

To make the situation even more embarrassing, she snapped her fingers in front of his face, demanding his attention.

"Alright, listen up," she started, shifting her weight onto one hip. "I’m explaining this one last time. My friend, Liv—you might know her from my team…"

"Olivia, you mean," He said her full name in confirmation, recognizing the woman he had indeed seen before.

"Do you really have to correct me on how I call my own friends? Anyway, fine. Olivia has a date tonight with some guy she met online. The thing is, Olivia is a hopeless romantic who’s waiting for the love of her life to magically show up at her door, but she’s also buried in work and can’t even remember the last time she went on a date. Plus, she’s a little worried about ending up with some psycho. You know what I mean."

"All too well," he nodded, recalling all the missing persons cases that had started exactly like this—an online match gone wrong.

“Exactly. So Olivia asked me to come along. You know, for physical backup if anything goes sideways. And mental backup. Just to make her feel safer."

Well, he didn’t want to praise her out loud, but it was…nice of her. Okay, nice wasn’t the perfect word—honestly, the fact that she even had to do something like this was a little bitter at its core—but it didn’t change the fact that she was being a good friend.

He watched her for a moment, not even realizing he had gone quiet. He realized he’d never actually seen her interact with her people, her team, but he had somehow assumed their dynamic was more… detached. Not that she genuinely considered them her friends and actually cared.

"Finally caught up, genius?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Spencer snapped out of it. Okay, so maybe she cared about her friends—but she was still seriously unbearable.

"I get it. Except for one thing," he replied, matching her slightly rude tone, one that made him sound almost offended. She raised a brow, nodded as if giving him permission to continue, and started walking again—this time at a slower pace.

Actually, they were moving at almost the same rhythm now, nearly side by side.

"Why do you need me for this?"

Their eyes met, but this time, she didn’t look like she was about to mock him. In fact, the corners of her lips lifted slightly, as if she thought that was a very good question.

"Because tonight, pretty boy, I plan to stay completely on the sidelines," she explained. "Not interfering with my friend or her date in any way. Being completely invisible."

"Invisible?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

It wasn’t even just about what she was wearing. Drawing attention was simply an unavoidable part of her presence. She nodded in confirmation.

"Exactly. But I figured that to keep away all the desperate guys trying to get my number, all I need to do is bring one with me," she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "You’re gonna be my scarecrow."

Spencer's mouth fell slightly open, completely at a loss for words.

"You…you are just… just…"

"Amazing, smart, beautiful, wonderful…"

"Shameless. That’s the word"

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression filled with a strange kind of complacency.

"Love when you compliment me," she said in an overly sweet tone.

"That wasn’t—" he started, but then cut himself off, realizing there was probably no point in arguing with her. He sighed.

"You’re welcome."

Despite the late hour, the bar wasn’t overcrowded. Sure, there were plenty of people inside, but most were engaged in quiet conversations over their drinks. Spencer noticed quite a few couples. As if they were one of them, they found a secluded spot in the corner, right next to a small pool table made of dark wood with a striking green surface.

"That’s them," the woman discreetly motioned with her head toward the pair at the bar— a cascade of blonde curls and the man accompanying her. She fixed them with an assessing gaze, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Hm. He looks like his pictures. I’ll take that as the first good sign."

"She shows you pictures of her dates?"

"Every single time. We rate them on a scale from one to ten."

Spencer wasn’t surprised in the slightest. His gaze briefly shifted in their direction, though he made sure not to stare, not wanting to make them look weird. The pair seemed to be talking a little shyly—it was obvious this was their first meeting.

“So,” he started. “Is this what we’re going to do all night? Just stand here?”

“Basically, yeah. I mean, we don’t have to just stand around like a couple of creeps, staring at them. We can enjoy our date. Just because it’s fake doesn’t mean it can’t be fun,” she said, slowly circling the pool table until they were on opposite sides.

She slipped off her outer layer, and Spencer couldn’t help but notice that her outfit underneath did anything but help her stay invisible. Reaching for a pool cue, she nodded at him.

“What are you waiting for?”

“You want to play?”

“No, I want to duel you with the cues,” she scoffed. “I’m a professional, you know.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow slightly as he grabbed a cue of his own.

"Professional?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mhm. World championships and all that. But that was a while ago. Then came the injury, and I had to say goodbye to my career. After that, I had no idea what to do with myself, so I became a chemist," she said, with a casual shrug.

He chuckled at the made-up story, setting the pool balls up into a perfect triangle at the center of the table. Once they were ready, he gestured for her to go ahead.

She refused with an exaggerated, almost overly generous smile. "Oh, no. Amateurs go first."

He held back a roll of his eyes, leaning over the table. The balls scattered across the surface, and from that point on, he'd play with the cue ball. It was her turn now, and Spencer watched her movements closely.

"I didn't know your story before the FBI job was so fascinating," he remarked, trying to throw her off a little.

They hadn't made any bet, but there was a subtle competitiveness in him now.

She shrugged.

"I don't think it's fascinating. More tragic. Lost dreams."

"Right, sorry for my disregard. What kind of injury was it?"

She paused for a moment, focusing on her next shot. One of the balls sank smoothly into a pocket, and a small smile played on her lips.

"Shoulder," she replied casually. "Sometimes it still acts up. I have to go for regular massages."

"Poor thing," he said, his tone teasing.

Her gaze briefly scanned the entire bar, landing once again on her friend. Nothing seemed to bother her, so she returned to the game.

"We're playing just for fun? Don't you think that's a bit boring?"

"Sorry, I don’t want to bet with you again. Paying off debts with you is never easy."

"Come on. You’re having fun with me”

"You think so?"

“No. I know it."

She potted another ball, gaining the upper hand. Spencer puffed his lips, deciding to focus more on the game. They both did, though it didn't stop them from continuously exchanging similar comments, remarks, and jabs. And despite the countless huffs and eye rolls, he had to admit, he was really having fun. With her.

And even more fun when he realized he was close to winning.

With a certain satisfaction, he noticed she was watching his moves with more attention, her eyes slightly narrowed with cool competition. As he leaned over the table again, she moved toward him lightly, almost as if tiptoeing. She passed by almost unnoticed. In fact, he only realized how close she was when her breath softly grazed the inside of his ear as she spoke in the voice of a social commentator.

"Ladies and gentlemen, to the surprise of the entire audience, amateur Spencer Reid has managed to take the lead," her whisper was laced with feigned suspense. Of course, he refrained from moving, making sure not to make a mistake from distraction. "Will he manage to win today's tournament?"

He straightened up with a sigh, which made her step back slightly. He gave her a look full of mock pity, and she responded by slowly blinking her eyes, imitating the gaze of an innocent angel.

"I'm pretty sure this counts as sabotage," he remarked.

She raised both hands in the air, as if defending herself against the accusation.

"Hey, I'm not doing anything," she denied, a subtle spark in her eye. She gave a quick nod toward the table. "Come on, finish it."

Spencer, uncertain and sensing she was up to something, tried to refocus. When he found the perfect angle and was about to hit the white ball, something nudged his elbow, causing it to roll in the completely wrong direction.

He directed a look at her, mouth open in indignation.

"This is... this is cheating, pure cheating..."

"No idea what you're talking about!" she shot back. She pretended to be serious, though in an incredibly clumsy way. Her lips kept trembling, trying to form a smile, and she struggled to suppress it. "I didn't do anything. Your hand must have slipped..."

At the sight of the expression on his face, she couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. It mixed with the sound of his incessantly muttered, mildly irritated comments under his breath, which absolutely didn't reach her conscience. In fact, it seemed to only make her feel more smug. Spencer finally gave in, letting out a sigh.

"I demand a fair rematch."

With her arms crossed over her chest, she raised an eyebrow.

"Go ahead, then," she said, grabbing the cue stick again.

Her friend and her date were still deep in conversation, sitting much closer than before, with small smiles on their faces. They didn't seem like they were in any hurry to end the evening. A few new people had arrived at the bar, making it louder, but Spencer didn't even notice. He was completely focused on this small, occupied space between them where they were slowly giving in to the growing rivalry, even though nothing had been wagered. It was probably just about pride.

His opponent was doing everything in her power to make his game harder. He'd abandoned all pretenses of fairness and stood right beside her whenever she leaned over the pool table. He didn't even intend to nudge her—but when he was close, she assumed he would and became incredibly cautious, often elbowing him in the ribs to make space for herself to focus. Despite all of this, they were laughing. He even forgot for a moment that he had planned to spend the evening entirely differently.

They played a few more rounds, each of them winning the same number of games. He announced the next one, but before starting, he briefly disappeared into the bathroom. Simply because, well, he needed to use it.

As he washed his hands, he could hear the hum of conversations, laughter, and music, all muffled by the door. It felt a bit warm, despite the fact that he'd taken off his jacket a while ago. For some reason, he suddenly became self-conscious about how he looked, though he hadn't thought about it at all before. After all, it wasn’t like he was on a date with some woman he was trying to impress. Still, driven by some inner impulse, he fixed his hair and smoothed the fabric of his shirt with his hands, rolling up the sleeves so they wouldn’t get wet while washing. He hesitated for a moment before lowering them again, surprised to sense someone's gaze on him.

The tall man with black hair, a rather sturdy build, and narrow glasses on his nose didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at him. Spencer wasn’t sure if he should just walk away, but something made him raise an eyebrow skeptically. He had no idea what was going on.

“Do we know each other?” he asked, genuinely considering the possibility.

He couldn’t recall this man from anywhere, which, given his memory, pretty much ruled out the idea.

“No,” the man replied briefly but confidently, still not breaking eye contact. After a moment, he added, “But I know your friend. I know her well.”

Reid stood still for a moment, embarrassingly slow to realize which friend the man was referring to. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that it struck him—this guy had likely been watching their game for a while and was talking about her. Before Spencer could say anything, the man continued.

“Actually, I used to date her. And listen, I’ve got some advice for you. Just give up on her.”

Spencer blinked, trying to process if he’d misheard.

“Beg your pardon...”

“I’m serious, man. Not because I’m jealous or anything like that,” he quickly clarified, raising both hands as if to declare his sincerity. “It’s just simple, you know, guy solidarity. Don’t waste your time.”

He was struck by a strange feeling that his conversation partner had some mistaken idea about their relationship. Besides, even though the man had clarified that he wasn’t jealous, he sure sounded like a jealous ex. Spencer knew he should just laugh it off and walk away. After all, he wasn’t dating her, didn’t intend to, and whatever the guy had to say about her shouldn’t matter. Yet, his legs refused to simply walk away.

Some curiosity, one he couldn’t shake off, took hold of him.

“What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.

A slight smirk appeared on the man’s face as he noticed he had Spencer’s attention.

“I get that you might see something in her. She’s pretty, you have to give her that. At first, even...kind of charming in her arrogance. But once you get to know her...it’s a strong word, but you need to know, she’s fucking insane.”

The language seemed to twist strangely in his mouth.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” he replied dryly. “I mean, anyone could mean something different by saying fucking insane.”

The man scoffed with a bit of contempt. Spencer was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

“Okay, you’re probably going to deny it and defend her because you like her, I’ve been there, I get it.”

Because I like her? He almost denied it but stopped himself, letting the man continue.

“She’s just insufferable in the long run. She acts like she knows everything, gives orders, always has to have the last damn word. And you know, at first, you think she’s just playing that part. And then she’ll start acting, well, you know…”

Spencer felt the urge to laugh.

“Submissive?” he suggested, the missing word that seemed to want to spill from the man’s mouth.

“Normally. Just normally.”

Something started to smell between them. A distinctive scent. Wounded male ego.

That alone was enough for Spencer to know not to take this conversation seriously. That alone was enough for him to know he could end this conversation whenever he wanted. But before he could take a single step away, he thought about the entire evening he'd spent with her. Everything, from the first message he’d received while still at his apartment.

He counted how many times during their meeting he’d just laughed, having more fun than he’d had in a while. In some unclear way, he felt he owed her that.

“Let me sum this up,” Spencer began, gesturing with his hand and never breaking eye contact with the man. “Because this, in its way, is strange to me. Funny, even, when you think about it.”

The man furrowed his brow, listening. Spencer remained unfazed as he continued.

“First, you met a commanding, confident, and, okay, a little cheeky woman. That didn’t scare you off, though, and you decided you wanted to start a relationship with her. And when it happened, you were surprised she was commanding and cheeky? You know, she doesn’t pretend she’s not like that. You knew what you were getting into.”

"Fine, you know what, this doesn’t make sense," the man sighed. "Do whatever you want. Just remember, I warned you. One day, you’ll be grateful for this."

"Maybe you're right," Spencer admitted, nodding slowly. "It doesn’t make sense."

The man gave him one last look before scoffing and walking away. Reid was left in the bathroom alone, actually reflecting for a moment on the entire conversation. He didn’t think he should have been a part of it at all. The guy must’ve assumed he was interested, or that they were dating. He didn’t have any insight into what their relationship really looked like. In any case, Spencer imagined what it would be like if another guy were in his place. Her actual date. I wonder if a conversation like that would make him turn away, push him away entirely.

After a moment, he concluded that no, it probably wouldn't have. Assuming, of course, that the other guy wasn’t a complete idiot, blindly believing the words of a hurt, maybe even a little jealous ex.

Though, maybe he couldn’t really judge from his position. The position of someone who wasn’t planning on dating her, and who wasn’t interested in her in that way.

He thought for a moment about whether he should tell her about the conversation. He decided against it, not wanting to spoil or ruin the good mood of their evening. Instead, he straightened his hair and, completely unfazed by what he'd just heard, returned to the pool table where she was leaning, clearly growing impatient with his prolonged absence.

"Finally," she hissed at the sight of him. She almost shoved the cue stick into his hand, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "I thought you were trying to escape me. The thought of another loss scared you, huh?"

He paused for a moment, staring at her face—the slightly parted lips, the warm bar light reflecting in her eyes, and the familiar, confident gleam. For a brief moment, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—what did she even see in that guy?

But almost immediately, he dismissed it, considering it none of his business, and took the cue stick from her, ready to start the next game.

#diva reader ♱#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spence reid #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x y/n

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deatheaterv · 6 months ago

Note

Could you please write an imagine where reader is sick and Snape notices she hasn’t been at the great hall and not teaching her classes and goes to check up on her and ends up taking care of her? P.s i love your work ❤️

UNDER HIS WATCH

hello sender! glad to know that you liked it.

pairing : prof!severus snape x fem!prof!reader

genre : fluff

summary : as in the request

it was a quiet morning in hogwarts. the usual bustle in the hallways had lessened, the students busy with their own affairs, but severus snape couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. there was a subtle, uncomfortable silence to the castle that he couldn’t ignore. he knew something wasn’t right when he hadn’t seen you at breakfast, nor had you been at your usual spot at the staff table for lunch.

the thought had been gnawing at him for hours, but he only allowed himself to think of it now as he walked the hallways toward your office.

he found your door slightly ajar, and a soft knock on the wood before he entered revealed the dimly lit room. there you were, curled up on your desk, a blanket hastily thrown over you, your face pale with exhaustion.

“y/n,” he called softly, taking a step closer. his voice, though not showing concern outright, had an underlying edge of it. “you’ve been absent for your classes and meals. what’s going on?”

you stirred slowly, blinking groggily as you tried to push yourself up. "severus," you muttered, voice weak but carrying a hint of irritation, “i’m just... i’m not feeling well.”

he studied you carefully, noting the flushed cheeks and the faint sheen of sweat on your brow. despite yourself, you were trying to sit up straighter, to appear less vulnerable. but he could see the truth beneath the facade, and it made something stir inside him. something he couldn’t quite identify, but it didn’t feel as distant or cold as he’d expected.

“you should be in bed,” he said firmly, though the sharpness of his usual tone was dulled by concern. “come. i’ll take you there.”

you blinked, still not fully awake, but your stubbornness pushed you to protest weakly. “i’m fine, really. i don’t need anyone to babysit me.”

his eyes narrowed, but there was a slight twitch of his mouth as if he found your words mildly amusing. “if you were fine, you wouldn’t be bedridden and avoiding your duties, now would you?” he muttered, his voice softer than before, almost thoughtful.

with one swift motion, he moved to your side, lifting you with ease, despite the resistance you gave. you weren’t particularly heavy, but the way he carried you spoke of a quiet care. it wasn’t often that anyone saw snape display such gentleness.

he helped you to your bed, settling you in under the covers with a quiet insistence. “rest. i’ll deal with the mess you’ve left behind,” he said, though the words weren’t unkind. there was something almost tender in the way he tucked the blanket around you.

“you don’t have to stay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, the exhaustion taking its toll. “it’s just a cold.”

“you’re not that lucky,” he replied dryly. “and if you try to get up and go to class again, i’ll be forced to lock you in here.”

you blinked at him, the exhaustion weighing on you so much that it took a moment for his words to register. when they did, you couldn’t help the tired smile that tugged at your lips. “you’re really bad at taking care of people, aren’t you?”

snape only gave a small shrug, his posture stiff as usual, though his eyes held something soft. “i know exactly what to do for you,” he replied quietly, his tone calm. “you’re going to rest. and you’re going to drink this.” he held out a small vial of potion in his hand, the usual green liquid swirling inside.

you gave him a curious look. “what’s that?”

“peppermint tea, mixed with a touch of the healing draught,” he replied simply. “it will help with the fever and the congestion.”

you gave a tired sigh but accepted the potion with a small nod. “thank you, severus,” you murmured quietly, feeling the warmth of the liquid slip down your throat and comfort you in a way you hadn’t expected.

he stood there for a moment longer, his arms crossed as he observed you. there was something almost possessive in the way he watched you, but it was subtle, like a protective shield he hadn’t known he’d formed. “you’re welcome,” he said after a beat, his voice still firm but with a hint of something more. “get some rest. and no arguing.”

you nodded, already feeling the drowsiness take over. as your eyelids fluttered closed, the last thing you felt was the warmth of the blanket around you and the steady presence of him nearby, something quiet but comforting in the air.

snape lingered in the room, watching over you in silence, ensuring that nothing would disturb you as you finally let yourself rest. for once, he didn’t mind the stillness of the moment. it was rare, but somehow, it felt right.

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cerinslair · 2 years ago

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Oath of the Courier

A paladin subclass for 5e

Liberty. Reason. Justice. Civility. Edification. Perfection.

MAIL.

Tenets of the Courier

The Tenets of the Courier embody a paladin's commitment to delivering the mail with utmost integrity and professionalism.

Handle with Care: Treat anything entrusted to you as preciously as you would your own possessions.

Discrete Delivery: When others confide in you, do not betray their trust. Let none but the intended recipient pry upon what you carry.

Swift Postage: Do your best to fulfill your promises as promptly as possible. Punctuality is a virtue.

To the Letter: Strive to fulfill your oaths exactly as you pledged them. Your word is your promise.

Oath Spells

You gain oath spells at the paladin levels listed.

3rd Level: Expeditious Retreat, Illusory Script 5th Level: Animal Messenger, Arcane Lock 9th Level: Sending, Tongues 13th Level: Legally Distinct Secret Chest, Freedom of Movement 17th Level: Dream, Teleportation Circle

Channel Divinity

When you choose this Oath at 3rd-level, you gain the following two Channel Divinity options:

Postage Stamp: As an action, you mark an object with a magical postage stamp. When creating this stamp, you choose a creature you or an adjacent ally are familiar with to be the object's recipient. This stamp persists for a number of hours equal to twice your paladin level, until the stamped object is delivered to its chosen recipient, or it is dismissed as a bonus action. While holding the stamped object, you can spend an action to magically detect what direction its recipient is in, and approximately how far away they are from you. If the recipient does not want to be located by you, it can make a Wisdom Saving Throw to elude this detection. If you are relying on an ally's familiarity, they get Advantage on this save. If they succeed, they are immune to this effect for 24 hours. You may only have one magical stamp at a time. If you place another, the previous one is immediately dismissed.

This Side Up: As an action, you can use your Channel Divinity to ward a creature or object against toppling. One creature or object within 10 feet becomes immune to the Prone condition. If the target is an object, it must be light enough for you to carry. If the target is an object, it gains Resistance to bludgeoning, force, and thunder damage. If the warded creature or object falls, it may ignore the first 10' of the fall when determining fall damage. These effects last for a number of minutes equal to your Charisma score, minimum 3.

Aura of Determination

Neither rain nor sleet nor hail will stop your delivery of the mail. Starting at 7th level, you emit an Aura of Determination. You and allies within 10' cannot have their speed reduced to less than their base speed when walking, crawling, jumping, or flying. This includes anything that would halve movement, such as Difficult Terrain or Exhaustion; or impose any other fraction-based penalty to speed. You cannot grant any of these effects while you are unconscious.

At 18th level, the range of this aura increases to 30 feet.

Return to Sender

Starting at 15th level, if you are targeted by a spell that targets only you, you may use your Reaction to instead have the spell target its caster. Use the original caster's Spell Save DC, Spell Attack Bonus, and Spellcasting Ability where applicable. If the spell required a Spell Attack Roll, re-roll the attack versus the caster. Once you use this ability, you must finish a short or long rest before you can use it again.

Pen Pal

At 20th level, you can assume the form of a celestial courier. Using your action, you undergo a transformation that grants you the following benefits for 1 hour:

Wings sprout from your back and grant you a flying speed of 60 feet.

Allies who begin their turn within 30' of you gain a 10' bonus to their speed that turn.

Add your Charisma bonus to your Initiative Rolls.

Once you use this feature, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest.

Go forth, swift and trustworthy courier! You are the glue that holds society together!

#D&D #dungeons and dragons #homebrew #paladin #5e #Oath of the Courier #cerinsposts

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 months ago

Text

➤ [ 𝙿𝙸𝙽 ] 𝙰𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚗

A/n: He's so fine

[ PIN ] ; the sender pins the receiver against the wall.

Warnings: p in v, cream pie , wall sex , public sex , quickie.

Ara lath:My love

‘Ma’sal’shiral:My life

The battle was over. Helm’s Deep stood, bloodied but unbroken. Yet in Aragorn’s heart, there was only one thing that mattered.

you.

He found you in the stone corridors of the fortress, your hair damp from rain and battle, armor scratched but your ethereal beauty undimmed. The moment your eyes locked with his, everything else fell away—the corpses, the cries, even the dawn’s cold wind.

“Ara lath…” you whispered, voice trembling from exhaustion and emotion.

He didn’t answer.

He ran

He took you.

Your back hit the cold stone wall with a gasp, his body pressed to yours, armor clinking as his hands tore off his gloves. His mouth crashed into yours, rough, desperate, starved. You responded in kind, fingers threading through his tangled hair as your lips molded together, teeth clashing in a kiss that said I thought I’d lost you.

His body was trembling against yours, hands shaking as if he was grounding himself to hold you.

“Never—” he growled against your neck, voice hoarse and low as he shoved up your tunic, fingers sliding along your bare thighs. “—leave my sight again.”

“I didn’t,” you breathed, helping him tug aside your underclothes, hips arching toward his rough touch. “You just ran too fast.” Your voice holding a teasing edge as Aragon looked up at you.

His teeth grazed your pointed ear, and a low, dark chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Then I’ll make sure you stay close.”

In one swift motion, he undid his belt and freed himself, hissing as the head of his cock rubbed against your soaked folds. “You’re already ready for me…”

You sunk your lip into your lip, hands clutching his shoulder as a small whimper left your lips.“For you, always,” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist as your head rested against the stone.

He drove into you with one deep, punishing thrust.

The air rushed from your lungs, your nails biting into leather as he buried himself fully, the stretch brutal and perfect. He didn’t give you time to adjust, he couldn’t, the need to feel you, to claim you after nearly losing you, was too great.

Because after that battle, he realized losing you became all too real.

Your body shook with each thrust and part of you swore that the wall would crumble if he was not holding you. Your moans bounced off the stone, swallowed by the fortress, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. “Aragorn—Ara lath—harder—”

He growled and obeyed, pounding into you with wild need, one hand gripping your thigh, the other fisting in your hair to keep you locked to him.

“I thought I’d die without telling you I loved you,” he rasped. “I won’t let that happen again.”

You gasped, head falling back. “Then make me yours again… make me feel it…”

He captured your lips once more, brutal and searing, his cock plunging deep and fast, filling you with every thrust. You shattered around him with a cry, your body clenching tight. He grunted, slammed in once, twice more—and then came with a low, broken moan against your throat, spilling inside you, burying himself as deep as he could.

You clung to each other in the aftermath, your sweat mingling, foreheads pressed together.

“I will never leave your side again,” he swore, voice shaking.

You smiled weakly. “Good. Because I don’t think I can walk.”

He laughed against your lips, breathless and full of love, before kissing you once more—softly this time.

“Then I’ll carry you, Ma’sal’shiral. Always.”

#aragorn x reader #drabbles #drabble #smut #aragorn son of arathorn #aragorn x you #aragorn x y/n #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #lotr smut #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings smut #lord of the rings x you

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bassettmemes · 9 months ago

Text

YEAH, I'M A MILF... (MAN, I LOVE FALL!) ↳ a collection of fall prompts.

"don't you just love when the leaves change colors?"

"ew, pumpkin guts! don't touch me with your slimy hands!"

"do you know where i put the nutmeg?"

"cider or hot chocolate? or both?"

"you look so cute in your scarf and hat!"

"if i slip on another wet leaf, i'll scream."

"we could just stay in, you know... can we please stay in?"

"it's just going to get colder. we should enjoy the warmth while we can."

"oh, come on! it's just a haunted house; it'll be fun."

"is this what taylor swift meant by sad girl autumn?"

SEND AN EMOJI FOR:

[🍂] for our muses to rake leaves and jump into the pile together

[🍁] for our muses to go harvest maple

[🍠] for our muses to spend thanksgiving together

[🎃] for our muses to carve jack-o-lanterns together

[🔥] for our muses to sit together at a bonfire

[🥧] for our muses to bake fall treats together

[🧣] sender gives receiver their scarf on a windy day (send 🔀 to reverse)

[🍎] for our muses to go to an apple orchard together

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itstheghostofmypast · 1 year ago

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Wins & Losses

Idol Seonghwa x (F)Reader

Summary: It wasn't fair. Just because you loved someone didn't mean you let them win- but did that justify cheating?

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 631

Warnings: None

Est.Read Time: 3 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Ratings: PG-13

Banner: @cafekitsune

"If she doesn't love you after she sees your LEGO sets, she's not the one." The younger man huffed, readjusting his beanie as he flopped down next to the man who was spam-texting someone, chewing on his lower lip as his thumbs hovered over the screen for a moment, when he saw the familiar three dots appear.

"That's not why she's upset." He mumbled, letting out a sigh in defeat when the sender stopped typing.

"She's got you smitten."

The two looked up at the man standing there in a pink apron, holding up a spatula - this was going to be good - snapping his fingers, he pointed at the eldest, "She's got you on your knees, look at you, ready to apologise for your nerdy hobbies so she doesn't leave you."

"Again," Seonghwa rolled his eyes before going back to typing, "That's not why she's upset."

"Are you over compensating-"

"SHE'S MAD BECAUSE I CAN BUILD SETS FASTER THAN HER, OKAY!"

The two looked at each other before looking at the man who looked like he was about to explode, "It's not my fault I have years of experience, this is a skill that is learnt over time with patience and gratitude, you can't rush through it like a chore!"

"I wouldn't be surprised if she leaves you, you goddamn nerd!" Mingi exasperated before going back to the kitchen, mumbling on about how there aren't any good men left these days, no wonder Seonghwa's lover wanted to dump him- mind you she did not.

"Hyung...why don't you...let her win?" San asked meekly, knowing the reaction might not be good, especially when the silky haired man carded his fingers through his locks, turning to the feline featured man with his chest all puffed out and ready to let out a dragon like roar.

"Listen here you -"

Ding-Dong

"I'LL GET IT!" Running for his life he opened the door, letting out a breath of relief when he looked down to meet a determined gaze, a small smile gracing his lips, when he noticed a bag in her hand, "He's in the living room."

"Thank you." She mumbled, marching past the man to her own idiot, as she walked into the living room and glared at the man who peered at her through his glasses.

Tossing the bag on the couch between them, he glanced at the bag before peaking in and raising a brow at the multiple LEGO sets inside, then looking back at her.

"No headbands, no tank tops and no glasses." She announced, discreetly listing the reasons why she lost the last time- sure his hands where bigger too and he had longer fingers that were swift in movement and so pretty to stare at- she was destined to lose everytime, wasn't she?

"Deal."

With that, he stood up, hooked a finger in the loop of the plastic bag while clasping his free hand in hers, leading her to his room, knowing that this time he'd actually lose, because all those things that he was told not to do, were his winning tactics, otherwise he'd end up getting lost in her eyes, adoring the expressions she was making, the way she'd be radiating an aura of determination.

Truth be told, he did all he could to distract her in the last seven rounds, even went as far as opting for a steamy makeout session, just to leave her dazed, disoriented and distracted enough to catch up on his set and eventually win.

As he closed to door he sighed, turning to look at her with a big pout, his boba eyed cute face to earn her favour as he mumbled, "If I ask nicely would you let me win?"

"Did you let me win the last time?"

"I thought my girl would be the bigger person."

"Should've thought of that before smearing my lipstick you cheap cheater."

A bubble of laughter ripped through his chest as he walked towards her, arms wrapping around her waist, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, "What can I say? I just wanted the winning prize so bad."

"Oh?" She snorted, arms wrapped around his neck, twirling a lock of his soft hair between her fingers, gazing up at him as he moved closer, pressing his forehead against hers, "What's the winning prize?"

"You."

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a

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notapradagurl7 · 5 months ago

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Hooked On You. Part Two.

Black OC! x Woody McClain as "Cane Tejada" from Power Book II: Ghost.

Summary: Deja was the second child of the Pierce family, sandwiched between her older sister, Diamond, and her younger sister, Destiny. The Pierces were renowned in their ways for their business in the drug cartel, with Deja's parents, Dana and Divine, at the center. Until she becomes hooked on Cane Tejada, her rival.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @siqueth @angelsdiaury

@kenshisluvrgirl @kindofaintrovert

@kumkaniudaku @beenathembo

@satoruya @henneseyhoe @sageispunk @hxneyclouds

@playgurlxoxo @planetblaque

@blackmissfrizzle @blackerthings @blackgrlmagic @xblackreader @blackelysian @mayorsavagelit @phomoe @niordollie @soufcakmistress @tvchi

@westside-rot @mama-2001 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ovohanna24 @blowmymbackout @soft-persephone

————

"Deja! Diamond! Destiny! Wake up!"

She stirred from her slumber, her eyes fluttering open to the sunlight peeking through the blinds with her body rustling in the light green bed sheets from the voice of her mother, no choice but Deja rubbed her eyes and sat up, yawning. She looked around her room, taking in the familiar surroundings. Her walls were painted a soft lavender, decorated with posters of her favorite artists and pictures of her friends and family scattered around. Her desk was cluttered with perfume and a makeup kit, nasty memories of last night with Cane.

She glanced at her phone on the nightstand, seeing that it was already 9am. She had planned to sleep in on this lazy Sunday, but her mother had other plans.

Deja stretched and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet touching the soft carpet. She stood up, feeling slightly groggy but knowing she had to start her day.

The siblings walked into the kitchen, where their mother was already cooking breakfast. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the room.

Deja and her siblings shuffled out of their bedrooms and into the kitchen. Yawns escaped their lips as they stretched their limbs, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Destiny, her head resting on Diamond's shoulder, asked their mother, "Mama, where are we going?"

"Tonight's big event calls for a shopping spree, and we've been invited as a powerful family. However, the Tejadas are also on the guest list, so it's important for us to keep your distance and keep your head on swivel ladies okay? Let's make sure we're prepared." Dana cautioned with a serious tone.

"Bring it on! I dare them to fuck with us!" Destiny declared with a fierce look in her eyes. With a swift motion, she unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks into the air, In a burst of energy, she delivered a powerful kick to the nearby chair, shattering it into pieces against the wall.

"Destiny Marie Pierce, what did we say about doing martial arts in the kitchen?" Their Mom scolded with a head tilt.

"Only do martial arts when you feel threatened or in danger or need to defend yourself.." Destiny repeated, reciting her mother's words.

She felt the familiar vibrations in her pocket, she fished out her phone to see two new messages awaiting her attention. With a quick glance, her eyes widened at the senders - one from her boyfriend Romeo and the other from Cane.

Romeo. 😒

I'm coming by to the big town event tonight, love you.❤️😌

Cane. 🥷🏾🖤

I'll see you tonight right?😏

"Shit." Deja mentally cursing, she swiftly returned the device to her pocket, wary of any prying eyes, especially those of her nosy sisters.

She smacked her lips in irritation with her head shaking slowly, either this night will be worst or nasty.

♡♥︎♡

"We are proud to welcome the Tejada family and Pierce family at this event, take your time to eat, visit the mansion behind you and relax." The Mayor announced, smiling to the crowd.

Following the introduction, people separated into smaller groups with the magnificent mansion looming in the background underneath the lush, green grass. The landscape was breathtaking, adorned with a few majestic trees, a serene koi fish river on both sides of the bridge, and a rustic brown flat bridge that led to the mansion's back door. The lantern lights illuminated both sides of the bridge, casting a radiant glow on the surroundings.

Deja's ginger box braids were tied back neatly in a ponytail, drawing attention to her jet-black long-sleeved turtle neck. The knee-length black skirt and matching cardigan pooled her figure, while the black Converse adorned her feet. Clear lip gloss adorned her lips and a gold necklace with her first initial 'D.' hung around her neck. Completing her outfit was her Louis Vuitton purse, held gracefully in her hands.

The only plan she made in the back of her mind was to avoid Cane as much as possible, she knew he was going to catch up but when Romeo was around her, Cane was lingering in her mind.

"What's up, baby?" Romeo greeted her, kissing her cheek, wrapping his arms around her waist lovingly, "You good?" The mocha brown-skinned male with his brown eyes, asked his girlfriend, confusion etched on his face.

"Hey Romeo, I'm fine. Let's head into the mansion, I want to explore the place." she lied, masking her true emotions with a forced smile, while trying to avoid Cane's piercing gaze. Taking hold of Romeo's hand, she led him towards the bridge that lead to the back door of the house.

Cane rolled his eyes at Romeo, her boyfriend wasn't a threat to him because he knew he could kill him in a second and wouldn't try anything. "What's up baby? Bitch ass nigga." He mocked him under his breath.

He turned shifted his attention toward Monet. She gave him a glare. "What?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders as if she didn't know what he was up to something.

Monet's hand landed on his shoulder with a firm grip as she shot him a serious look. "Listen to me carefully Cane," She warned. "Stay the hell away from Deja. We don't fuck with them, got it?" Her finger pointed towards Deja and Romeo, who walking away. The tone of her voice wasn't enough to make him listen.

"Got it."

♡♥︎♡

Deja and Romeo stepped into the mansion from the back door, the living room was huge with a high ceiling and a grand fireplace in the center. The furniture looked antique and expensive. Deja felt a sense of relief and uneasiness wash over her. Romeo pulled her onto his lap with his hand, "Are you sure you're okay?" he pecked her cheek.

Deja quickly rose from his lap, "I told you a billion times that I'm okay—" She was cut off by Cane walking from the back door, closing and locking the door behind him while Romeo stood in front of her, an evil grin spread across his face.

"So this is your boyfriend right Deja?" Cane grinned evilly, stepping closer to them.

"What the fuck do you want Cane, leave me and my girl alone." Romeo snapped, his eyes tightening at him.

"She's not your girl when she's screaming my name, when I'm fucking her right and I bet Deja forgets your name too."

The man narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything and shot a dirty look at Deja, "Is this true? You've been cheating on me with this nigga?" Romeo asked her, waving his hands in disbelief.

"Yes, there I said it but Romeo you're not that good in bed—" Deja was cut off by Cane.

Cane let out a disapproving tsk as he advanced towards Romeo, his fist landing heavily on the younger man's cheek, staining the cream carpet with blood. He followed up the attack with a forceful blow to Romeo's stomach, causing him to crumple to the ground. Deja rolled her eyes in irritation as Cane continued his assault, kicking Romeo in the face. "Bitch ass nigga, she's mine," Cane snarled possessively.

"Fuck the both of you.." Romeo limped out of the mansion and closed the door behind him.

"Cane you can't—" but Cane's hand swiftly gripped her neck, pulling her into a passionate kiss. Their tongues entwined, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as they exchanged saliva in an intimate manner. Deja's hands gently caressed Cane's face as she let out a soft moan, lost in the moment.

♡♥︎♡

He lifted his Deja up by her thighs, her naked back pressed firmly against the wall, with her arms wrapped tight around his neck. Her legs were wrapped around his slim torso, and Cane positioned himself in between her legs. His intense gaze was locked on hers, as his dick slowly slipped in between her folds, inch by inch, her wet walls gripping around him. He groaned raspily as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. "I love this pussy." He groaned, trailing wet kisses along the curve of her neck. Her response was immediate, "I love this dick." His slim hips bucked into her at a rough yet fast pace, her back arching.

Deja moaned loudly, her fingernails digging into Cane's shoulders as he continued to thrust into her with increasing speed and force. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as he hit every sweet spot inside of her.

The doorknob suddenly jiggled while she felt her climax arriving along with Cane thrusting faster to catch up to his own release, "Shit! I'm cummin—" before she could say anything, Cane covered her mouth with his hand as his thrusts grew sloppy and slow, her moans vibrated on the palm of his hand, "Ah shit! I'm right behind you baby..." he groaned lowly, she cried out through her mouth as it crashed over her in waves, she came undone on his dick while her body convulsed in ecstasy. In return, Cane spilled his warm seed deep inside of her as he groaned her name, he filled her completely.

With a sudden creak, the door burst open, shattering their intimate moment. Cane quickly pulled out of Deja, helping her back onto her feet as they hastily scrambled to cover themselves. They spun around, startled to find Tariq standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock. "Oh shit, sorry y'all!" he blurted out, swiftly shutting the door behind him.

"Maybe knock next time Tariq!" Deja yelled at him, rolling her eyes at him. Tariq's face twisted in confusion and wondered why Deja and Cane were together in the bathroom, aren't they supposed to be enemies? he mentally said to himself.

Deja and Cane exchanged a glance, their faces flushing with embarrassment and surprise. "I'll see you later baby," Cane said tenderly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. As their lips parted, a thin trail of saliva lingered between them, leaving Deja feeling flustered and aroused.

"Damn, I love you," Cane whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Deja's forehead. "I love you too," she replied, snuggling into his embrace for a bit.

Deja watched him leave the room. She knew that Tariq would try to figure out something from what he just saw, but for now, she just needed some time to process it all. Her phone buzzed three as she grabbed it out of her purse. Peeking at text messages from her family members and Cane.

Mom.❤️

Where the hell are you miss ma'am?🤨

Destiny.🙄👹

Hurry yo ass up, I'm ready to eat and go home!🙄

Dad.😭

Why is Romeo limping out of the mansion? Are you okay baby girl?

Diamond. 🌝🤓

How long is your ass gonna be in the damn bathroom?🤨 Destiny keeps annoying the hell out of me.🙄

Cane.🥷🏾🖤

I miss you already.😏❤️

What a crazy, nasty night she had.

—————-

Please excuse any grammar mistakes❤️

#black!reader #black fanfiction #black!fem!reader #cane tejada fic #cane tejada x reader #woody mcclain #notapradagurl7 #power book ii: ghost #power starz #power fic #power #black writer #black!oc

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brotherwtf · 10 months ago

Note

WOUNDED

[ WOUNDED ]: sender arrives at the receiver's door with considerable injuries, in dire need of help and emergency care that only the receiver is either trusted enough or convenient enough to provide.

*slaps drabble* this bad boy can fit so many fanfic cliches in it

----

There's a faint knock at the door, and Gale was sure he would have missed it if he wasn't putting his keys up. He looks at it perplexed. Who could be coming over this late?

He opens the door, expecting to give a solicitor a firm talking to, but finds he can't breathe when he sees John on his front porch. He gasps when he sees the bloody gash on his forehead, accompanied with a bruised eye socket and bloody knuckles. John looks defeated, slumped down into the doorframe like he can't quite hold himself up.

"Hey, Buck," John rasps and Gale shakes his head.

"Jesus, Bucky, what happened to you?" Gale asks, dragging John into his kitchen and forcing him to sit down.

John shrugs his shoulders, wincing when Gale turns on the lights.

"You better not have picked a fight in town again," Gale says, and the expression on John's face tells him all he needs to hear.

He grabs a rag and some hydrogen peroxide, along with some sticky bandages for the gash on his forehead.

"You gotta stop doing that, you keep getting hurt," Gale says, taking the damp rag and pressing it along the worst of the bleeding.

John takes a swift intake of breath, hand coming up in a mock salute at Gale's words.

"Yes ma'am," John says and Gale rolls his eyes at the words.

He works on cleaning the worst of the blood from John's face, standing between John's legs to do so. One of John's arms daringly finds Gale's waist, trying to wrap around it, but Gale pushes it down almost as quickly as it comes up.

"None of that, I need to get you cleaned up," Gale hisses and John almost whines because of it.

He takes the hydrogen peroxide and wets his rag with it, pressing it to the gash on John's forehead.

"I know, I know, sorry," Gale mutters when John winces at the stinging pain.

Once the majority of the blood was gone from John's face, he looks down at him with a hand on his shoulder, finger gently playing with the light curls on the nape of his neck.

"You gonna tell me why you got into a fight?" Gale asks, but it's more of an order than anything.

John sighs, daringly taking his arms and wrapping them around Gale's waist again. Gale doesn't stop this time, but ignores the way his heart jumps.

"Was talking bad about you, doll, saying mean things about how you don't come out to drink or dance. Couldn't let them talk about you like that," John says and it's horribly domestic.

Gale wasn't sure what their dynamic was. They were friends, but the way John held onto him and looked at him hinted that maybe he wanted something more. Gale wasn't quite sure if he reciprocated the feeling.

"Now why would you do that? I don't need you protecting my honor," Gale says and John chuckles.

"Don't you though? Come on Gale I know you're crazy about me," John says and Gale knows he's either drunk or crazy confident right now.

"And what if I am? Gonna do something about it?" Gale asks, and he can see the gears working in John's head.

He wraps his arms tighter around Gale's waist, bringing him in so Gale's stomach is flush with John's chest, daringly nuzzling his nose against Gale's shirt.

"I could kiss you, is that something good enough?" John asks and Gale feels his brain short circuit.

Before he can even think he's nodding, and John has surged upwards and grabbed his head in a kiss that was far better than anything he has ever experienced before. It makes his knees buckle, and he can taste the slight copper of blood that he didn't quite clean off on John's lips, and it's so fucking good he can't stand it.

John kisses Gale like he wants to own him, and his brain immediately goes fuzzy when John's hands hold his head. John pulls away, looking at Gale with a heady expression.

"Can I do that again?" John whispers.

"Fuck, of course you can" Gale curses before diving back in again.

#clegan #mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #asks

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iicomet · 2 years ago

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(Every year, he receives a box.) (Happy birthday, Chung Myung.)

Every single year without fail, Chung Myung receives a small box of mooncakes sitting on his opened windows he swore he had closed. Even as the cold air forced its way in and kissed his skin, causing goosebumps to rise from his neck, Chung Myung felt a sense of warmness at the sight of the familiar box. Although he isn't sure who gave him the box, he always had an inkling of the gifter's true identity. But if he tried to ask them about it, he would always be met with a confused hum and a swift denial. Perhaps they took him for a fool, because the small glint of happiness shining in their eyes always seemed to betray their nonchalant attitude. He wasn't going to complain though. A gift is a gift, and who was he to reject such kindness? It's definitely not because it brings a smile to his face or because the gifts always seem to be of his liking, it's just because he is a benevolent person who knows how to be grateful. Yup, that's definitely it. As one hundred years passed, Chung Myung still finds himself looking at the windowsill that feels oddly empty on his birthday. As he attempts to walk closer towards the closed window, his eyes caught a glimmer at the corner of his sights, distracting him from his reminiscing. A polished decoration atop a box that stood so out of place as it wasn't there in the morning. Chung Myung walks towards it, eyebrows raised. His expression morphing into one of surprise and curiosity when he finally examined it closer, a deep sense of nostalgia and hope filling him briefly. Why? It was just a box underneath a tree he often hid away in in his youth. But, he knew, it wasn't a mere package, for it held the intricate design he was oh so familiar with, and the insides that used to be filled with joy and blessings. It was a box they would always give him on his birthday, with ways even he could never decipher. But how could it be here? He was sure he wouldn’t be able to receive such favors after a hundred years. After all, the original gifter was long gone. But, he as well, disappeared before, so who’s to say that the other wouldn’t reappear as well? It was a far fetched theory, but he brushed it off as he held the box in his hands, looking at the small card on top of it with his name signed on the top, the sender’s signature missing as always. The handwriting never changed, remaining the same standard elegant mess. He couldn’t help the smile from forming on his face, feeling a wave of nostalgia when the smooth texture of the wrapping grazed his skin and reminded him of the feelings from a century ago. It was a box filled with memories and happiness, a box that brought the guilt and longing of the sender to the hopeful receiver. A gift that wished him a happy birthday, even after a hundred years of death.

#return of the blossoming blade #return of the mount hua sect #rotbb #x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #cheong myeong #chung myung #cheongmyeong #chung myung x reader #chungmyung #cheong myeong x reader #rotbb x reader #no im not late #happy cm day #happy birthday to cm woooo #they celebrate the day he was given life even after a hundred years of death guys when is it my turn

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rhiezus · 10 months ago

Note

[CAR]: sender and receiver are making out in receiver's car // mei x hwan pega dispatch pegaaaaaaaaa

goosebumps on mei's body had nothing to do with the temperature that dropped to a deadly one outside, she was wearing a heavy sweater that kept her warm though it all, it was more so to do with how her palms intertwined so well with his all the way there. it was also to do with how he opened the door for her, how he complimented her on her looks, how his eyes looked twinkling telling her all about his practice today after he tried to spare her of the details but she reminded him of her own practices and they realized how similar it was for both of them. if mei tried just a little bit further she could maybe swear she could hear it. it was there happened at the same time his voice hit her ears with a stupid joke and her laugh came out of her throat completely random, the beating of their hearts. at first when he picked her up just a little outside of the dorm, a street down to be precised — her group-mates might not be as worried for dispatch or invited watchers but mei liked to keep what was hers private of other's people eyes — her heart was practically pulsing out of her body. this happened before on their last first date, she could barely believe how good it all felt and how little time has passed since them. was it a year? six months? no, it was two weeks ago but time passed so slowly. it seemed like every minute and second was being counted by her old grandfather that couldn't tell numbers anymore, but distance probably grew their heart founder. hwan texted her every morning, he send her pictures of the sky, talked about a song he listened that reminded him of her and every time he did one of those little things her heart fell out of her mouth again and again. so moments ago when the man responsible for such reaction was right before her again, the opportunity seemed way too unrealistic not to be seized. mei said hello with a kiss on his cheek, his face was as smooth as she imagined and that's when their hands found each other to his car.

dates with celebrities were like this, sitting in a car in a safe place moments away from your house, talking and flirting, maybe even eating. she remembered how devi said football players have their own place and how devi was all the time over with her own boy's space baptizing every surface. but hwan was a different kind of breed of football player though, for their first date they went to a night picnic. they ate chicken sandwiches and drank strawberry juice while watching the stars, their first kiss goodnight was just as sweet as that meal. but planning ahead or planning too much isn't on their agenda, it can't be, today that's good because they can met up on a saturday night just to listen to each other's voice and see each other's faces. it's not all so bad, there is a rush to it that no other romance has. mei is certain that no one has ever felt like this before, no one has ever fell in love so hard as she probably is right now and it all comes to a realization when her heart that was so loud before — now it's content, rhythmic like it found it's pace again. there is nothing more comfortable than coming home. the thought brings her to stop doing anything mid conversation, she is freezing again but this time of fear.

this is terrifying, hwan must notice her nervous stare because he pulls her back to reality by bring the all the warmth of his body to his hand, his palm touching her cheek. she fights back the urge to think about how it's a perfect fit, her face with his hand. "this is crazy." mei is chuckling now because it's all very insane to her liking, understanding taylor swift's songs comes with a very high price. when she hears his voice asking her what is, her eyes find his like is an obvious answer that maybe he already does know but wants her to say it anyways. then just how it came to her thoughts, it also comes out: "how i feel about you... it's crazy." because it is, nothing else can explain and right now neither of them wants to hear an explanation. it doesn't even matter if it has one. mei just wants to keep living in this dazzling dream they he is building for her, its scary as hell but she wants to keep dreaming it. perhaps that's why his answer comes in a kiss, parting their lips together as one proving that — yes, you're not alone, i'm feeling it too. feels right to be there feeling both his hands on her cheeks now, pulling her closer even though he is the one leaning forward to her seat. it's a little bit sudden and it's really hot in the car now, because she has no idea for how long they are going at it. a moment or so they spare for breathing, but the hands don't leave each other. mei's got a grip on his hair and the first time she pulled it, she could hardly believe the little sound coming from hwan's mouth still on her own. she was moments away to jumping on the backseat and letting her hands feel more parts of his body, but this thought made her settle the making out with a special smooch of her own, filled with sweetness.

despite every inside of her telling her to throw her conscious aside and give away to those lips she still had some sense of decency and of, well, virginity still in her the fear crippled in again, this time a little louder, she knew it might be time to be honest about it to the boy she was in love but she was still debating herself like she been for the last month since they started getting to know each other. she hoped he knew so she couldn't tell him, because this was a secret that made all her friends think she was insane or extremely prude. but none of that were true, she just never met someone like hwan before that she wanted to give herself completely too. and now that she did, he deserved to know even if she was mortified to tell him so. "maybe a car is not the best place to do all that." mei finally broke the silence after intense kissing scene they just acted upon, thankfully this lined up the mood because the conversation drifted to something else and they were comfortable with each other again. she made a mental note to come back to that later, right now she wanted to keep talking with him, noticing his lips regain his natural color and his hands fixing her hair for her. it was perfect moment to be just natural together, no pressure and no overly unnecessary sharing of intimate details because it was all there. in the way his eyes were watching over her and her thoughts were humming a song she hasn't heard yet designed specially with hwan in mind.

#mei.#mei x hwan #cortesia de so high school #eu tive uns mini surtos escrevendo isso de tao fofo #realmente divertidissimo escrever as novas #o gif meio ilustrativo porque ela é linda

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cookiejarwrites · 8 months ago

Text

Dear Past Self | Chapter 1

pairing: nagito komaeda x fem!reader

words: around 800

synopsis: You begin receiving letters from your future self. As the letters continue, each of your high school regrets are gradually revealed, along with advice to stop them. One thing soon becomes very apparent. All your regrets revolve around one person...Nagito Komaeda.

a/n: still have a brain injury but i got bored and started playing danganronpa again so I’m redoing an old story of mine. It was previously on my ao3 but has been taken down, the old version is still currently on my old Wattpad though.

(aka you receive letters from your future self warning you of the disaster and despair that lies ahead)

I awoke to the jarring sound of my alarm clock blaring. With a swift motion, I slammed my hand down, silencing the obnoxious noise. Annoyed at the early start, I let out a groan. The struggles of waking up for school were never-ending. However, today was different. Today marked the beginning of my journey at Hopes Peak Academy, a prestigious school for individuals with extravagant abilities.

Although I didn't consider my talent particularly exhilarating, I had managed to catch the attention of the academy scouts. I was honored to be known as the Ultimate Pastry Chef. My aspirations revolved around opening my own bakery using only sustainable sources. I could go on for hours about all the details I had for my future, even to the exact menu price of my inevitable future restaurant.

In a less than graceful manner, I rolled out of my bed and thumped onto the floor. Determined not to be tardy on my first day, I hastily threw on my uniform and made my way to the bathroom to complete my morning routine.

As I prepared myself for the day, toothbrush still in my mouth, my mother's voice echoed from downstairs, "Y/N! Someone left a letter for you!"

Without hesitation, I went downstairs, snatched the letter, and darted back up to my bathroom. A sense of curiosity filled me as I examined the envelope. It was pristine, as if it had travelled in a steam-press rather than in a mail mans hand. Flipping it over, I took a closer look at the words. The handwriting bore a striking resemblance to my own, only neater. Surprisingly, there was no postmark on the back, leaving me puzzled as to how it found its way to me in the first place. To add to the intrigue, there was no sender name or address. The only words present were "from the future."

I rolled my eyes skeptically. Clearly, this was some sort of foolish prank. Disregarding the delicate nature of the neatly folded envelope, I tore it open. Swiftly, I plucked the paper from the envelope.

"What a lousy joke," I mumbled under my breath as my eyes scanned the letter.

Skipping to the bottom of the page, I glanced to see if there was the name of the sender, hoping for some kind of explanation. My annoyance increased as I read the words printed in neat handwriting.

"What the..? From me? Jeez, this is so dumb," I muttered to myself, the mix of disbelief and frustration evident in my voice. With each passing moment, my agitation grew

Taking a deep breath, I made up my mind to read the full letter from the beginning. Maybe, just maybe, it held some answers or at least shed light on the strange letter.

"Dear Y/N,

Hello. How are you? I wish you the best. I'm sure you are very excited for high school. You are an ultimate after all.

I'm writing this letter 6 years in your future. I'm sure you are very confused.

I'd like to ask you to do me a favor.

I made many mistakes in my past, and I'm hoping you won't make the same ones. Although it'd be terribly hard to erase all the disaster and despair that is to come, perhaps you can change the future for the better, before things go too far downhill.

I'll be sending you letters from now on. Each letter will be sent in chronological order of when events in your future will happen. I will also give you the choices I want you to make in order to change the past and prevent what is soon to be the most despair-inducing event in all of history. Not that you're the cause of it or anything, but some of your actions may affect how things play out. Especially how things ended up with someone you'll come to truly love.

Sincerely, Your future self."

The words resonated in my mind, leaving me dumbfounded and conflicted. Could this really be true? The thought crossed my mind, but I pushed it aside, not ready to fully accept the notion just yet.

"That's completely ridiculous. This must be a joke or something. There's no way—Oh, shit the time!"

The realization hit me like a bag of bricks, bringing me back to the present moment. I hastily rushed out of the bathroom, not bothering to collect my thoughts or make sense of the situation.

Bounding down the stairs, I grabbed my backpack and an extra pair of dress shoes, my mind racing with thoughts of the ticking clock. It was already 6 minutes past the time I had planned to leave for school, and I couldn't afford to waste another second.

#nagito komaeda #danganronpa nagito #sdr2 nagito #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #servant nagito #dangnaronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa anime #nagito komaeda x you #nagito komaeda fanfic #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x you #danganronpa x y/n

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