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#they socked someone babes
pb-n-ded-jelly · 2 years
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now, i feel like when it comes to canon, the states prolly get paid as government employees. they work with their state governments, they have their silly little meetings, it’s more plausible that they’re government employees
however.
the idea that that’s just their job as states and don’t get paid for it. which means they’d have to find other means of living. which means that some if not most of these guys have worked in fast food/retail and dealt with those types of shenanigans
the possibilities-
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warandpussy · 2 years
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ok here they are the most ridiculous socks I have ever made
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coldflasher · 2 months
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currently one week into a two-week stay with a terrible relative who needed help recovering from an operation and because i'm the only competent adult who was willing to do it (my dad literally lives with her but is both incompetent and unwilling) and i just. do not know how much more of this i can tolerate
she has the most TERRIBLE opinions and every morning when i sit down she'll just say something AWFUL and i have no choice but to respond because how on earth can you sit and listen to someone say something so repugnant and NOT say something. the one good thing i can say about her is that she isn't a tory but every other terrible evil little box you could tick, she probably fits it
i'm sure you're wondering, quite fairly, why i have even come here knowing this is the case. just to clarify, she has NEVER been this overtly awful before. like don't get me wrong, i knew she had some questionable opinions and i've butted heads with her about her views before but it's never been on this level. i think that now i'm an adult she feels free to go full mask off with everything and i'm like listen i'm usually in favour of unmasking but in this case can you put that shit back on, right the fuck now, preferably with superglue. and then apply said superglue to your mouth
the only reason i haven't just fucking walked out already is because my brother is coming down here on wednesday to see her for the first time since he started on testosterone, and i am genuinely concerned about how this woman will react because like. i'm sure saying she's also a transphobe will come as a shock to no one and for obvious reasons no one has told her... but when she actually sees him and hears him speak in person i feel like she's going to you know. catch on. fairly quickly. and i need to be here so i can back him up against the potential fallout and so i can get him out if things turn nasty. like it's not that i think she'd be able to DO anything, she's an old woman and she's just had surgery, but like. i'm obviously not gonna leave my brother to deal with that shit by himself
but yeah every minute i spend here is slowly crushing my soul to powder and making me feel unwell at the idea that there are real people who fucking think like this. and not only do they think it but they're willing to SAY IT and think it's a normal fucking thing to believe!!! and then when i go "what the fuck is wrong with you" and argue back she acts like there's something wrong with ME!!!! LIKE I'M THE BAD PERSON??? HUHHHHHHH???
#and this isn't even touching upon the hundreds of insane little rules she has for EVERYTHING. E V E R Y T H I N G#look im autistic. i'm cool with rules. but the sheer NUMBER OF RULES THIS WOMAN HAS ABOUT EVERY FACET OF EXISTENCE#ONE CANNOT POSSIBLY REMEMBER THEM ALL#the dishwasher has to be loaded in a certain way. if i put a single plate in the wrong place she freaks out and makes me move it#she has a fork preference which is fine and normal except that she INSISTS THAT OTHER PEOPLE ALSO ADHERE TO *HER* PREFERRED UTENSILS#like one type of fork is for dessert and one type of fork is for normal food. she didn't like the knives i picked because they're “too big”#(babe they're YOUR KNIVES) but then when i set the table she told me off because i should have used the big knife for my dad#because it's a “man's knife” SHUT UP. GENUINELY SHUT UP.#she told me to hang the clothes on the line straight so they don't get creased. okay makes sense#NO THAT'S TOO STRAIGHT. YOU'LL STRETCH THEM HANGING THEM LIKE THAT.#i even have to put the FUCKING WASHING UP BOWL IN THE SINK IN A CERTAIN DIRECTION. YOU COULD NOT MAKE THIS UP#im constantly on edge because everything i do is wrong in some way and there's just so many pointless rules to remember#like idk about you guys but if it were me. if someone had come to stay with me to help me after a surgery#and was cooking and doing the washing up and doing my errands for me. i would simply fucking say thank you?#i wouldn't be standing over them to make sure i didn't fold a fucking sock the wrong way
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lilithland · 7 months
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imagine you’re running late, trying to move some laundry, because of course as the inferior sex, you do the cooking and the cleaning
you’re almost done moving your clothes when you see your favorite sock stuck in the back of the machine, you try to stick your arm as far into the machine as possible but you still can’t reach the sock
you maneuver your body until your head and both arms are in the machine, you successfully grab your sock but when you go to pull your body out of the machine you find you are stuck
you wiggle and squirm but can’t seem to get out of the washing machine
your partner was supposed to pick you up for a date later (you had left them a little note hoping to suprise them when they got home) so you knew eventually someone would come to your rescue
20 minutes later you’re scared shitless when you hear a loud knock at your door, it can’t possibly be your partner because they have a key and it’s way too early for them to be back
you start to panic a little but try to ration that a burglar wouldn’t try to knock first before entering, you hear the loud knock again followed by your door opening
“maintenance”
you don’t know if you should holler for help or pray to god that they don’t enter your laundry room, you’re beyond humiliated at your predicament
luck was not on your side, you hear heavy footsteps approach you, you hear a low whistle behind you
“and what do we have here?” rumbles a deep voice
you swallow your pride, “hi, um, sorry about this, wo-would you be able to help me … please?”
large hands grab your hips, you naively think you’re about to be set free
when instead of attempting to pull you out of the machine, one hand retracts and lands a hard smack on your ass
you scream in pain and jolt a little in the machine
“what the hell is wrong with you?!” you scream trying harder to wiggle your way out
“well sweetheart, when i enter a house and find a note that says i can’t wait for all the dirty things you want to do to me and then find a hot babe with an incredible ass on display, i have to oblige and give them the fucking of a lifetime”
you still at his words, he had found the note you left for your partner, he thinks you set up this elaborate plan to have wild sex with a stranger
“no you don’t understand that was meant for my partner i am seriously stuck please help me get out” you start pleading and begging
“sure, and i’m sure you’re gonna keep screaming no and for me to stop, even while your cunt squeezes and cums on my hard cock over and over again, is that the game we’re gonna play tonight sweetheart?”
you really start to thrash inside the machine, it doesn’t matter what you say, this stranger is about to r4pe your tiny holes
he shushes you as he continues to grope your ass with his giant hands
he flips the skirt you had been wearing up over your ass, giving him a perfect view of your thong
your boobs hadn’t quite made it into the machine, he yanks your tank top down freeing your titties, smushing them against the cold machine
the cold instantly makes your nipples hard and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips
“oh is someone finally getting excited?”
the strangers rough hands pinch your nipples as you start back up your protests of no’s
he gives your titties a rough smack and you scream and jolt in the machine again
he alternates between painful pinching and rough slapping, you start crying with how rough he’s being
“doesn’t matter how much you protest princess, i know you’ll be soaked when i go check on your princess parts again”
you refuse to believe him, but when his hands stop abusing your tits and go to remove your thong, you can feel the sticky trail being pulled from you
you feel his rough fingers collecting the juices at your enterance, the embarrassment of it all makes you leak around his hand even more
he wipes your girl juice along your thighs and all over your ass, the more his fingers just barely touch your cunnie to collect more, the more you drip for him
you hate how your body is betraying you
he removes his fingers and you hear some shuffling, you emotionally try to prepare yourself to be thrusted in to
you weren’t expecting to feel a wet tongue
you werent expecting to feel a wet tongue eating out your ass
you try to squirm but in the process accidentally push back more onto his tongue
his big hands deliver a hard smack to your thighs before pinning them down and holding them in place
“i can also go in dry baby doll”
you totally still at the implication he’s going to fuck your ass
you whimper and cry more
he removes one hand from your thigh and starts to play with your inferiority hole while he continues to eat out your asshole, he alternates between rubbing your nub, a little too hard, and roughly fingering your fuck hole
you don’t know how but his rough administrations make you have cummies
you clench the fingers inside you tightly as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm
before he stands he spits a glob of saliva right on top of your asshole
seconds later he’s rubbing his hard cock up and down your slit, collecting all of your girl juices as you continue to leak
without warning he starts to slowly and painfully shove his dick into you
each inch is excruciatingly painful and his dick seems to go on forever and ever
by the time he bottoms out you think you might pass out, there has to be at least eight inches of dick in your freshly r4ped asshole
he stills for a moment and decides to abuse your body some more while you adjust to his length
he smacks your ass and your titties, runs your overstimulated clit too hard and too fast
when he’s done playing with your body he grips your hips painfully and begins to piston in and out of your ass
he sets a brutal pace from the start, roughly fucking you against the washing machine
your abused and sensitive tits sway with each thrust, causing them to smack against the machine over and over again
you lose track of time, only knowing the sensation of your asshole being abused
without warning you hear a guttural grunt and feel a warmth deep in your gut
the maintenance man pulls out with a plop
“don’t worry baby, i’ll make sure to get a video of your gaping asshole leaking my hot sperm into your delicious cunt”
you’re horrified at every aspect of what he just said, your stomach churning at that the thought of such a video getting uploaded to the internet
as he said, you can feel the cum leaking out of your open asshole, slowly dripping towards your inferiority hole
as the sperm starts to pool, his fingers are on you again
or rather in you, his fingers easily slide into your gaping asshole, collecting his own jizz
to your continued horror he then shoves his fingers deep into your cunt, fucking his cum into the proper fuck hole
you aren’t on any birth control
his fingers move in and out of you slowly, you’re humiliatingly wet so he has no problem getting a few in you
“should i cum in your pussy next or try to get my fist in your ass?”
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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roomate jamess 😭😭😭💓💓🤍😭😭💓
I agree !
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!james x shy!reader ♡ 733 words
James gets the text just as he arrives home: Are you hungry?
He grins, putting his car in park as he types out a reply. 
I’m wounded. We’re coming up on our one-month roommate anniversary, and you still don’t know I’m always hungry? 
This makes a grand total of four texts between the two of you. You’d conversed a bit more on Craigslist before agreeing to let James move in with you, but barely. Your radio silence is much like your actual silence, but he’s happy to be making a dent in either. 
Your response comes while he’s fishing his keys out of his pocket. Sorry. Want thai?
James laughs, opening the door and toeing off his shoes. He calls in the general direction of your room, “I hope you’re joking about being sorry.” 
He’s hoping for maybe a reply via text, so it comes as a pleasant surprise when you appear on the stairs. You move like a ghost; if he put you and Remus in an old manor together, James is half sure it’d qualify as a haunted house. 
You’re in your pajamas, which means you must already be done with work for the day. James has noticed this is one of your habits; once you’ve decided you’re staying in the house, your outside clothes hit the hamper and you’re living in fuzzy socks. These ones, standing halfway up the staircase, are blue with white stars. Something about seeing you in full cozy mode makes James’ stomach twinge. 
“Do you want Thai?” you ask again, longer and in person. Several decibels quieter than he’d just been.
“Sure.” James gives you a smile, flopping backwards over the arm of the couch. He was going to cook pasta for dinner, but he’s a bit tired anyway and agreeing to the first bonding opportunity you’ve offered him takes precedence. “Do you wanna use my card, or should I pay you after?” 
“Don’t.” You wave him off, already typing on your phone. “I’m getting it.” 
“Not happening,” James replies. He starts digging in his pocket for his wallet, unearthing a half dozen gum wrappers and a receipt from last March. “But in theory, to what do I owe the honor?” 
Your eyes flit to him, something like accusation in them. James feels his eyebrows lift. “I know you don’t have that many leftovers,” you say. 
So, you’re onto him. “I cook a lot,” he replies with a shrug. “If there’s extra, someone should eat it.” 
“But why not you?” 
“Why not you?” he counters. 
You look suspiciously as though you might be biting down on a smile. A real one. “The point is, I owe you at least a meal. Do you want to see the menu?” 
“Sure, thanks.” He reaches out a hand. You come down the stairs to give him your phone, but once it’s in his hand your eyes narrow mistrustfully, fingers tightening on the device. 
“If you try to pay,” you tell him, “I’ll hide the money in your room so you don’t find it until you move out.” 
A laugh bubbles up out of him at your serious tone. “We live together, babe. I think I’ll come across it at some point.” 
“Not with your room as messy as it is.” 
Damn it, you’re right. “Fine.” James holds up his hands in surrender, credit card between his fingers. “But when I make dinner tomorrow, just eat it while it’s hot, yeah? Let’s do away with the pretense.” 
You sigh through your nose, sitting down beside him with one leg curled under you. You’re attempting something that’s probably supposed to be a glare. James would hate to have to tell you how unintimidating it is, but he may if you keep it up much longer; it’s almost too adorable to take. 
“I appreciate it, but you really don’t need to cook for me,” you say. “I eat plenty when you’re not here.” 
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 
“That’s the point, James.” You roll your eyes, looking halfway amused. Shit, the day he actually makes you laugh he’s gonna have to bake a cake. “You’re not here to see it.” 
“Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?” He passes you back your phone, having added his order to your cart. “They’ve just added a slew of new movies to Netflix. Also, for tomorrow, do you prefer pasta or chicken?” 
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onlyswan · 11 months
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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k
content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉
> in which masterlist!
note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3
“jungkook, baby?”
your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.
“babe?”
you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.
him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.
and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.
but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.
you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.
the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.
he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?
agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.
maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.
whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.
in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.
you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.
jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.
clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.
but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.
your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.
not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.
you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.
the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.
you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.
anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.
jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.
when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.
night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.
“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.
the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.
“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.
his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.
“are you crying?!”
your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.
“baby!”
he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”
“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”
this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.
“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”
his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.
you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.
“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”
from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.
“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”
now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.
but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.
“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.
he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.
“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”
“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.
he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”
fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.
“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.
the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.
“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”
“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”
“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”
you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.
“____!”
and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.
“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”
you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.
“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”
you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”
“are you sure?”
he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.
“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”
“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”
“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”
“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.
“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.
and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.
“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”
“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”
“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”
he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.
“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.
he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.
and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.
“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”
if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.
however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.
“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”
jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.
may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.
“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”
he winces guiltily.
“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”
“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.
he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.
“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.
“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.
“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.
you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.
of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.
“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.
“rice,” he demands as he chews.
you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.
“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.
witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.
“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.
“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.
“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”
but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.
“i just told you to eat first!”
you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”
he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.
“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”
he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.
you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.
with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.
and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.
and it was cold. it was always cold.
“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”
“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”
“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”
“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”
“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”
your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.
a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.
your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.
oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.
“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.
the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.
“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.
the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.
he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.
“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”
you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.
you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.
you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.
“are you spiderman?”
he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”
you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”
he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”
“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“
“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”
your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.
“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”
you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.
“uh?! i’m serious over here!”
this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.
“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”
he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.
“i’ll go with you,”
“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”
“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.
“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”
“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”
that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.
“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”
“this is very normal,” he argues.
the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.
“some would even say romantic.”
a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.
you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.
you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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pathologicalreid · 6 months
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hair care
spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff
w/c: 481
this is based on a tiktok i saw where someone's bf bought the stuff they use in the shower and i thought! spencer would do that!
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“Where are you going?” Spencer asked you groggily from where he had been sleeping in his bed. He was blinking at you while he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom.
You were hobbling around his room, trying to pull socks on over your feet. In all honesty, they were probably Spencer’s socks, but you hadn’t wanted to turn the light on. “I have to go home before work,” you told him, keeping your voice low, “I need to wash my hair.”
In the darkness, you saw your boyfriend narrow his eyes at you, “I bought your hair stuff for you.”
Stilling your movements, you dropped your half-socked foot to the ground, “You bought my hair stuff?” It had caused problems since you started spending the night at Spencer’s, you tended to be very particular about your hair products, and you didn’t like to stray from your routine.
“I wanted you to be able to wash your hair here,” Spencer offered, wiping a hand down his face.
Suspicious, you went into the ensuite and opened the shower door. Your sleuthing uncovered the fact that he had in fact purchased all of your haircare supplies – even the things you used once you got out of the shower. “Babe,” you said, still minding your volume, “some of this stuff is expensive.”
You heard him shuffling around on the sheets, but you couldn’t totally see him in the dark, “I know - when I told Morgan he told me I was whipped.”
Rolling your eyes, you sat down on the ledge of the bed. Derek didn’t have any hair to wash, so in your mind, his opinion on the subject didn’t matter. “You have to let me pay you back,” you insisted. Really, some of the products were getting out of hand expensive.
Spencer reached out and pulled you further onto the bed, “I don’t have to let you do anything,” he chided softly. “Besides, now you don’t have to leave at four in the morning to go wash your hair across town.” As usual, his reasoning was sound. You lived on the other side of D.C., and even further from Quantico, making it no surprise that the two of you had been ending up at his place at an increasing frequency.
“But you don’t get anything out of it,” you said, pouting slightly, despite the fact that he couldn’t see your expression in the dark.
Dragging you back down to the bed with him, Spencer corrected you, “Now you don’t have to wake me up when you get up at four in the morning to go wash your hair on the other side of town.”
You sighed, “I always try to be really quiet,” you insisted. You would never purposefully wake him up at four in the morning.
He hummed sleepily, “and yet, you’re really bad at it.”
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months
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Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader
Simon Riley: Girl Dad
From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video
“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 
She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.
"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.
It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.
You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 
He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 
“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”
You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  
When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.
She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.
It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.
“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 
It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.
His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”
Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”
Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  
“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”
Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 
His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.
Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 
“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”
At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  
Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 
“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.
Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”
The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.
The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 
“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.
She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.
He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 
Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.
“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”
Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.
He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?
As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 
“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.
“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.��
Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”
“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 
“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”
The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.
Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”
The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.
Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 
“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”
Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.
“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”
“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”
Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 
“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”
“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.
Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.
Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 
“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”
She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 
“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 
He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”
Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 
“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”
Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”
And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.
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oceantornadoo · 2 months
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i like the idea of it being natural. maybe not a romance with simon riley but something more, something like finding your person. you join this team and find your new family, yes, but more importantly, you find him. suddenly you’re attached at the hip, bent heads curving inwards at loud pubs, refusing to miss a word of conversation. someone asks you a question and you reply “i need to ask-“ but he’s already there, your grisly little (big) shadow always watching from the corners. it becomes tucked legs on couches, tangled ankles under blankets. this thing progresses quickly to thighs on top of each other, his hand in your hair and your arm around his neck. you feel practically naked without his forearm on your waist, directing you in and out of foot traffic as you excitedly tell him about your day. the first kiss is gentle, exploring, a slight prod at your non existent boundaries. the second kiss feels already familiar, and by the third he’s remembering that ring box at the bottom of his sock drawer. the nicknames come quick and easy: love, sweetheart, dove. baby when he’s needy and babe when you can’t find that item you’re looking for (it’s in his room). marriage is practically assumed, your wedding on a cool fall day in between missions. refusing honeymoon time off until you can spend it on christmas, snow kissing simon’s hair as he looks at you, shining in the darkness, wondering how he got so lucky.
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writersdrug · 14 days
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Training for Two
Chapter 7. Motivated, Sir!
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Masterlist
Summary: You struggle to keep up with your freelance work - Soap has the wonderful idea of bringing you and Riley to base.
Warnings: cursing, yeah.
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Sure enough, Simon had requested your services about three days after you’d run into him in the café.
He had sent you an email the Tuesday following your run in. It was the same as before – short and to the point. leaving thursday at 0900. riley will need her meds at 1300. i’ll be on base for a few days for trainig, won’t be far. call if you need anything.
You showed up no later than twelve-thirty, your backpack hanging off one shoulder and a fresh bag of peanut-butter-bacon cookies in your free hand. You cooed and smiled at Riley as she all but attacked you as you entered through the front door. She seemed to have grown to miss you, which had your heart swelling with pride. People pleaser and a puppy pleaser, it seems.
After a dose of her medicine and a much-needed walk through one of the nearby parks, you crashed on Simon’s couch to do some freelance work. With your feet kicked up onto the coffee table (politely, with your socks on and your shoes by the front door), you tapped and clicked away at your laptop, fiddling with the edge of your sweatshirt as you concentrated.
You may have bitten off more than you could chew, as much as you hated to admit it. Prancing your skill online – boosting social media posts that boasted about your expertise in logo design and marketing had brought in more customers than you anticipated. Recognition was exciting, and you had taken on four clients at once; something you were currently and mentally kicking yourself for. The burnout had settled in quickly after you finished the first portfolio of logo samples, and you wanted nothing more than to take a nap with Riley as your blanket.
You sighed, sinking further into the couch cushions and running your hands over your face. You were dangerously low on motivation.
A few moments later, you were holding your phone, listening to each ring as you chewed on the edge of your sleeve. A bad habit, one that your mother had tried to break you of in your teenage years, but you stubbornly kept to it.
Soon, the phone picked up with a click. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi Tyler…” you said with a relived exhale. “You busy?”
“Eh-“ he grunted; you heard the sound of tinkering in the background, and the voice of the secretary at his main office. “I’ve got a moment. Everything alright?”
You sighed. “Yeah… nothing’s wrong, I’m just stuck.”
“How so?”
“Well” – you sat upright, crossing your feet under you and putting your laptop to the side – “I’ve finished the one project, and now I-“
“Which project?” Tyler interjected. You heard beeping, followed by one of his coworkers asking for a wire stripper.
“The logo design for that new attorney’s office off of main and thirty-fourth.”
“Oh! Yeah yeah, I remember.”
You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I finished that one. I have three other projects now, and one is due by the-“
“Three?! I thought you just had the one!”
A sigh escaped your lips. “I did, and then more clients flooded in, I just got ahead of myself-“
“Sweetheart- here, Max, hold this for a second- you got too much on your plate. You’ve already been house-sitting for that one guy, Sam-“
“-Simon.”
“Right, yeah. But, doll, maybe you need a break. Can you tell him that you need him to find someone else for now?”
You faltered. “You’re saying quit the house-sitting gig?”
“Not quit, I know Riley likes you – but maybe just have him get another guy to finish the week.”
“I can’t do that!” you said, a bit taken aback that Tyler of all people, Mr. Work-Till-You-Drop himself, would suggest that you let go of a project. “He can’t exactly find a different sitter right now, he’s not going to be home.”
“Alright, alright- what about dropping one of the logo gigs?”
“That would look bad for my business.”
“Well, babe-“ you heard someone call for him in the background of the call. “-give me a sec, Ron, it’s important- I don’t know what to tell you. You bit off more than you can chew, it sounds like.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach; why am I bothering him? He’s working, and this isn’t something he can exactly help with. “Yeah- I’m sorry. I’m just- I dunno. I need something to motivate me.”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Tyler sighed; you could hear the pinch in his brow. “I’m not trying to be short with you, I… eh, I guess this wasn’t the best time, hmm? Tell you what: when Sam comes back-“
“Simon.” You said with a chuckle.
“Shit, sorry- when Simon gets back, and you’re back home, let’s have a day in, yeah? You pick a movie, I’ll get the takeaway, and have a look at your portfolio. Sound good?”
You smiled, the knot in your stomach easing up a bit. “Yeah, sounds like paradise.”
“Good.” Tyler said, and you could hear the smile in his tone. “I’ll make sure it is. Let your mind rest a bit, alright? And give Riley a kiss for me.”
“What, I don’t get one?”
“Yours are automatic!”
“Leavin’ me for a dog, are you?”
“I wouldn’t leave you for Aphrodite.”
You smiled. “I love you. But go back to work! I don’t want Ron to hate me.”
Tyler chuckled, the sound sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Alright. Love you too.”
You ended the call, tossing the phone onto the cushion next to you. Why did I call him? He was at work – I knew that. He doesn’t even know anything about design. I could have texted him – or I could have just left him alone. Why would I even bother him with this? How could he have helped?
You groaned, closing your laptop and moving it to the coffee table. Looking across the room, you saw that Riley was no longer in her bed, her blanket partially spilling onto the floor next to it. She whined; you turned your head to find her sitting at the door. She met your gaze, licking her lips and tapping her feet anxiously on the floor.
“Do you need to go out?”
She whined again, impatient.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you huffed, standing on your feet and stretching your limbs. She trotted over to you with a groan, then back to the door.
You followed her there, slipping on your shoes. You reached into the closet and grabbed her leash, leaning down to clip it onto her collar. She grunted and jerked her head back, taking a few steps away from you.
Confusion settled on your face. “C’mon girl, don’tcha want to go for a walk?”
She let out a few voofs, raising a paw and stomping it indignantly. You tried again, reaching out with the clip of the leash, but she darted away once more. She stood by the closet and barked shrilly, still staring at you.
This lasted for a few more minutes; you’d stand there, taking every woo and wuff that she threw at you. After a few moments of the following silence, you’d take a step towards her, holding up the leash with a cocked brow, and she’d huff and turn in a circle.
“I’m sorry I don’t speak awoowoo.” You said in frustration, putting your hands on your hips. “spreek je Nederlands?”
She huffed dramatically, lying down and resting her nose on her front paws. You sighed yourself and headed back towards the couch – she yipped, whining at you through her nose.
“What?” you asked, throwing your hands up. “I don’t know what you want!”
She barked back at you. Helpful.
You groaned. This wasn’t getting you anywhere. You went back to the couch and grabbed your phone, flopping stomach-first onto the cushions. Riley trotted over to your side and whined, sitting politely on the rug.
With a few clicks, Simon’s contact appeared on your phone; well, it was Riley’s face, her snout taking up most of the camera and her ears tucked back against her head as she had sniffed the lens in the moment. You chewed your lip. It’s not an emergency… but maybe he forgot to tell me about part of her routine? She hadn’t acted this upset the last time you were here… and she had certainly never indicated no when you got ready to take her outside.
You pressed the call button, putting your phone on speaker. Not half a ring had passed before Simon answered.
“Wha’s wrong? ‘S Riley ok?”
“N- hi, Simon – yeah, Riley’s ok. She-“
“Are you ok?”
You chuckled. “Yes, I’m fine. This isn’t an emergency.”
You heard him sigh, and quickly tried to deescalate the situation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you-“
“Don’t apologize,” he said, “ya did nothin’ wrong. I know you wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
You laughed again. “Well, I don’t really know if it is or isn’t – I’m trying to take Riley out for a stroll, and she won’t go,”
“No?”
“No. I try to put her leash on and she runs away. She’s yapping at me though, like she’s got something to say.” You looked at her, reaching a finger to boop her nose.
You heard the faint sound of gunshots in the background of the call. You had half a mind to ask if he was in battle- war- whatever they called it- at the moment, until you remembered that he said he was training this week. “Ya sure she needs t’ go out?”
“She’s acting like she does.” You said, rolling onto your side.
He grunted. “Pain flarin’ up?”
“She’s not limping.”
“Biscuit?”
“She’s had her first daily.”
He sighed. “Beats me. I’d think she was-“
“Oi! LT!”
You listened closely, suddenly drawn to the commotion beyond the speaker. “Simon?”
“One sec, luv-“ he said quickly. “I’m busy, Soap-“
“Cap needs ye back oan th’ feld. One o’ the Jimmies hud o’ nice fall.”
“Fuckin’ wot?”
“One o’ the rookies collapsed.” Soap was now closer to the phone; close enough that you could hear he was out of breath. “Cap wants ye out there.”
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“Tell ‘im yer feckin’ self, ye dry piece o’ shite-“
Riley suddenly barked, making you jolt. She stood with her paws on the edge of the couch and staring at the phone.
“Awe, tha’ mah girl?” Soap said from the other line. “Mah Bonnie, yea? She miss me?”
“’M on the fuckin’ phone, Johnny.”
“Ah know, I’m talkin’ to the pup.”
You thought for a moment, as Simon and Soap bickered in the background. Maybe, Riley misses Simon’s coworkers? She used to work with them… judging on her reaction – panting and ears perked up as she listened to the conversation – you’d guess you were right.
“Hey, uh… Simon?”
‘- hm?” Simon halted his bickering with Soap at the sound of your voice.
“Does she maybe want to see your- team? Or Soap, at the very least?”
“Aye, she does.” Soap chimed in, making Riley whine. “Ya hear tha’? She misses ‘er ol’ uncle Johnny.”
“Bugger off, mate.” Simon grumbled.
You suddenly felt like you made a mistake even voicing your thoughts. “Sorry if it’s not a good idea, I just heard how she reacted to Soap’s voice, and, y’know – how she used to work with you all…” you chuckled at yourself. “Now that I think about it, I probably couldn’t even get on base, could I?”
“It would-“
“None o’ that keech!” Soap said, cutting off Simon for the umpteenth time. “Ghost, ye can tell the gate guards you’ll be expectin’ er. Or cap, he’ll vouch for ‘er. Want tae see my girl.”
You felt a bout of excitement roll through your veins. “I think that would be great! And I’d get to meet you all finally. I should know who Simon travels the world with, right?”
There was a moment of silence over the phone, save for the distant gunfire and the cadence of orders being called out. You wondered if you had said something wrong; ‘travel the world…’ it’s deployment, not a vacation. Why did I say that?
“Don’t see why not.” Simon finally said, and you sighed quietly.
“You sure?” you confirmed.
“It’s jus’ what the pup needs.” Soap said. “Probably misses ‘er other friends, too-“
“Jus’ head towards the naval base, n’ I’ll send you the address to the gate.” Simon said with a huff. “Tell them you’re here for Ghost.”
“Ghost…” you repeated.
“’S my callsign. Oh, and, uh- put ‘er harness on. She wears that to base, probably why she won’t take jus’ the leash.”
You smiled, heart fluttering a bit at the information. “Great! I’ll see you soon!”
“Drive safe.”
You bit your lip as the call ended, that warmth still bubbling within your chest. A thousand, fleeting questions circled within your head as you rolled onto your side, clutching your phone to your chest. Does he call everyone luv? What gave him the callsign “Ghost”? I wonder what his team is like… I wonder what Johnny- Soap?- is like. I wonder if they’re all as attractive as-
Riley barked; you yelped, body tensing as you were torn from your thoughts. She pawed at you, still standing on her two hind legs and yowling lowly in your direction.
“Alright, alright- let’s go!” you rolled off the couch, equally as excited as she was. She happily obliged to sit next to you when you grabbed the harness from the closet, slipping it over her head and latching the leash to its back. She then eagerly trotted to the door, tapping her feet anxiously and whining.
You stuffed your feet into your shoes (you hoped that a sweatshirt, leggings, and rain boots would be appropriate for bringing your client’s dog on a military base). You stepped out into the overcast day, locking Simon’s door behind you and shoving the key into your bra; excitement boiled underneath your veins as the two of you headed over to your car, right as your phone buzzed with Simon’s text.
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Simon watched as your contact photo faded from the screen. His eyes hardened as he turned to Johnny – the bloke had a cheeky grin on his face, staring right back at his lieutenant. Simon wanted to grab him by his mohawk and swing him into the wall like a discus.
“Wha’?” Soap said innocently, shoulders shrugging with irreproachability. “I miss ‘er.”
“Ya don’t have nothin’ to miss, you wanker.” Simon snarled, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. “You’ve never met ‘er.”
“The dog, ya git.” Soap sighed. His eyes narrowed in amused suspicion. “Yer awfully protective o’ the lass, don’t ye think?”
Oh, Simon could have launched the Scot into next week. He knew what he was doing, the bastard. He knew Johnny was either going to try and pair you with himself, sweep you off your feet and charm you with his stupid blue eyes and bright smile – or, he was going to pitch you with his lieutenant. Simon didn’t like not knowing how to prepare himself: to either cockblock you and Johnny, or to refuse any advances Johnny made to him on your behalf.
Soap huffed, not intimidated in the slightest by Ghost’s dissociative, angry stare. “Calm doon, LT.” he said, shoving his shoulder with two, sturdy fingers. “She’s got a lad, aye? I jus’ want tae see Riley. I’ll leave your precious house-sitter alone.” He held a hand up and crossed a finger over his chest. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never in Boy Scouts.” Ghost grumbled.
“Does it make a difference?” Soap said with a quirked eyebrow.
Simon sighed, leaving Soap on the training field to find Price. He had to let him know you’d be coming to base, or you’d be stopped at the gate and turned away – or worse, dragged off by the military police. It would be a surefire way of keeping you away from Soap, but it was also rather unhospitable. Riley wouldn’t be too impressed, either.
Still, Johnny had a point. Why was he fretting? You weren’t his.
“Jus’ keep an eye on the recruits. Be back in a moment.” He said over his shoulder.
“Aye, LT.” Soap responded: Simon could hear the grin on his face.
Smug bastard.
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Next ->
Taglist (trying this again): @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon
456 notes · View notes
rainylana · 5 months
Text
“My pussy.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
warnings: language, smut, fingering, rough smut, dom!eddie, use of a vibrator, spanking.
summary: eddie finds your vibrator in the bathroom.
to the anonymous user, thank you for requesting!
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You were sitting in front of the tv, crisscross on the floor as the Andy Griffith show played in front of you. You were clad in your socked feet and matching pajamas, putting polaroids in your album. It was a calm night, a sweet, romantic one you and Eddie were spending together, just a relaxing night in.
“Hey, babe!” Eddie called from the bathroom. “Come take a look at this! You’ll never believe what I found!”
You grimaced. “In the bathroom? Gross, Eddie! I’ll wait out here, thanks so much.” You chuckled, shaking your head at him.
The sound of a high pitched whirring flooded your ears, and immediately, heat went to your face. You pounced up. “No, no, no, no, no!” You screeched and screamed, running to the bathroom.
You found Eddie, leaned up against the sink and smirking, looking proud and cocky as ever. His hand propped him up against the sink, the other swung your pink vibrator side to side like he was trying to hypnotize someone.
You screamed. “Eddie!” You quickly leapt for it, but he stood tall and held it above your head.
“I don’t think so!” He tsked. “Didn’t know you had one of these laying around. Am I not satisfying you?” His eyes darkened playfully, making you roll your eyes.
“Oh, please, Eddie, drop it.” You jumped to reach it. “Please, forget you- Jesus, you’re tall!”
He scoffed and handed it to you, buzzing still loud and when you got it, you quickly switched it off, face burning and hands shaking from embarrassment. “Sorry you had to see that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He bounced off the sink to follow you into your bedroom. “We could have had some fun!”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I guess it’s just private, I suppose.”
Eddie smirked, taking a long stride over to you. He put his hands on your shoulders. “Well, my dear, I think I’ve been missing out. What do you say we add a little something new to the mix?” He kept his eyes on you, slowly walking you backwards to your shared bed.
You wiggled your brows and hummed, matching his lips in a hot kiss. You both fell to the bed in a heap, clothes flinging off to the floor one by one. You squeaked when he gripped your hips and spun you around, putting you face first into the mattress. He grabbed you and lifted your hips up to meet his face. She smirked, spitting in his fingers and rubbing them up your slick cunt. You gasped, reaching out to grab a pillow.
“Uh, uh.” He smacked your ass, making you squeal. “Keep your hands still.”
He pushed into your pussy, standing behind you at the foot of the bed. You moaned pathetically, drooling into the pillow so quickly it barely had even started. That’s the way sex was with Eddie. He knew you so well, knew all the right buttons to push.
You couldn’t help but blush when the sound of your vibrator turned on, and when it pushed at your clit, body bent over and ass up, you sobbed, a tear pushing past your lids. Eddie knew how stimulated you got and how quickly you did so. “Fuck,” You cried. “Oh, let me me feel you, please!”
“No.” He turned up the speed of the toy, smacking your ass with his free hand. “You wanna play with yourself without me? Then you’ll take your punishment and enjoy it.”
He spanked you again and again from cheek to cheek, making you jump out of your place and yelp from the sting of his hand.
“It’s mine.” He sneered. “My pussy.”
“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. “Just fuck me please!”
He slipped the vibrator into your cunt, the pink tip disappearing inside of you. He thrusted it in and out of you quickly, smacking your ass here and there until you were near purple with bruises. You saw stars as you came, panting heavily and shakily.
When you collapsed. He stood there with a dumb, goofy grin on his face. “See? Fun, right?”
914 notes · View notes
coralinnii · 8 months
Note
Hi! How's it going?
Can I please request Leona, Riddle, Cater and Ace reacting to the reader wearing someone else's jacket?
‧₊˚✧New Jacket, Who Dis? ‧₊˚✧
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↳ forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  
feat: Leona ❋ Riddle ❋ Cater ❋ Ace genre: humor, fluff note: no pronouns used for reader, reader is implied to be smaller than Floyd, nicknames used for reader (cutie, babe, baby), established relationships, reader is implied to be from Ramshackle,
I swear I will get these requests completed even if it kills me. Damn my tendency to go into hibernation during winter! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the reading ^///^
Part 1 2.7k followers writing event
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Leona has jackets? 
I mean, you were sure Leona owns a plethora of high-end jackets and outerwear of the finest fabrics but be it a preference or perhaps too much of an effort, you rarely see the beastman wear anything other than a shirt and at best a dorm-mandated vest.
So, when you feel a chill down your spine on your way to class, the idea of asking your boyfriend for a jacket did not cross your mind. Can’t ask for what you’ve never seen.
A classmate of yours saw your pitiful form and offered you his school blazer. Something better than nothing, he thought. 
Grateful, you were quick to take up his kind offer and practically snuggled your face into it for warmth. Now in a better mood, you got through the first half of the day and quickly made your way to the greenhouse where you suspect a certain lion beastman is hiding. 
But it seems that said beastman wasn’t in high spirits as you were when with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, he raised his palm towards you signaling you to step no closer to him. 
An unfamiliar scent unpleasantly wafted through Leona’s territory, and to his annoyance, you appeared to be the source of it. 
No, not you…That wretched jacket.
Leona doesn’t have to ask. He can surmise the situation on his own, the weather was chilly, you being stupid enough to leave without something cozy, and some brave or stupid herbivore handing you something with his scent even though you were the partner of a beastman. Though irritating, logically this was not something surprising… but he doesn’t have to like it regardless. 
And he doesn’t. 
Pointing towards you, he further narrowed his gaze on the jacket that has tainted you with its irritating stench of another man. “Oi, take it off.” 
Though confused, you did as he said (lest you want him even grumpier, you thought) and placed your friend’s jacket onto Leona’s outstretched hand. 
Suddenly and without warning, the dark-haired upperclassman harshly tossed the fabric to a random direction, with such feelings of disgust and annoyance radiating off from Leona, you would think the jacket spat in his meal or something. 
But no matter how many times you tried to ask for his reasons or how many times you begged him to let you go after pulling you into his arms so you could retrieve the abandoned jacket, Leona said nothing as he kept his grip strong around you as he fell asleep once more, lulled by your unobstructed scent. 
“Ruggie can grab my jacket for you so quit harping about it…You feel bad for Ruggie for the trouble? Tch, who’s fault you think that is?”
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Riddle’s appearance is perfect to a T. From his bow tie to his socks, the Heartslabyul housewarden chooses his attire to what is required; nothing is missing and nothing in excess. 
Basically, he wouldn’t have a spare jacket nor can he part away from the required blazer of his school uniform despite how he honestly wanted to. 
You understood his hesitance completely and didn’t probe further. Unfortunately, it left you noticeably shivering, and Floyd just had to mention your shivering form akin to a jittery guppy. Learning your predicament, the tall mischief-maker had a fun idea. 
Which led to you finally leaving the classroom after Floyd finished his giggling fit seeing you looking practically devoured by his jacket. Floyd is a tall eel merman so the length of the sleeves and hem were certainly longer than an average uniform. 
“Go ahead and wear it, just give it back later.” The sophomore graciously lent his jacket to you, but you suspected that he just wanted to prolong the humiliation.
At least you were grateful he wasn’t there to laugh at you when Riddle saw you in this mortifying position. The taller student would have probably coughed up his human lungs from laughing at your boyfriend's stunned expression. 
“I…What is…” Riddle was dumbfounded. The sight of his beloved being swallowed by a jacket was not something he suspected. It is an amusing image to see, but definitely odd. 
What’s the procedure for this? This was hardly appropriate school attire, but Riddle was stumped as to what to do next since he can’t think of a rule that addresses your lover being dressed in someone else’s jacket in a comical fashion. 
Despite unable to complete his prior sentence, you knew what Riddle wanted to know. “…It’s Floyd’s. He thought it’d be funny.” 
There was a burning sensation bubbling in Riddle when he thought about the Octavinelle rascal, how close and unnecessarily clingy he probably was to you as he took glee in his nonsensical pranks. Then, an unpleasant thought sat in the redhead’s mind as he watched you roll up the sleeves of Floyd’s jacket draped over your form. That eel gave you his jacket while Riddle, your boyfriend, didn’t.
"I supposed I should have expected this, given my choice."
Riddle let out a sigh before extending a hand to you, his face flushing a familiar red hue. “It may be redundant, but perhaps I could offer my own jacket? A warmer one at least, I wouldn’t want you to needlessly catch a cold.” 
Happily, you took the sweet redhead’s offer. Walking together hand-in-hand, Riddle thought he could spare you a scolding about forgetting your jacket in the first place, so long as you rectify his mood by wearing his jacket instead. 
“As your boyfriend it should be my duty to protect and care for you, no one else’s.”
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Cater would have no problem with sharing his jacket with you, if he can take some cute pictures of course. His wardrobe has a mixture of trendy and cool clothing due to his time at the Pop Music Club. It wasn't a matter of what he could offer but rather his time to even give this offer.
It was today of all days that he couldn’t find time to himself since there were some last-minute preparations needed for the Unbirthday party. You felt too guilty and nervous to suddenly ask your boyfriend for a jacket in all this commotion, so you tried to handle the cold without one. 
However, a classmate of yours was observant enough to notice your predicament and handed his jacket for the time being. 
You’ve stuck around the Unbirthday party, waiting for the festivities to settle and relax before scanning through the crowd to find the man with a beautiful shade of orange hair. 
But your boyfriend was quicker to find you as he surprised you first, covering your eyes from behind. “Guess who, cutie~?” 
Laughing, you didn’t bother to answer as you immediately spun around to leap straight into Cater’s arms, to which Cater happily returned in kind. 
“Looks like you got yourself some new threads. Almost couldn’t find you, cutie.” Referring to your newly acquired jacket, Cater could see the Heartslabyul emblem sewed onto its sleeve. Raising a quizzical brow, Cater questioned you, “Did you get it from the Adeuce duo?” 
His guess was wrong though as you told him a classmate of yours offered you his jacket, pointing him in the distance with his friends. Well now, that’s interesting. If it were one of his or your friends, that’s fine and dandy…but a random classmate…
Cater genuinely appreciated that his little underclassmen are chivalrous enough to help their fellow peers, but he admits that it’s a little different when it involves you. You’re special to him after all and he gotta make sure only he gets to give you the best boyfie treatment. 
With a smile on his face, Cater gently coaxed you out from the jacket before walking towards the oblivious student. “Let’s give him back his jacket, then we can head over to my room. I’ve got the perfect jacket for you to try out ♪”
“My cutie looks so ‘cammable in my jacket! This is definitely going on Magicam ♪ Oh, should we get matching couple outfits~?"
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“Are you ever gonna stop sulking and tell me what’s wrong, Ace?”
“...” 
It doesn’t matter how long you two were dating, Ace would tease you so much if you ask for his jacket, it’s almost not worth it. You could already hear the redhead’s cheeky voice in your head. “Aww, is my baby feeling cold? Do you need your amazing boyfriend to warm you up?” 
Feeling a little petty and not in the mood for his teasing, you instead asked Deuce if he could spare his extra jacket for you. To your luck, he had his track team jacket on hand that he could offer to you. 
Warm and cozy, you met up with Ace who, upon seeing you, unceremoniously draped himself over you as he let out a deep sigh. “Ahh, I was so cold today. Thank Sevens you’re so warm.” 
Rolling your eyes affectionately, you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back soothingly. Glad you didn’t ask for his jacket, then. 
But as Ace shifted around in your arms, he looked over your jacket from his angle and felt a sneaking suspicion that he had seen it before…but not on you. “Hey babe, where’d you get the jacket from?” 
“Oh, it’s Deuce’s track team jacket. I borrowed it ‘cuz I forgot mine back at Ramshackle.” 
Which led to this predicament in Ace’s room, with the pouty freshman giving you the cold shoulder. Granted, it’s rather cute to see your boyfriend react so childishly over a jacket, but you’d preferred some cuddles right about now. 
But Ace kept on with his act. It may seem like an overreaction but to Ace, knowing that you asked for Deuce instead of him first left a sour taste in his mouth and a blow to his ego. He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, ain’t he? 
You sighed, having no choice but to “right your wrong”, then. 
Crawling to where your lover was, you leaned into the crook of his neck as your arms circled his waist. “Don’t be mad, I’m so cold and I need my strong, handsome boyfriend to warm me up with hugs~ Aaacceee…” 
Still met with silence, you upped the ante and started to press small pecks against his neck where you felt were getting hot and bumpy from your touch. Hiding your satisfied smile, you continued your onslaught of praises and coos. 
Damn you and your cuteness, he thought. Breaking his cold facade, Ace groaned in frustration as he pulled you into his arms, giving into the cuddles you wanted. 
“If you need something, you’d better be thinking of me first before anyone else, especially Deuce. Have some faith in your boyfriend here.”
1K notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 7 months
Note
hi babe! was wondering if you could write something abt hotch + reader having their daughter’s first birthday and all of the team is there and it’s so cute and we get big brother jack.
maybe it including light bickering between them but it’s so clear they love each other so much still and it really is just pointless bickering. something fluffy for sure.
up to you! i trust your wonderful writing , thank u bunches !
- 🕷️ [is this anon emoji taken yet? oops if it is!]
take the bench
AHH that's so adorable 🥹 cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, domestic banter <3 and aaron being very dad <3
"are you kidding, look how cute!" you exclaimed, holding up the little outfit for all to see. your daughter's tiny hands immediately made a grab at it. "this is perfect for spring."
"after two boys, i can't express enough how fun it is shopping for a girl." jj gushed, resting her chin comfortably on her hand. "new section of the store unlocked."
all had gathered for baby girl's very first birthday, and it's been quite the eventful afternoon. lively conversations, a plentiful spread of food, cake on the horizon.
currently your daughter was sat comfortably on your lap, while you orchestrated the whole present-opening extravaganza.
at her young age, she could pull the tissue paper out of the gift bags as instructed, you and jack helped with the actual paper ripping as needed. whether it was you tearing off a starter piece, or jack proudly fulfilling his big brother duties - simply unwrapping it entirely himself and excitably showing his sister what she had received.
and meanwhile, aaron had the most dad job: trash bag duty. it was right up his alley naturally, being sure to punctually collect the scraps of paper before they touched the ground; preventing a mess at all costs.
which ultimately, led up to a new game.
"jack," aaron grabbed his son's focus, holding the bag open and jack caught on instantly. he grinned, balling up and throwing the tissue paper in hand in aaron's direction.
it started off gentle; quiet cheers when jack made the shot, not to mention the growing smiles on both ends. but then it soon turned into them firing off at each other, a bit too aggressive in the constraints of the living room. jack's laughter heightened with each throw, and henry even began to join in from time to time.
while still enamored by the gifts, all thanks to her brother and father's volume, baby girl's attention was quickly drawn to them. she let out a high pitched squeal every time wrapping paper flew over her head and through the air, attempting to wiggle her way off your lap.
as much as you loved aaron and jack carelessly enjoying themselves, and the addictive giggles emitting from your daughter, you also didn't want to take the focus away from everyone's generous gifts. they had spent time, and money, and deserved the proper recognition in return.
"aaron." you warned lightly, raising an eyebrow when his gaze shot to yours - a silent, but loving nonetheless, quit it.
"alright bud," aaron caught the last makeshift ball from jack with his hand, shoving it into the trash. "take the bench. the ref is giving me that look."
"but dad-"
"you heard me. and your mother."
jack let out a small whine, but promptly complied. he returned to the stack of his sister's presents, shifting through and looking for the next one to give her.
"for someone on clean up duty, you sure are making quite the mess." you teased once you caught aaron's eyes again, jack placing the next gift in front of you, "a larger one, if i may add."
"mess isn't in my vocabulary." aaron quipped right back, a delightfully smug look on his face. "you shouldn't be the one talking."
you cocked your head to the side, comically, "oh?"
"who's side of the closet is currently exploding?"
"who's sock drawer has seen better days?"
"the parents are fightingggg." derek stretched out his voice, murmuring humorously under his breath and nudging penelope with an elbow. while the soft tone, his statement was for all to hear.
now, it was your turn to (lightly, as to not jostle baby girl) chuck a ball of wrapping paper at him. derek ducked, barely, laughing loudly as he straightened his posture back upright.
"good try, but not good enough mamas. you gotta work on your aim."
"see, i'm not making a mess." aaron teased as he came near to grab it off the carpet, taking a detour as well to give your lips a quick peck. "you have that title perfectly under control, darling."
you playfully rolled your eyes, a smile dancing its way onto your lips. aaron couldn't resist the sight, kissing you once more. "oh bite me, hotchner."
946 notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 3 months
Note
strip poker that leads to threesome with death island older boyfriend leon and his best friend chris?! reader keeps on losing and ends up half naked and left in her panties while leon and chris are both fully clothed 🥹. + degration and daddy kink (for leon) !
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield
summary: a game of strip poker with your boyfriend and his friend ends exactly how you'd expect would
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, threesome, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, daddy kink
word count: 3k
a/n + tags: thank you so much for the request babe! i don't really know how to play poker so forgive any errors 🙏 also consider this to be sharing is caring chris & leon. i hope you enjoy how this turned out <3 @nexysworld @gor3-hound @pupthepokemonenthusiast
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"That's not fair!" you whine and gesture at the older man sitting to your left at the table.
When your boyfriend had told you he wanted to invite Chris over to hang out this evening, you'd been completely supportive. You were certain this meant they were wanting a replay of the explicit activities that had transpired between the three of you a few weeks prior. You imagined yourself sitting between them at dinner, feeling their lingering gazes, hearing their hinting words. They'd guide you off to the bedroom or even spread you out right there on the table and have their way with you. 
You fantasized about all the possibilities, but one thing that never crossed your mind was that they'd want to play a game of poker. Let alone a game of strip poker.
When Leon pulled out the deck of cards, you'd raised your eyebrows but tentatively agreed. They'd told you that whoever lost a hand would have to remove an article of clothing. You were interested, believing it wouldn't be too long before all three of you were naked and going at it. How wrong you had been though because in reality, it seemed this game did anything but speed things along.
It'd been over an hour, and Chris & Leon were both still fully clothed while you sat in your bra and panties.
What had prompted your outburst of whining was for the first time tonight, someone that wasn't you had lost a hand. You were excited that some progress was being made as Chris stood up to remove a piece of his clothing. But all he did was unbuckle his belt and slip it from between the loops on his jeans.
Both men chuckle at your frustration, and Leon smirks at you.
"Oh, calm down," he says, "Don't be a sore loser."
"It's not being a sore loser when you guys are like openly cheating!" you insist and lean back in your chair.
"How is he cheating, honey? He's removing his clothes isn't he?" he asks you.
"A belt isn't a piece of clothing! You didn't count my necklace when I picked that to take off," you say.
"Chris has to take off his belt to eventually get to his pants. If he had to take off both right now, that wouldn't really be fair," he says, obviously taunting you, "You didn't need to take off that necklace to get to any of your clothes."
"You made me take off both my shoes in one turn," you point out.
"Shoes are in a pair, princess. I only have one belt," Chris adds.
You huff and cross your arms, shooting the both of them with dirty looks. Despite your complaining, the three of you were all on an even playing field at the start of the game. You all had the same amount of items to lose. For the night, you had on your shoes and socks, shirt and skirt, and bra and panties. The guys on the other sides of the table had their shoes and socks, shirt and pants, and belt and underwear. You'd already lost four to put you at your remaining two.
You roll your eyes as Leon deals again, but you sit up to play. As it turns out, Chris coming up short before was a fluke because this time the bad luck was back on you. They both laugh as you throw your cards down and rub your eyes.
"You know, Leon, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you could've just asked instead of drawing it out with this stupid game," you say.
"But it's so much more fun this way," he grins.
You glare at him while standing up to remove your clothing.
"C'mon, sweetheart. What's it gonna be? That cute ass or those gorgeous tits?" Chris taunts, lowering his tone as his words become lecherous.
You can already feel the heat starting to creep into your face. Without a word you reach behind yourself and unclasp your bra, letting the straps slip over your shoulders as you slide the lacy garment down your arms. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you drop it to the floor with your other things.
You're met with a whistle from Leon that cements a flustered expression on your face. Chris wears a smug look, but you can see in his eyes how he enjoys taking in your figure. Your nipples begin to pebble when exposed to the cool air.
"No need to be shy, honey. It's nothing we haven't seen before," your boyfriend teases.
"Just deal again, so we can get this over with," you say.
Sitting down inadvertently pushing your breasts together, making them stand out a bit more as if crying out for attention from either of the sets of hands in the room. It's Chris's turn to deal, but he takes a moment longer to shuffle the cards up since his eyes linger on your chest.
Another round goes by, and it's another round you lose. At least you were out of the game now, but you weren't sure what that meant. The thought of being sent off to your and Leon's room with no reward spun you out of sorts.
"Bullshit! You guys are cheating," you exclaim and drop your cards for the final time.
Both of them laugh at you. Chris shakes his head and takes his winnings from the round while Leon looks over at you.
"Watch your mouth," he says. He's teasing, but he uses a stern tone that zaps arousal right through you, "Remember whose money you're playing with, angel."
You look down when he says that. It was true that you didn't lose anything but your dignity by playing this game. Leon put up the money for the both of you.
"Your money or not, that doesn't change how many times I lost. That's like unnatural amounts of bad luck," you pout.
"Have you ever considered you might just have the worst poker face in the world?" he goads.
"I do not," you respond instantly.
"Oh yes you do," Chris interjects, "You bite your lip whenever you think you can win. Your eyes dart around whenever you feel like you're gonna lose. We can basically read your cards just from hearing your voice."
You scoff at that, but you don't really have a defense. You'd never been a good liar, especially with Leon. He chuckles at the defeat written all over you before leaning a bit closer.
"How about you come sit with me, babydoll? You can be on daddy's team," he says and pats his lap.
The rush that goes through you pulls you from your chair and over to his. He holds your hips, smiling up at you and planting a gentle kiss right above your navel.
"You still lost last round though. Gotta take these off before we can continue," he says and snaps the elastic of your panties.
You drop them to the floor and kick them to the pile of clothing next to your chair. He then takes you in his arms and gets you situated on his thighs. You lean back against his chest while he deals himself and his friend back in.
The first game without you in it is uneventful. You sit with Leon and he occasionally lays a small smooch on your cheekbone, but that's about it. You just watch him play, but at least you're getting some sort of physical contact.
He ends up winning, and Chris slips off his shoes. In a gesture of celebration, his hands come to cover your breasts and give them a squeeze. His fingers dig into the plump flesh, his palms brushing against your hardened nipples.
"You paying attention? Maybe you can learn a thing or two about winning," he murmurs against the skin of your neck.
The next game starts up as Chris sets the deck down between them. This time is a lot more interesting for you. Leon sits there, stoic as ever, but his hand drifts downward. It finds its place between your thighs, his middle digit seeking out the familiar location of your clit.
The invasion causes you to squirm slightly, but a quick pinch to your inner thigh halts your movements. Chris's eyes are switching between his cards and your increasingly aroused appearance. Your boyfriend pays his leering no mind though. The rough pad of his fingertip swirls around your bundle of nerves.
You spread your legs a little to give him more room, and you can feel his face convey his amusement against your head. His fingers rub down over your entrance, dragging some slick up over your clit. His digits slide over it with ease now, flicking back and forth over the tiny bud with lazy precision. You purse your lips to try and stifle your whimpers but little squeaks make it through now and again.
"You don't have to keep quiet, sweetheart," he whispers in your ear, "I think those pretty noises might help daddy win."
He could tell from the way Chris was shifting in his seat that he was starting to get a boner. He was getting aroused himself, but he got you all the time. He had more control. He could stave off a full erection for a little while. His friend on the other hand - he was eager to try you again.
Your head tilts back with permission and a longing breath leaves your lungs. Your breasts rise and fall with the motion, those perky nipples bobbing in a way that nearly hypnotizes Chris. All the while Leon's hand remains dedicated at the apex of your thighs. He strokes you just you like before moving his finger down to your entrance and sliding it in, grinding his palm on your swollen nub simultaneously.
"Fuck daddy," you whimper and roll your hips.
"What is it, baby? Looks like daddy's gonna win, doesn't it?" he purrs.
You nod mindlessly, not paying attention at all to the game. But whatever daddy says goes. That much you knew.
Chris is so enthralled with the sight of you unraveling on his friend's lap that he folds without a second glance at his cards. Your boyfriend chuckles at him while working his finger to the knuckle within you.
"You must have had a pretty rough hand, man," Leon jokes.
Chris's eyes flit to him. "I'm just in the mood for a different kind of fun now," he says.
"You are?" he says. He then turns his gaze to you. "What about you, dolly? You wanna have some fun with daddy's friend now?"
"Yes," you choke out as your back arches away from his chest, his digit pushing up against your internal sweet spot.
"Yeah?" he coos, "What kind? You want Chris in your pussy again? Or something else?"
Decision making isn't your strongest skill while in this frame of mind. You try to come up with an answer. As usual, Leon swoops in for you and makes the save.
"How about you use that pretty mouth on Chris?" he murmurs in your ear, "Suck on his cock while daddy gets his prize for winning."
Chris stands up once the plan is set, his bulge visible at the front of his pants. Leon gestures for him to wait though. Instead of having the older man come to the two of you, he pulls his fingers out of you and spins you around, boosting you back onto the table. You push some of the cards behind you out of the way on your way down. You end up spread across the table, happy that part of your earlier fantasy was now coming true.
Now both men stand, looking down on your nude form and taking in every curve and crux. Leon reaches forward to grope one of your tits again. He gives it a good feel before cupping it and leaning down to press some kisses around the nipple. He kisses from there over to the valley between your breasts and down your tummy. All the affection gives Chris time to shed his pants and boxers and give his cock a few languid tugs.
Leon sits in his chair again, pushing your thighs apart and looking at your glistening cunt. He leans in and kisses your clit with a feather light touch.
"Look at Chris, baby. He's got your treat waiting for you," he mumbles as he wraps his arms around your thighs and delves into his favorite luxury in the world.
You mewl but do as he tells you and turn your head. Waiting for you is Chris's heavy, flushed cock, dripping precum from the swollen tip. Your mouth waters. You'd wanted it bad last time, and now it was all yours. He reaches down to pet your head.
"That look good, princess?" he coos in a low voice.
You nod lazily, your brain fogging up with the mist of lust. Your lips part, and he pushes his hips forward, slotting his length in your mouth. You moan around the shaft, your tongue laving against the veins. His cock was thicker than your boyfriends. The difference thrilled you. You have to stretch your jaw a bit to accommodate him as he works it into your mouth. Your fingers wrap around the part you can't take.
He groans and tilts his head back. He sinks as deep as he can, unable to get enough of that soft, wet orifice.
"Fuck, honey. You're a two for one. Perfect mouth to go with that perfect pussy," he grunts.
You nod lazily and begin bobbing your head best you can while laying on your back. Chris was kind of impressed by your dedication and focus considering Leon was between your legs devouring you as if you were his final meal.
His tongue slides from his mouth and delves into your awaiting entrance. He moans as he tastes you; sweet and rich, completely addictive. As natural as sucking cock came to you, Leon's propensity to eat pussy seemed to be innate. He keeps you pressed against his face, eating you out like you're the finest delicacy he's ever tasted.
The intensity of his efforts have you whining and drooling on Chris's dick, but you keep sucking. The older man's fingers soothingly rub the back of your neck and help to guide you and pace you. Pulling back a bit, you suckle on the tip and kitten lick the head, making him grit his teeth and will himself not to blow his load right there.
"Your daddy's taught you well, babydoll," he pants before pushing you forward again till his tip nudges the back of your throat.
Both you and Leon moan when you hear that. He laps at your cunt with increased fervor now. He flattens his tongue and laves it over your throbbing clit before wrapping his lips around the little bud. You jolt and your legs jerk, but his hold on you is firm.
"Let daddy have his prize, sweet girl. Wanna taste that cum," he mutters before returning all of his attention back to your pussy.
Your whole body shudders, but you keep going for Chris. He runs his free hand through his hair and wipes at the sweat beading on his brow.
"Don't think I'm gonna last too much longer, Leon," he informs the other man.
"She won't either," he tells him, indirectly giving him the go ahead to do as he pleases.
Chris moans while beginning to rock his hips back and forth. His thrusts stay gentle, but they're just what he needs to start working him to the edge. Meanwhile Leon has your hips and legs squirming as if they're running from the release destined to catch them. He keeps you in place and keeps twirling his tongue against you.
It's Chris who cums first. His eyes flutter closed and his hips sputter, making sure he's nice and deep in your mouth when ropes of cum fire out of him. He moans and fucks it all into your awaiting throat. It's warm and sticky, and you swallow it like the good girl you are.
His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you. He's slow to pull out. When he finally does, the tip rests against your lips and you give it a few kisses. A string of saliva connects the two things when he backs away for a moment to catch his breath.
As he calms down, you spiral further into the pits of euphoria. Your back arches off the table and you claw at it so much you feel like there's gonna be scratch marks when you're finished. Leon keeps on with his task like he's being paid. He strikes the perfect balance between playing with your clit and teasing your insides that has you cumming minutes later.
Chris watches from above as you yelp. He takes in every little switch of expression on your face. Leaning down from behind you, he kisses your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips. He captures all your lewd moans and whimpers. His nose brushes against your chin as his lips move with yours.
He cups and rubs your cheeks as you come down. Leon's movements slow down until he gives your cunt one last sloppy, lingering kiss and pulls away. Your slick covers his chin. He doesn't wipe it away before standing up and bending over to kiss you himself. You taste your pleasure on him.
Your head is still spinning as the men help you sit up on the table. Gentle touches come from all directions it seems, and you're barely able to discern who's who. It's a blissful confusion, and you wouldn't trade the feeling for anything. 
When your eyes refocus, your boyfriend's gaze back into yours. Chris's lips are on your neck, laying tender kisses up the column of your throat. Leon smirks at you as his finger runs down his jawline.
"Let's go upstairs, baby. I haven't fully enjoyed my winnings yet," he whispers before carting you off to the bedroom with Chris following behind.
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babygorewhore · 4 months
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Staying over
Frat! Rafe Cameron x autistic! Fem reader
Rafe brings you over to his apartment to stay over for the first time. W. C 1.4K
Warnings! Mutual masturbation! Choking! Spitting! Daddy kink! Unprotected sex! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx reader is autistic but it’s not explicitly said!
Your bag was stuffed with pajamas, medication, stuffed animals, and of course a charger for your headphones. It was the first night you were spending the night at Rafe’s apartment off the college campus as his girlfriend. You weren’t necessarily nervous staying with him. It was more about the change in routine being at someone else’s house. Rafe did pretty well in accommodating you and your needs but you were still apprehensive.
He opened the door for you, carrying your bag as you pulled off your headphones. He bought you a really expensive pair two weeks ago, one of the nicest gifts you’d ever received. But you loved giving him gifts too, especially hand crafted. You removed your shoes, matching socks padding the hardwood floor as you looked around. You saw your trinkets you made him on his desk and shelves.
“Aw, you have them up!” You grin and he nods.
“Of course I do, princess. My girls talent is always gonna be shown off.” You blush and look at the floor as you both walk into his bedroom. He sets down your bag and pulls you into a hug.
“You okay, baby? Hungry?” Rafe sets his chin on top of your head.
“No, I ate before you picked me up.” You answer back and he sighs.
“I love you, princess. I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”
You giggle and bury your face in his chest. “We talked last night. And this morning. And this afternoon-“
“So? I want you with me all the time. You’re my favorite person.” He mumbles, playing with your hair and he pulls back. Rafe’s blue eyes search yours but your gaze roam his face.
“Do you wanna get comfortable? Watch a movie or something?”
You playfully poke his shoulder.
“Is that just an excuse, Mr. Cameron? For you to get me in your bed?” He smirks and leans down.
“I don’t need an excuse for that, baby. But I don’t want to overwhelm you or anything.”
“You’re sweet, you know that, Rafe?” He breathlessly runs a hand through his hair, flustered by your compliment.
“Yeah, only for you though. But damn, babe. How much did you pack for tonight?” He gestures to your backpack. “You gonna change outfits every hour?”
You push him gently with a laugh. “Shut up! I need my things or I’ll lose my mind!”
Rafe sits on the bed, legs spread as he rests his elbows on the mattress. His shirt material bunching. “Easy with the violence, baby girl. Why don’t you get changed? Show me what you brought.”
You unzip your bag, pulling out a cute piece you bought the other day. The material was soft and comfortable. An oversized Ghostface night shirt that would reach your mid thigh with your black pair of shorts.
You quickly changed, his eyes sweeping over you as you stood in front of him. Rafe’s hand settled low on your hips, fingers playing with the material of your shorts. “Mmm, you’re so pretty, princess. You’re my fuckin dream girl.”
You bite your lip, feeling slightly anxious as you notice a change in sound. It must have been a dying battery somewhere but it was making your skin crawl. You wanted your headphones but you also didn’t want to seem like you wanted to tune him out.
“You don’t think I’m…weird, right?” You ask quietly and he frowns.
“Uh oh. I know that look. You want your headphones?” You grimace and nod.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying to tolerate more but-“ Rafe tugs your face to him, cupping your neck.
“Nah, baby. None of that. It’s okay. I know what I signed up for.” You smile gratefully as he brings them to you seconds later, securing them around your ears.
After needed time of quiet, you sat on his bed with your eyes shut as you held your plushie close to you and Rafe tried not to fidget too much. Finally, you removed your barrier and set them down on his side table.
“Can we watch something?”
“Of course, baby doll. Anything you want. Even the scary shit.” You immediately perk up, media being some of your special interests.
“Sinister?” You suggest and he grimaces before catching himself. “What? Is that one too much for my big scary boyfriend?” You tease.
“Fuck no. I wouldn’t be a fuckin dumbass and stay in the house like that dude did.”
“No, you’d offer the demon to snort a line of coke with you.” You dead pan and he laughs. Loudly.
“Jesus, you’re funny.”
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You were hyper focused on the movie as the night went on, informing Rafe facts you’d learned by hours of research on your own time and he listened best he could. But you didn’t notice his hand lingering around his crotch. Not until the movie was over and you had laid flat on your back with him next to you.
You felt him shift and you grew quiet. Your own needs rising as Rafe switched his LED lights on a dimmer setting. His fingers drifted to touch your arm, tracing your skin as he looked at you.
“You’re driving me insane, doll. I feel like I’m gonna fuckin bust in my pants.” You swallow and stare at the ceiling.
“Driving you insane?”
“Yeah. Your body is perfect. Shorts barely covering your ass and tits bouncing. You don’t even have to try. I’ve been thinking about you staying here for days. I jerk off about it.” He admits without an ounce of shame and your face heats up.
“Me too.”
“Yeah? You finger fuck that wet pussy thinking about me?” Rafe asks, his voice growing lower and you nod. Play with that pussy then you’re gonna cream on my dick.”
You suck your fingers, getting them damp before you tug down your shorts and panties. Your cunt clenches as you circle your clit, wetness pulsing as you feel Rafe take his cock in his fist. You slide two fingers in easily, your body accustomed to this as you pump them. You moan as you hear Rafe pant and feel him roll his hips.
“Ah, fuck. Something about you alone in your room, fucking yourself while you think about me.” He strokes harder before he finally breaks and pulls you on top of him.
Your legs straddle his lap, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes you down on his dick, he sits up and you tear off his shirt. Your fingernails lightly dig into his chest. You take him to the hilt, your right hand moving to play with his balls.
“Look at me,” He orders and you bounce on his cock, avoiding his eyes but he refused to let it go. “No. Keep your eyes on me, princess. I wanna see how it good it feels when you cream on my cock,” he growls and you obey him as you grind down.
He massages your tits as he helps you, your movements growing sloppy as you get closer. “Rafe-it feels so good-“ You stammer and he grunts.
“Yeah, babydoll? You like it when daddy fills you up? You like being a greedy little slut for me?” You nod with a whimper and he slaps your ass hard. “Cum for me, princess. And then I’m gonna fucking pound you until you’re screamin.”
You cum all over his dick, whining as you shake and your vision goes white but he’s relentless as he flips you on your back. His hand around your throat. He lifts one leg over his shoulder, getting a deeper angle and thrusts harder.
You shriek from overstimulation but your hands clutch his shoulders. “Open your mouth,” He says and you do. He spits inside, “You’re such a good girl, baby. Taking me like a fucking whore,”
“Mhm, needed this so bad, daddy. I want you to cum in me, want it to spill out and soak the bed.” You beg and he moans, tightening his grip on your neck, keeping your eyes on him.
“That’s it, princess. Proud of you for talking through it,” He huffs before he cums in you, the headboard slamming against the wall and your pussy squelches. He lets go of your throat, hands on either side of your head as he fucks through his climax.
“Fuck, princess. Squeezing me so hard, your cunt feels so good,” He praises and you blink rapidly as he pulls out, pumping his dick and cum drips on your tits. “Messy little slut. I want you to get on all fours. Gonna cum on that pretty tattoo on your back.”
Tagging @marchsfreakshow @drewstarkeyslut @slvt4jamesmarch @redhead1180 @rafesthroatbaby @rafescurtainbangz @rafeinterlude @gri959 @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess
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moonstruckme · 10 months
Note
Idk if this is even enough for a request but I would love to see poly marauders w a reader who takes extremely hot showers, like maybe she’s already in the shower when the boys come home and they go to join her but start squealing and they jump back out, pouting at her about “it’s too hot! You’re boiling, you’re going to pass out in there” etc. I just think it’s funny and I love a good hot shower. (Bonus pts for plus size reader!! Not sure how that would be important but I’d love it if it was!)
Thanks for requesting sweetheart! I couldn't really find a way to make it plus!size reader without describing her body a lot but that felt sort of weird and I ended up cutting most of it, so unfortunately it's only plus!size reader if you squint a bit
cw: non-sexual (okay, some sexual, but it's only lightly implied) nudity
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 628 words
Steam whooshes out of the bathroom when James opens the door. The mirror is completely fogged up and he’s immediately warm, but that’s alright, because he’s shrugging off his shirt anyway. 
“Hi, angel,” he calls over the spray.
“Jamie?” Your voice echoes off the tile a second before your head pokes out past the curtain. “When did you get home?”
“Just now, but Sirius and Rem are already in the kitchen making dinner.” Well, Remus is making dinner. Sirius is providing commentary. “Can I join you in there?” 
Your smile comes quick and devious, water dripping from your chin. “Sure you can.” 
James hurries out of his pants and socks, pulling aside the curtain. “Alright, scoot ov—ah!” He hardly gets one leg under the spray before he’s jumping back. “Shit that’s hot! What the hell, lovie? Are you trying to cauterize yourself?” 
You laugh like he’s overreacting, which James knows for certain he is not. Steams pours out so thickly from behind the curtain it’s a wonder there’s any water left to wash yourself with that hasn’t instantly evaporated. “What’s wrong with a hot shower?” you ask. 
James doesn’t know how to answer that. “Hot” doesn’t even begin to describe the temperatures you’re subjecting yourself to. He hears footsteps in the hall, and a second later Sirius is opening the door, Remus behind him. 
“Did someone yell?” 
“Yeah, me,” James says, accusatory, “when I nearly had the skin scorched clean off my leg.” 
Sirius raises a single brow. “That scream was awful girlish, Prongs. You sure it was you?” 
“Prick,” James laughs. “Go on, feel the water. It’s like she’s punishing herself in there!”
Remus steps past Sirius, sticking his hand under the showerhead. His eyebrows raise, and he draws it back (albeit with much more dignity than James had withdrawn, but he’d been caught by surprise). “That really is quite warm, dove. I can barely hold my hand under there, how’re you doing it with your whole body?” 
You shrug, turning towards them, and it occurs to James that he and you are both naked while your other two boyfriends are fully clothed. There was a time where you would’ve tried to hide yourself from them in this state, and he’s hit with a rush of gratitude that that time has passed. Still, he doesn’t quite like the look of you like this, steam rising off your body as water that may as well be magma slides over your curves. James can’t believe you when you say that doesn’t hurt. 
“It’s nice,” you say, like some kind of psychopath. “I don’t know, I like it.”
“Sweetheart, you could pass out from heat like this,” Remus frets.
“Is it really that bad?” Sirius is skeptical, until Remus presses the palm that he’d held in the water to his face. His eyes widen. “Fuck, how can you stand that, babe?” 
“You guys are wimps,” you tell them, rolling your eyes. “It’s cold outside, and I fancied a hot shower. Sue me.”
“But this is more than hot,” Remus says. James nods ardently. “You’re really telling me you don’t even feel lightheaded?” 
“I don’t,” you promise, but James isn’t having it. He pulls the curtain aside, gripping the fat of your hip (“Fuck, Jamie, you’re freezing!”) to reach around you and adjust the water temperature. 
“There,” he says. “Let it cool down a bit, and you won’t melt your brain, plus I’ll be able to get in with you. Okay?” 
Remus nods satisfiedly, hurrying back towards the kitchen to attend to whatever he’s likely left on the stove, but you pout. “It’s going to be cold,” you complain. 
“I’ll be in there with you,” James reminds you, grinning when you brighten. “I’ll make sure you don’t get too cold, lovie.”
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