#anyway I will find a way to double down on the feet thing in an artsy way.
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stairain · 11 months ago
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Conditioned response
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You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.
Warnings: Sub Spencer, Mean reader, conditioning, forced orgasm, cumming in pants, dry orgasm, crying, begging, manipulation, ropes. 
WC: 1.2K
Training Spencer to cum on command was a labor of love. Having spent hours studying Pavlov and Skinner just to be able to make a  mess of your poor boyfriend on whim.
Spencer was almost unrecognizable, his face a deep shade of red and pink, slathered in a dripping layer of sweat, and a puddle of his own spend at his feet. 
Throwing his head back and swallowing breathlessly, he looks to you and pleads.
“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please?”
His rug burned wrists desperately trembling in their binds as he tries so hard to be good for you. It’s wearing him down, you’ve made him cum at least three times now simply by the snap of your fingers. 
It wasn’t this easy at first, and it didn’t even register what you were doing when you finally gave him permission to cum and just so happened to snap at the same time. 
No, it took a while. After the next few times, it confused him, he ignored it, but then it became an expectation to him. 
Whenever your hand was tightly wound against the sensitive tip of his dripping cock, he’d look to you with those desperate pleading eyes before mustering up the courage to beg for release. 
After he’d ask, he wouldn’t wait for your call, no, instead he’d look down at wherever your free hand was. 
As a man of extensive knowledge, especially to things pertaining something as simple as conditioning, Spencer knew these things worked. 
He just hadn’t even expected himself to be the lab rat in your little experiment. 
But now, you’d find him adjusting just fine. At least to your standards. 
As soon as he arrived home, you had dragged him to the garage. He’d made no attempt to stop you, even as you sat him down on a cold metal chair. 
He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when you began to tie him to aforementioned chair. 
Spencer knew better than to question you, and he knew better than to speak without being spoken to. So when he dared open his mouth to talk, you’d quickly snapped your fingers, the sound reverberating through the empty, cold garage. 
Whatever word he tried to say had been quickly replaced with a weak whimper. You let out a small huff of amusement, you’d expected this. 
The dull brown cotton of his slacks were out to get him, he was convinced. You’d had enough of an ego boost knowing he just came untouched, but as the light fabric began to darken as it soaked with semen, you just couldn’t help yourself. 
“Look at you, making a mess so easily.”
You almost scoff, your words taunting and mean.  This was your own doing, how could you possibly blame him for this? But you did anyways, and he hung his head in shame as he tried to ignore the sticky spend seeping into his briefs. 
“I-I’m sorry, couldn’t help it.” 
It’s recommended to ask for permission before you beg for forgiveness, but you made sure he’d never be able to attempt the former. 
“Tell me what you know about counterconditioning, Spence.”
You say as you crouch down in front of him, granting the littlest bit of kindness as you start to undress him and rid him of his soiled clothes. 
The brunet stumbles over his words at first, but answers nonetheless. 
“I-It’s a way to reverse the effects of classical conditioning, associating a set conditioned response—“
You snap. He cums.
Spencer almost doubles over in shock as he shoots another load of sticky seed into his pants. 
“With another un—fuck—unconditioned stimulus.” 
You nod as you pull his cum drenched briefs and pants down his legs, and look up to him with eyes that render him absolutely useless. 
“And how would I do that, to stop this?”
You emphasize your question with the swipe of your fingers across his slick covered tip. His thighs twitch around your head and he licks his lips, trying to take back what little composure he’s ever had.
“Y-You could do that–“ His eyes flicker down to where you’re touching his cock “A-And stop snapping. E-Eventually there won’t be an association between the stimuli.” 
Spencer speaks with an urgency that’s only found in those who know they’re done for. 
“But you don’t want that, do you?”
Your voice drips in a malicious seduction, tilting your head to the side as if to feign an innocence only he should have. 
It doesn’t take more than a second for him to shake his head. Even with his cock aching and his thighs sticky, his need to obey you was stronger than the pain of his self. 
So when you smile up at him, looking genuinely proud, it makes the ache worth it. He smiles back, albeit crooked and broken. 
The moment doesn’t last long, of course it doesn’t. As soon as he saw you raise your hand and press your fingers together, his eyebrows wrung together and his thighs quickly shut. 
It was fascinating, it was as if his body just couldn’t stop itself. Even as only a few spurts shot out of his throbbing cock. Thick white drops of cum dripped down the veiny shaft, falling all the day down his balls and onto the chair beneath him. 
Spencer throws his head back and lets out a strained moan, one that was full of pain and little pleasure. 
It hurt so badly, and he could barely keep up. You were simply torturing him because you could.
“I-I can’t, please.”
He begs, shaking his head when you stand up from your knelt position and look down on him like he was a filthy animal. 
“I’ve only touched you once, and here you are cumming without my permission three times. How selfish.”
You degrade him, reducing him to the villain in the scenario. Tears begin to stream down his face and he can feel his heart twisting in his chest. 
You’re right, he’s failed you more times than acceptable. He should feel ashamed.
“I-I know, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
Spencer practically sobs, his entire body trembles as it aches with the aftershocks of three forced orgasms. 
A small huff expels from your nose and you shake your head. It was unfair, really, how easily manipulated he was. 
It was your fault after all, but what was it worth if not the satisfaction of reducing this know-it-all of a man down to desperate pleads and animal-esque behavior? 
You’ve got your hand held up behind your back, he knows it. He knows you too well to ever even entertain the idea you’d ever listen to him, but he’s hopeless enough to try anyways. 
A sob wrecks through his throat and he feels as though he can barely breathe. 
“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please? I-I can’t do this anymore.” 
It’s cruel, the way you laugh in his face as he drowns in his tears. How foolish of him to even ask.
Maybe you were being a touch too cruel, but it was all worth it the moment you saw genuine fear fill his eyes and the slight shake of his head as he begged you one last time to end it. 
But he knew better, and he couldn’t help himself as the hand behind your back echoed a snap right through his ears and out his length. 
You see the way his mouth drops open in a shrill cry, and relish in the sight of nothing coming out of his poor cock in a torturous dry orgasm.
His body’s given you everything it possibly can, and yet, you just can’t help yourself. 
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the-court-of-dreams · 18 days ago
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ONYX STORM SPOILERS
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Quotes that KILLED ME in Onyx Storm
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1)
To the ones who don’t run with the popular crowd, the ones who get caught reading under their desks, the ones who feel like they never get invited, included, or represented. Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.
Books have always been a safe place for me. I still remember picking up The Hobbit when I was still a kid, closing my bedroom door and going on an adventure. I'm almost 25 now and I still love going on adventures. From magic schools to institutes, hidden cities to castles, forests to enormous capitals. With cars and ships and horses and broomsticks and dragons. Every story, a new adventure. Every book, a new journey. Oh, how I love travelling!
I only ever had one friend who loves reading as much as I do and our conversations about books, the hours we spend making theories, and analysing everything that happened... they are some of my most beloved moments. ( @strovilos , you are the joy of my life) My other friends don't understand as much, it's okay. I' ve always been the kid hiding books under my desk, staying up past my bedtime with a light under the covers. So yeah... that dedication really got me.
I was invited to places, but I almost never felt included while being there. That was okay too.
I always preferred riding dragons anyway.
2)
Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything. He channeled from the earth to save me, and I’ll scour the world until I find a way to save him right back.
Wow, that didn't take long at all, huh? Straight in the fucking feels.
3)
I could reach the rank of Maven, lead armies of dark wielders against everyone we care for, and watch every vein in my body turn red as I channel all the power in the Continent, and I would still love you. What I did doesn’t change that. I’m not sure anything can.
Such a good start for me and my fucking heart. Thanks, Rebecca... I really appreciate it.
4)
If I’m to be court-martialed for helping Braxtyn defend his people, then I shall welcome the trial. All who channel from dragon and gryphon alike should flourish under the wards, and now Aretia will be that haven should one of the others ever return.
Lyra... I fucking stan!
5)
So with all the love in my heart, put your fucking uniform on, because we need you.
Look, I'm not saying that Ridoc is my favourite character in this book... but... Ridoc IS my favourite character in this book.
I died with the whole squad dynamic, but the four of them will always hold a special place in my heart, I fucking love these kids.
6)
Even hundreds of miles away, he’s still taking care of me and doesn’t even know it.
I KNEW this godsdamned book would be full of angst....BUT DID IT HAVE TO BE ALL OF IT??? DID IT REBECCA????
7)
You might be angry when you realize I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. But it’s only because I no longer fully trust my ability to walk away.
—Recovered Correspondence of His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor, to Cadet Violet Sorrengail
FUCK ME MAN....Come on...WHYYYYYYY????
8)
But the thought of you being out there, beyond the wards, facing down a known attack of venin, triggered something in me I’ve never felt before. It was hotter than rage, and sharper than fear, and cut deeper than helplessness, all because I couldn’t get to you.
Fuck you.
9)
I would have killed anything and anyone in that moment to reach you. No exceptions. I would have channeled every ounce of power beneath my feet without hesitation if it would have landed me at your side.
Double fuck you.
10)
If I’d been there, beyond the wards, I would have drained the very earth to its core to keep you safe.
TRIPLE FUCKING FUCK YOU!!!!
11)
Pain isn’t new to me, Jack. She’s an old friend I spend most of my days with, so I don’t mind if she sings to you.
Violet Sorrengail... you are the most badass bitch to ever badass. (I feel like that's SUCH a Remi thing to say. Fucking finally.... iykyk. Shout out to @skyfallscotland for writing fucking masterpieces. Getting notifications from you always makes my day. If any of you are into fanfcition, i STRONGLY recommend reading everything this girl has written. You can start with Fear and Flame. Thank me, and HER, later.)
12)
“We live by the Codex—” I try again.
“I live by you. When have I ever given a fuck about the Codex or the Code of Conduct?” He cradles my face and leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”
I love them so much it hurts.
13)
Love of my life. You have nothing to be jealous of.
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
14)
“There’s no magic here.” He tugs me against him. “No power. No lure. No taunting reminder that I can save everyone if I just reach for it and take what’s offered. It’s only…peace.”
For the first time since fetching the luminary, I seriously debate Tecarus’s offer.
When I tell you this book was PAINFUL for me....I'M NOT FUCKING KIDDING.
15)
"...Sgaeyl…" He glances up at the trees as if he can see her in the sky above us, a look of longing on his face.
If I had a dollar for everytime this book broke my fucking heart.
16)
“My consort,” Xaden replies casually. “Violet Sorrengail.”
I'm deceased.
17)
I can’t quit watching Xaden’s eyes in case their flecks change back to gold whenever I see him during Signet Sparring.
They never do.
Like my heart will never again NOT be broken for these two.
18)
“The pain. The mess. Give it to me. I’ll hold it. I know that sounds ludicrous, but I’ll find a way.�� I lace our fingers. “I will hold everything you don’t want to feel because I love every part of you.”
This ship... this fucking ship...
19)
“Seems Catriona has found someone worth lagging behind for.”
I loathed her in the previous book....but gods did the poor girl go through it in this one....
20)
“There is no cure for me.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s why you have to become better than me. There’s only you.”
I seriously don't know why I'm putting myself through this torture.
21)
When things get…shitty, I hope you can look down at it and imagine us sitting there together when this is all over. That’s the vision I’m going to cling to: you and me, holding hands, looking over the city.
This right here broke whatever soul I thought I had left. It just hurts so much when the characters cling to a future that I fucking know isn't going to happen.
22)
It’s almost like this room is removed from time itself, a tiny corner of the world where we simultaneously live together yet don’t.
Rebecca literally...WHYYYYY????
23)
I didn’t reach for any form of power because even in that state, I knew it could take me back to day zero, and day zero doesn’t give me you. I clawed my way back to myself and left.
Screaming, crying, throwing up.
24)
While most deities allow temple attendants to choose their timeline of service, only two require a lifetime of dedication: Dunne and Loial. For both war and love change souls irrevocably.
For the love of Gods, please let this be some kind of clue.
25)
I love you more than this city. Do not die defending it.
Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.
26)
At some point I’ll stop looking for her, right?
I KNOW Andarna had her reasons... but my girl Violet did not deserve that after everything she's been through.
27)
His smile instantly becomes a core memory.
MY smile instantly becomes a core memory....as in I don't think I'll have one again.
28)
You’re not a weapon of destruction. You’re not venin. You’re the artery power chooses to flow through. You’re life.
I fucking ship this SO MUCH. I love me some enemies to lovers, slow burn, full of angst shit.
29)
When push comes to shove, I'm not the best of us. She is.
YES VIOLET, THAT'S YOUR BESTIE!!!!!!
30)
“That’s a little menacing,” I admit to Feirge. “Then let us be menaces,”
I ADORE multiple povs. I've been waiting for Rhi's and Imogen's pov for 3 books, and I was NOT disappointed. Wish I could have more of them though.
31)
She’ll rip the very sky apart before she and Glane accept defeat.
GO IMOGEN! GO! GO! GO!
32)
The flame of perpetual rage that lives in my chest burns hotter. Fuck that horde. Fuck the venin who ride them. Fuck that unholy vortex of a tornado at the end of the northern field, and fuck the orders to stay grounded in these winds.
FUCK! I love this girl so damn much.
33)
I’m glad it’s you with me. Parapet to Malek’s own doorstep. I’m so sorry I have to go first this time.
To be honest, I didn't really care about Quinn for three books now... but I SOBBED in these 3 pages.
34)
And you should tell him, Gen. Tell him, and you find some happy.
And the fact that she preached for my second favourite ship of the series with her dying breath??? Miss Quinn, you have my heart. I didn't care for your existence for three books, but man, did you get me in the end.
35)
“We made it a good one.”
This one cut me so fuckign deep I had to stop for a good ten minutes. I did not see it coming. I did not think I'd care. I still don't understand why I did. But I really, really did.
36)
“I’m not leaving you!” He leans in and slides his hand behind my neck. “I’m not leaving you, Imogen,” he repeats, softer this time.
If these two don't end up together, I'm gonna make it everybody's problem. I PROMISE!
37)
“You have been the gift of my life,” I tell Tairn.
I've read some theories that Tairn will die in the end... First of all...HOW DARE YOU? And second of all... REBECCA DON'T YOU DARE, I WILL-
38)
She was the first to choose me, to elevate me above all others, the first to see every ugly side of me and accept it all, and every single person in this fucking canyon will die before they remove a single one of her scales.
The fact that Xaden channeled for Violet but really turned to save Sgaeyl... I did not expect that. And although it was painful as fuck to read through... to me it was perfect and a job really well done.
39)
Shadow brings quiet. My soul departs like pieces of ash from a fire, flaking free and drifting away as power consumes the space it once inhabited. I’m no longer on the ice—I am the ice.
Xaden...baby...no....
40)
Save them, the last remaining pieces of me beg, holding on with teeth and claw to keep from being torn away, too.
I will never... ever... recover from this.
41)
“I love you.” Violet’s voice cracks the cold, and a silken thread of warmth wedges itself in the opening before it seals shut, locking it in place.
No. Wait. I grab for that thread with desperate hands, clawing to keep her as more of my pieces are blown away, lost to the void. She is warmth and light and air and love.
This was so fucking painful to read I literally have no fucking words.
44)
I love her. That is the emotion I cling to, the fire of pure power burning at the feeling’s edges, and I know if I take it any further, it will be the next and final piece to float away.
😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔
45)
“What did you do?” My head snaps toward Imogen, and a deep sense of foreboding takes root in my chest. She slowly lifts her gaze to mine.
“What you asked me to.”
How THE FUCK am I supposed to wait who-knows how long for the next damned book???
All in all, I really enjoyed this. I never got bored and I didn't mind the side missions at all.
The xaden×violet of it all shattered my heart. I definitely loved their relationship more than the previous books (It really reminded me of their dynamic from one of the best pieces of literature I've ever had the pleasure to read, a fanfiction piece called Storm in the quiet by @justallihere. She is truly the best.).
I just knew this was coming, and all of their trying would lead to this... it tore my heart apart. I love heavy angst in my books, but it hurts like a motherfucker when you have to wait for the next book in a series. I've promised myself I would never start an unfinished series ever again but oh well....
I loved the side characters so much, and I feel like I got to see them more and get to know them better in this one.
Ridoc is the best comic relief character I've read in a long, long time, and I love him so much (I almost had a heart attack when I thought the cook actually stabbed him.)
Aaric is a little shit and I'm so here for it. His exceptionally well written character was one of the highlights of the book for me.
Imogen and Garrick are my babies and I want them to end up together SO FUCKING BAD.
Also, the Drake and Mira crumbs? Chef's kiss.
I have to admit I was very fed shipping wise.
Unexpectedly, I also laughed my ass off in this book... so I'll probably make another post with all the times I died of laughter. Who would have thought?
My soul will definitely need mending and a good dose of fanfiction to get me through the long wait. To the people who are gifted enough to write these fanfcitions, you are my heroes. Cheers!
Final thought, Xaden Riorson, THE MAN that you are.
Accurate image of me after finishing Onyx Storm:
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misctf · 5 months ago
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I had a dream once I found a pair of cleats and tried them on, and transformed into a big, dumb, horny football jock, then came load after load of cum , all sweaty and drooling as my new team arrived. How I wish I could experience that, do you know a way?
Huh, a dream you say? And just once? Part of me doubts that. And I can tell by how you’re blushing that you’ve likely had this dream a few times. And each time, you’ve woken up with your boxers soaked with jizz. Okay, okay... maybe I didn’t need to call you out like that. Anyway.... A big, dumb, horny football jock. Look, I’m not here to judge, but are you... of course you are.... Sigh.... Well, I’ll stop wasting our time. Risks yada yada, things going wrong yada yada... You get the point. Now follow me...
You follow close behind as I lead us through a few pairs of double doors. I have to unlock a few more doors and suddenly, we find ourselves within a large warehouse. There are thousands of articles of clothing. Underwear, socks, athletic shirts... you look around in awe.
Yes, I know, very impressive. We have a lot of magical items that we’ve collected over the years. Let me just grab a pair of gloves... Some of these items are quite potent actually. Like just a touch and bam! Stupid jock! Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but... And here we go! A pair of red football cleats... Just like in your dream? Well, what can I say, I’m a miracle worker. Okay, I’ll put them down right here. Look at that, they’re brand new too, they even have the paper still stuffed in them... Just give me one second, I have to grab a special tool. I can tell this pair is quite potent.... Wait... Don’t try to remove the paper with your... Fuck.... Didn’t I say... Hey! Don’t get too close!
The cleats are stuck around your hands. You’re shaking your hands, looking up at me desperately. No matter how much you flail, they seem locked in place. You’re breathing heavily. A sense of panic filling you. Something feels very wrong. You feel warmer and you’re sweating profusely.
This is very bad... Okay, give me a second to just... what do you mean your hands hurt? Oh fuck... Ok not good, not good... I need to...
You cry out as you feel your hands start to shift and change within the cleats. It feels like your hands are lengthening, while your fingers are painful shortened. But it’s not just your feet. You watch as your forearms start to shift and change. Packing on muscle that more resembles thick calves rather than forearms.
Oh yeah, these cleats are quite potent. Okay... uh, I would be lying if I said I’ve dealt with this before. This is something we in the business call a... okay yeah, maybe I’ll spare you the details. But... Oh careful now!
Your legs suddenly give way and you’ve fallen onto you’re abdomen. You let out another cry as your arms start to shift and change even more. They’re forced above your head and you yelp as thick muscle starts to fill in. Your once mediocre arms are now a set of two built legs, crushing your head in between new thighs. But the pain in your new legs pales in comparison to the feelings from your dick. It’s throbbing in a mixture of pain, then pleasure. You feel nauseous as the room is filled with the sounds of your body cracking and shifting. Yet you moan as your body continues its metamorphosis.
Oh fascinating... I’ve never seen this before... So the pecs become the abs, and the abs become the pecs. Fuck, they're getting huge too... What am I talking about? It’s uh... oh! Give me a second! Well, hello there... Huh, still barely a whisper... Who am I talking to? Well, uh... it’s complicated. But...
You yelp when you suddenly feel your body push itself up. You’re forced to look down at the floor, and it feels like you’re doing a handstand. You clearly see the red cleats,  and the firm calf and thigh muscles that used to be your arms. You try to crane your neck to look up, but are unable to.
Well fuck... this is, uh... What did you say? I can’t... your voice is a bit garbled now... Something salty? Yeah... I think that might be semen... Really? Come on, isn’t is obvious? Are you getting the idea now? Oh, don’t look at me like that, there were risks...
You yelp as a firm hand suddenly wraps around your neck. You’re afraid you won’t be able to breath, but instead, you just feel the salty liquid leave your lips. And as the hand moves up and down, more of it dribbles from your mouth. You try to speak, but you find your mouth has been forced to remain in a small “O” shape, no matter how desperately you try to move it. Worse yet, you watch as your hair falls from your head, decorating the floor beneath you.
Yeah, I doubt he’s gonna be able to talk much at this stage... So what did you say your name was....? Brett? Makes sense, you definitely look like a Brett. I gotta say, watching your arms grow in was quite the sight. And the muscle here... your biceps are so firm... oh sorry... right I’ll let you finish...
The deep moans that fill the air are not your own. You’ve never heard moans like this before. But soon your vision and hearing dwindle significantly. Instead, all you can feel is the rough calloused hand that jerks your hardened body, as well as the stream of cum that’s leaving your new mouth. And as the pressure builds and builds, so does the pleasure. It’s numbing. Numbing to the point you feel your complex thinking dwindle. All you can focus on is pleasure. Anyway, anyhow. And then you feel it. Cum bursts from your new mouth, and Brett lets out a loud moan, falling back against the wall. You feel your body softening, your mind only able to focus on your need for more.
Okay... I guess I’ll be cleaning that up... Oh? What’s happening? The room is spinning and... Wait, where are we...? The locker room? Damn, those cleats were potent... Oh sorry, you gotta get ready for your game. And I can hear your teammates coming in... Wait... You’re already getting hard again? And you’re already leaking? Shit... Well, I guess this isn’t what we expected. But, you’re certainly a horny, dumb football jock. And you’re certainly drooling there quite a bit, just in time for your team to see.... Well I guess I should go....Huh? Wait for you...? After the game...? In the locker room...? Sigh.... you stupid jock types are my weakness... see you soon...
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fuctacles · 5 months ago
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wiggly wormy wednesday
Thanks @formosusiniquis for tagging me!!! Here's a thing inspired by that one fanart of Eddie in that one t-shirt that I can't find now
Steve works during the summer as a pool boy. 
It's a good ego boost as he's been in high demand among the housewives in the area. His schedule is full, to the point he has to start declining some offers to have time for himself. When his phone rings with another job offer, he doesn't reject it right away because he's startled to hear a man's voice for a change. Then he hears he'll double the salary and he agrees. 
The address he jotted down leads him to the oldest mansion in town, dark and looming over the neighborhood. He understands the raise in money now and is glad that he told Robin where he'll be. 
The gate is open, so he pushes his way through the artfully neglected garden towards the door, where a note is waiting for him.
You'll find cleaning tools in the shed. Knock on the back door when you're done.
Steve knew of eccentric old people but this one was slowly taking the cake. He rounds the estate to find the pool behind it, and the cake is pulled out of his grip. Who in their right mind paints the pool red? 
By the state it's in, it probably hasn't been used in weeks. The surface is fully covered in leaves and twigs, and the tiles around it are covered in grime. It's a wild 180 after being called to clean pools just so he can hand out sodas and towels to a group of old ladies, but he rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.
Every now and then, he looks up from his work, expecting to find someone ogling him, but he never finds anyone. It's a weird thing to consider a constant of his job, but he came to expect it. Double-checking that he's really alone, he starts humming to himself to make the time go faster. If he's ever called here again, he might take a radio or a walkman with him. 
He's done surprisingly fast, with the sun still high when he goes to knock on the back door. His curiosity is through the roof to see what kind of person his employer is. 
He hears a click by his feet and when he looks down, he realizes the cat door has spat out an envelope. Inside he finds his payment and a note. 
Will double it if you come at 5pm next week
So Steve does, not worried much because the sun is still up, even if it casts ominous shadows around the mansion. 
In one of these dark corners, he spots a lawn chair, the shade doubled with a huge umbrella over it. He wonders if this time, some rich lady is going to join him. Or, the tiny bi-curious bone in his body supplies, the guy who hired him. For the time being, he focuses on his task. 
It's so dark, that he almost misses it. But when he does a double take as he's swiping the poolside, he yells. 
On the chair in the double shade, wearing all black, a huge straw hat, and sunglasses, sits a figure. Steve's eyes are confused as to why they're seeing a black-and-white picture in the middle of his technicolor world. 
The figure raises its hand, making its features more distinguishable. 
"Sorry!" says a voice Steve vaguely recognizes from the phone call. "Don't mind me, just getting my money's worth!" The man grins, sharp and bright, and relaxes against the chair with intent to stay, a glass of wine held in his hand.
Steve considers him for all of two seconds, before grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt. Fuck it. This is what half of the job is about anyway.
The fabric hits the ground, and he gets a surprisingly goofy whoop of approval. 
tagging if u wanna join: @stevesjockstrap @yesdangerpls @stevieharringtonwifeguy @doublecherrypiediscosuperfly @adverbally
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nvuy · 9 months ago
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nuvy. nuvy have you heard of the boothill leaks.
YES i did *salutes*
boothill story leaks under cut;
girl dad girl dad
soooo what about boothill falling in love with a single parent with a daughter hmm hmm
like god if he doesn’t just accidently run into the kid and she squeals over him because “hey!! cool robot man!!” and you chase her down and apologise.
he freezes, because your daughter looks so much like his did.
same hair colour, same eye colour, same energy that he could barely keep up with, just learning to walk on two feet properly and string together words to form simple sentences.
it absolutely destroys him. in the worst and best way possible. especially since your daughter practically develops an admiration for him on the spot, begs to be carried, and you’re confused because “sweetie, you shouldn’t be talking to strangers.”
like like.,,,, example……..
Something small and warm wraps around his hand and Boothill glances up quickly from his lap.
There was a little girl searching for his fingers, barely three years old by the looks of it. Pretty tresses of black hair flowing in the wind near the shoreline, sniffling and barely standing on short wobbly legs.
“I need help,” she hiccups, and Boothill melts on the spot. So small and helpless, like a baby bird away from its mother’s nest. “I can’t find my–”
And of course, he stands up, dusts off his pants, and offers her his hand. He guides her away from the beach back towards the market where crowds of people swarm the stalls.
It’s nighttime, cold, and definitely no place for a little girl to be by herself.
“What’s your parents look like, princess?”
He busies himself searching for any targets that would make sense given the girl’s prattling of your appearance down to the colour of your shoes—“White. Like mine.” Hers light up purple with each step she takes—too many faces, too many people.
He stands to give up when he hears somebody frantically running around like a lunatic to every single store, asking if they’ve seen a little girl with light up sneakers wandering about.
“Calm down. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” he heard one of the assistants try.
Another shopkeeper offers a pitiful frown and shakes their head.
Boothill nudges the girl, squeezing her small hand in his, careful of his strength around fragile bones. “Is that them?”
She quickly wipes the tears from her face. She then nods and takes off into a sprint to lunge at you, still sobbing when she wraps her arms around your leg.
You sigh in relief and scoop her up into your arms.
Boothill then has an entire conundrum in the middle of the market square. For one, your daughter is waving him over with a smile on her face. Two, you looked like you were about two seconds away from passing out in shock. Your clothes are askew, hair a mess, face flushed and yet simultaneously drained of blood.
He steps closer anyway, though hesitantly. He can’t say no to the little thing whose grin has now grown double the size of her face.
“This is the man that helped me,” she explained softly to you, pointing at him with a small finger.
You scanned him over.
For a moment, he thought you were going to turn around and book it in the other direction. A random ‘robot man’ in the centre of the town square was probably the least most inviting thing he could’ve been. Not to mention he had been sitting at the docks for so long staring out into the water he knew his hair had been tossed wildly from the wind.
Not that you appeared anymore put together.
Instead, you grab his face with a free hand and kiss him on the cheek.
“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely.
He almost damn near blue screens. The words ‘anything for you’ fight to come forth out of his throat.
Instead, he lets out a garbled noise before he clears his throat. “Of course. Couldn’t let the little princess run too far.” He teased your daughter with a tap to her nose.
She grabs his finger and presses the pads of her own across the metal rivets and joints like she’s studying them curiously.
Your daughter stared up at you with giant puppy eyes, still holding his hand. “Can we keep him?”
It was your turn to make a weird noise, spluttering with your face heating up. “You can’t keep people.”
All the while, Boothill was staring at you as you chastised her with hot cheeks.
No spouse by the looks of it—nor had the little princess mentioned somebody else. He knew kids liked to ramble on about their parents.
Well, his daughter did. Something cold and metallic turned in his stomach. She used to think her dad was a hero.
He wondered if she still would.
No ring on your finger. Adoration was such a gentle expression on your face, and the way you held her so firmly, yet so delicately, said it all.
Oh, if he wasn’t completely head over heels from the very beginning.
the angst potential. The angst potential. Theeee angst potential. i’m gritting my teeth.
i’m going insan e
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bigification · 10 months ago
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Step Daddy
"You really need to get over your stepdad man." My friend tells me, concerned.
"Look, I'll try this one last thing and if it doesn't work then I'll give it up." I respond. "Did you bring the sunglasses?"
"Yes, but just remember he's like 25 years older than you. He's probably not going to be into you, even after this." He says as he hands me a pair of old pilot shades.
I told him I could let it go, but I can't. I'm just putting all my eggs into this basket, the sunglasses. Apparently they're supposed to transform someone who wears them mentally and physically to match my type. He already is my type, but I guess I wouldn't mind him bulking up a bit and growing some hair. It would be sexy if he got more charming, but he's already charming as it is. I guess there's only one way to find out.
I wait on the living room couch watching tv. He always gets home from work at the same time, so I know he'll be here any minute. I sit and stare at my reflection in the glasses. Am I really ready to change this man's life so drastically. My friend said no one else would take notice of the change, so it'll be like nothing happened. As I'm thinking over it, I hear the roar of his engine from the driveway. I try to calm down, but I can feel my body vibrate from the nerves. The door flies open.
"Hey buddy, hows it goin?" He asks me with his hot southern accent.
"Not bad. By the way, I found these sunglasses lying around, and assumed they were yours." I try to play it cool as I lie to his face.
"Oh, thanks. But these aren't mine." He responds.
"Well you might as well keep em, they don't fit me anyway." I try to convince him to take them without seeming too pushy.
"Well alright, thanks kid." He swipes the glasses and throws them on.
That was easier than I thought. As soon as he put them on, he stopped moving. His jaw slacked as if there was not a thought running through his mind. It started slow, his button up started to look a little bit tighter. His once flat chest started to push against his shirt and the shape of a belly started to show. Then it started to speed up. His chest started to pulse, growing in size with each one. They grew until the button on his collar popped off, then another button popped, then another and another. His juicy pecs flopped down after being released from his shirt. His stomach was next. His midsection widened and his stomach grew into a respectable beer belly, straining against his shirt. It wasn't long before more buttons began to pop, until his shirt was completely open. His arms also looked like they doubled in size, filling out his sleeves with thick muscles.
Next his legs start to look like they're gonna burst out of his dress pants. I can hear the rips ripple through his pants as his thighs grow inside of them. His ass fills out all the space in his pants and proceeds to rip open his fly and snap his belt in half. I can tell his underwear is barely staying in one piece as a large bulge formed in between his legs.
Finally his face begins to change. His once skinny face fills out with fat, giving him a rounder look. I can see that hair is falling out of his hat until he is left completely bald under there. Though in return his clean shaven face grows a bushy beard. But the hair doesn't stop there. It continues down his chest and to his belly, and presumably the rest of his body. He finally regains control of his body. He sighs as he stretched out his arms and cracks his knuckles before looking right at me.
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"Come here, son." He says in a deep buttery voice.
A shock travels through my spine as I think he might know what I've done to him.
"What'd I say boy!" He raises his voice.
I jump a bit before I walk closer to him. I realize how imposing he is up close. He must have gotten taller because he seems well over six feet tall now, and at least 250 pounds.
"Daddy had a stressful day, why don't you help him release some tension." He says as he pushes me to my knees.
I blush, this is everything I wanted from this, it just happened so much faster than I thought.
"Don't be shy, boy. This will be our little secret." He says as he pulls his underwear down.
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yuanist · 3 months ago
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kuroo, you think, has been out here for quite a while now. 
when you left to go meet with your study group—sometime between six-thirty and seven—the snow was just beginning to pile up. it hadn't started sticking to the roads yet, but you could see the vapor slip from the few leaves left on the trees; a symptom of early winter, you suppose. 
now, though, there must be four or five inches out here. the old oak tree that hangs over your building is starting to sag, and the moon seems heavier than it did before, hanging lowly along the glow of street light. 
kuroo is sitting on the steps up to your apartment, looking down at his phone. he has more than a few flakes in his hair, and if it wasn't for the ridge in the snow where he'd pushed it aside to sit, you'd think he'd been out here the whole time. 
"cold?" you ask, shuffling towards him. you can hear the crunch of your feet under you. 
"me? never."
he looks up at you then and, you'll admit, you like seeing him like this. lately, he's been against the whole 'text me before you come over' thing, and you know it's mostly because you don't reply, but, in part, that's so you can see him here. 
his hands are half-tucked under the sleeves of his coat, and there's a stretch of pink from the tops of his cheeks to the tip of his nose. his lips are chapped (you can only assume from being out here so often) and there's a little smile tugging at the sides of his mouth, his tongue poking out from behind his teeth. 
"oh, you want me to leave you out here then? give you a little more time?" you're smug—or, at least you're trying to be, anyway. the more time you spend with kuroo, the worse you are at pretending you don't like him. recently, you've been failing at that more than you'd care to admit. 
"hey, i didn't say that." he sinks his teeth into his lower lip. "plus, what's the point of coming all the way over here if i can't see my favorite girl?" 
you shake your head at him, aiming your chin towards the ground. in a strange way, you feel like you're suffocating.
"you mean the cat?" you ask.
and he chuckles, "sure." 
a beat of silence hangs in the air for a second, before you plod your way up the steps, pulling your keys out of your pocket. you can hear kuroo rise behind you, attempting to brush some of the moisture out of his sleeves. 
"y'know," you say, pushing the key into the door. "if you like coming over when i'm not home so much, i could tell the neighbor to let you in." 
his hood rustles; he's shaking his head. 
"where's the fun in that? kinda ruins my whole 'mysterious stranger' act." 
"also kinda ruins the 'guy stalking the apartment complex' act." you swing the door open and make your way up the stairs. "i'm sure everyone is so enthused by the guy sitting on the stairs every friday." 
a laugh, "oh i'm sure. if they report me for loitering promise you'll come bail me out?" 
"depends on how much i like you that day." you can feel the heat of your apartment as you approach the end of the hall. 
"really," he says. "if they took me in right now?" 
"i would think about it." you pause. "maybe." 
"wow." you can hear the rasp in his voice as he drags out the 'o.' "tough crowd." 
your apartment smells like pine and vanilla—the workings of two little wax melters on opposite sides of the rooms. you turned them off before you left (you double and triple-checked), but the scent lingers, itching at your nose as you cross through the door. 
kuroo follows close behind, scaping his shoes off on the mat before slipping them onto the little shoe rack in the corner. his jacket squeaks as he shrugs it off—a sound so distinctly made from the shifting of wet nylon that you barely have to turn around to identify it. 
every time he follows you up here, you find yourself glancing around your apartment—looking for something that could possibly be out of place. something incriminating: three-day-old dishes that you know you already washed; your vibrator, forgotten on the nightstand, even though you remember putting it back in its designated drawer. 
for some reason, you have a tendency to think that the things around your home that make you distinctly human are also the things that would make you distinctly unappealing. you're aware of how silly the thought is, but there you are, quickly looking over at your nightstand as you stick your coat back in the closet. 
"so," you hum, rubbing a bit of the warmth back into your hands. "to what do i owe the pleasure tonight? you here to eat all of my leftovers again?" 
"depends," he says. "you have leftovers to be eaten?" 
"not this time." you make your way to the couch, and he pouts, following behind you. "but if i did, they'd be all yours." 
"aw, you mean it?" you eye him. "i'm honored." 
as much as you hate to admit it, this has sort of become habit. you come home a little later than expected and you find kuroo sitting on your front stoop. you're not exactly sure how any of it started—or, really, how the two of you became friends in the first place—but you ran in the same circles for a while and, eventually, you ended up here. 
"well," he begins, slinging his arm over the back of the couch. "study group?" 
"boring." you nudge your way beneath his shoulder. "practice?"
"thrilling, obviously. greatest two hours of my life, even. i think you could go as far as to—" you eye him again. "same thing as yesterday." 
you chuckle, swatting a hand into his chest. 
there's silence for a moment, something warm pulling through the air of the room. quiet breaths spill from kuroo's lips, and you resign yourself to listening to each one—in, and out. 
he still smells cold; like the heavy, wet snow you have to shovel off of the porch the morning after a blizzard. for every breath, it lessens, bleeding into the heat of the room, but you let the scent linger at the base of your nose. 
you're not sure how much time you've spent taking in pieces of kuroo, but you know it's more than you ever plan to tell. you know his hands take longer to warm up than the rest of him—he chalks it up to bad circulation most of the time, you know that too; he rarely spends a night at home because he doesn't like sitting in silence; he twitches sometimes, when he's nervous, a little flick of his hands; his favorite color is red but sometimes he's drawn to deep blues because he likes the sky better when it's absent of stars—he says there's something enchanting about the abyss. 
he's too dense to know you're in love with him but too smart to think you're not. sometimes you catch him looking at you after you say something in a tone a little too far beyond friendly and you swear that he knows what you mean. sometimes, you think he's going to break the silence, and, sometimes, you think he never will. 
tonight, he swings his head back, eyes lightly shut, slowly sinking into the back of the couch. you can hear the sputter of your vents and the sound of the wind against the windows—snow still trying to fight its way through the glass.  
you're going to ask him to stay the night tonight—you already know it. you're going to wake up to him on the couch tomorrow, with his hair messed up, and his eyes half-lidded, and that stupid look on his face that makes you want to slip your tongue into his mouth. 
you're going to think about that time you slept together last year—once, after a halloween party—and you're going to think about the way the inside of his mouth tasted; you're going to sink your teeth into your lips so hard that you're going to bleed. 
you're going to consider telling him that you love him, that you always have and you think you always will, and then you're going to ask him if he wants coffee instead—hoping the smell of the pot is enough to make your head feel less fuzzy. 
you're going to wait, and hope he says something, even though you'll know he never does. and then, next friday, when you come home to him sitting on your front steps, you're going to do it all again. 
reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
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ghostgirl-22 · 3 months ago
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Vibrator!Anon you made me write this too for some reason lol. Not coherent but I figured I’d share it anyway. More random boys objectifying Art and him (and Patrick) losing his mind over it.
CW: 18+ !NSFW! Bimbofication
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The thing about Art that really drives Patrick crazy is how empty headed he gets when he’s horny. Generally Art is a very smart and competent person but when his dick is hard it’s like he goes brain dead. And suddenly he’s silly, dumb, sluttystupid.
Once Patrick made him wear a bra under his uniform during their state doubles final.
“Just a training bra since you’re starting to blossom into such a beautiful girl,” Patrick teased at breakfast. Art kicked him hard under the table scowling (which fair, but it wasn’t Patrick’s fault he was bad at bowling).
The match goes well until midway through the second set when Patrick basically becomes the only functioning player. And Art for some (obvious) reason ends up in lala land. They still win. The other team didn’t really stand a chance.
The whole match Patrick’s hard and it’s fueling him. He doesn’t slow down for one second immediately after the match, when he shoves himself into the bathroom stall and jerks it so hard and fast that he gets light headed as he comes.
And then there’s Art.
The other guys on their team tease him for losing the bet. They lift his shirt to see the bra. Tell him his tits look good. One of them even goes as far as to push Art up against the locker and pretend to kiss him. And maybe Patrick never should’ve blabbed about it to them. He’s only got his stupid big mouth to blame for why Art’s all flushed as they tease him. Flustered and dizzy and… horny. Patrick can read it all over him after countless nights in their dorm room “messing around.”
Art goes silly. Barely able to focus. It’s like he’s drunk. Dropping things. Can’t find his towel, can’t find his phone, cant figure out how to re-wrap his racket. “I think I wanna shower at home.” He says distractedly.
“You should be in the girls locker room,” one of their classmates teases and pinches his nipple even though he’s not wearing the bra any more. “Shuddup,” Art says, pushing him off. The guy just laughs and tries to grab the other one.
Patrick knows Art is steps away from touching himself, the real reason he needs to go back to the dorm. It’s lucky he wore briefs or everyone would see it the way Patrick can. That he can’t stand still, can’t sit still.
Patrick has to do everything for him. Pack up his rackets, and his clothes, and all his gear. Everything. While he sits there, dumb pretty, eyes glassy, fingering the lace bra and flirting with their teammates as they objectify him.
The only openly gay kid on the team smirks at Patrick after he gets away with calling Art pretty, fingers tangled in his hair and Arts following the touch.
Patrick rolls his eyes. “Come on, let’s go Art,” he snaps, only mildly irritated at how fucking easy Art is right now.
“Yeah let’s go,” Art says, getting to his feet. Eyes dilated, not a coherent thought in his head.
“Pick up your bag,” Patrick says, slowly like he’s talking to a kindergartener.
“Oh,” Art laughs.
Hell Patrick even has to guide Art back to the room because Art has no idea where he is or what’s going on.
It’s not until he’s fucking into Patricks fist up against their bedroom door that he feels like a real boy again. Whining and rambling that he’s so sorry about how he played but it’s all Patricks fault for making him wear lace. Because he couldn’t focus because of the way it moved over his nipples. And he didn’t know they were so sensitive. And honestly, neither did Patrick.
So Patrick starts licking, teasing, abusing them just to be rewarded with the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard Art or anyone make.
And Art finishes sloppy in Patrick’s hand, on the floor on Patrick’s t-shirt. Desperate and panting. Mirroring what Patrick did in the bathroom stall right after the game.
“You really do have the prettiest tits,” Patrick teases, licking his fingers.
“‘m not doing that again,” Art says, much more lucid.
Patrick smirks. “Then next time I guess you better win.”
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newtthetranswriter · 4 months ago
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Hi there! Just read your Giulio Gandini x reader and I have to say it's just amazing! I've been inspired to send in a request, if that's okay.
Personally I love flustered men so... perhaps could you write, pretty please, something about him with a reader who's under his care (kind of like Anna was) that likes calling him sweet petnames and compliments him often? (you can use gender neutral terms, I don't mind, let it be for everyone to identify with hehe) One day they compliment his voice, the next is his eye, the next is his strength. And they call him not just Giulio, but also honey, or lovely, handsome, etc?
Sorry it's such a long request, I hope you make the idea come to life with your lovely writing!
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Word Count: 3810
Paring: Giulio Gandini x Gn! Reader
Warnings: Mentions of reader being sick, Slight MHA Manga spoilers, MHA You’re Next spoilers, possibly Ooc Giulio
A/n: Hi, Thank you so much for requesting. I’m glad you enjoyed the last one enough to ask for more, and I hope this meets your expectations. Anyways enjoy, remember requests are open and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.
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    After the fight with Dark Might, Giulio and Anna moved into the U.A. shelter. It was the safest place at the time and they had no way to get out of Japan even if they tried. So the two of them settled into one of the refugee dorms they were offered and waited out the war between Heroes and villains. At first they were happy to be free of Anna’s quirk and the stress it caused both of them, and they tried to enjoy a life with each other. But over the weeks spent in the shelter, they both realized that the feelings they thought they had for each other were nothing more than friendship. Yes, they loved each other but it was more in the ‘this is my best friend and I would die for them’ way than the ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you kind of way’. So, they agreed to just be friends and support each other through whatever comes their way.
   Eventually, the war came to an end with the Heroes standing victorious. With the restoration efforts underway, the Refugees were free to leave U.A. and flights out of Japan were finally available. With the ability to finally leave and get their lives back on track, Giulio and Anna discussed what it is they wanted to do moving forward. 
    Anna had suggested that they return to her home and rebuild it after the attack by the Gullini family left it in shambles. And as much as Giulio wanted to help his friend rebuild her family home, that place was now tainted with the reminders of the night she was taken and he was left for dead. He instead offered for them to stay in Japan and start over. They could find work and rent an apartment together until they both got on their feet.
   After a lot of back and forth, Anna had decided to return to her family home on her own, and Giulio stayed in Japan to start over. They remained friends, just living in completely different parts of the world.
   Though starting over in the wake of a war wasn’t the easiest thing ever, Giulio slowly began regretting his choice. It was impossible to find an apartment that was accepting new tenants, let alone one that wasn’t completely destroyed in the chaos. If it hadn’t been for the green haired hero student, who helped him out with the Dark Might situation, he would probably be living in some run down abandoned building since the kid was able to get Giulio permission to stay at U.A. until he was able to find an apartment and a job.
   And don’t get Giulio started on the search for a job. He knew it would be a struggle, after all he was a foreigner, wore an eyepatch over his prosthetic eye, and his right arm doubled as a gun. It was never going to be easy to find work even if there was just a country wide fight against a lunatic super villain. But even with his regrets, he didn’t give up hope.
   Roughly three months after the dust had settled and Anna had left, Giulio finally received a job offer. A small-time artist wanted to hire someone to help out around their house, as their work kept them busy. At first Giulio was hesitant at first, not wanting to just be some snobs maid, but when he saw that he would be allowed to stay in one of the spare rooms of their house free of charge, he accepted. After all, they were the first person to offer him a job, even with his looks, and it would eliminate the struggle of finding a place to stay.
 Time Skip
    It’s been just over four months since he took the job with the artist, and to say it was nothing like he accepted would be an understatement. You weren’t your average snobby artist who acts like they’re better than everyone else. You were just a normal person who happened to make high quality art that also happened to sell really well. You treated Giulio like you had known him  for years, and didn’t care that he looked like he had been through hell and back.
   But your kindness wasn’t the main thing that surprised him. It was the fact that you rarely called him Giulio. Anytime you needed anything, you would call him Honey or Love. Thanking him with a quick ‘thanks hun’ after he brought you lunch when they were busy. He couldn’t understand why you used pet names like that, he wasn’t mad about it, just confused. And not that he would admit it but every time one of the soft names of endearment would roll off your tongue in his direction, his heart would speed up for a second.
   “Hey Love, what do you think of this color palette?” You called from where you sat looking at work in progress you had been trying to finish for a few days.
   Snapping out of his train of thought Giulio walked over from his place by the door, looking over your shoulder. “I think that red with that green looks a little to christmassy but other than that it looks ok.” He answered, when he first started working for you he understood nothing about art but he was quickly picking up on what colors went well together and what clashed.
   You sat for a second, tilting your head from side to side, thinking over the input he gave. “You’re so right hun.” You said reaching for a new bottle of paint. “I think I need to add a little bit more blue to this green, and maybe just a smidge of brown to the red.” You rambled as you began mixing the new colors. After a few seconds, you turned to look at Guilio, almost as if inspecting his features as he just looked back confused by your investigative stare.
   “Is something wrong, Y/n?” He asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the art studio.
   Shaking your head, you turned back to your paints before responding. “Nothing’s wrong, just kinda got lost in how beautiful your eye is.” You said as if it didn’t make Giulio’s heart speed up. “Anyways, how about now? Do the colors work well?” You asked, causing Giulio to look back at the paint in question.
   Taking a moment to actually take in the changes that You had made to the paint, Giulio refocused his thoughts. “Yeah, I think that works better now.” He nodded, before standing up and checking the time on his phone. “Well, it’s about time for me to make lunch, is there anything specific you want?” He asked, getting ready to leave You to work on their painting while he got back to work.
   “Nope, just make whatever you want hun.” You said with your usual smile before focusing back on your project.
   Giulio nodded and left the room. Once he closed the door to the studio behind him, he couldn’t stop the flush that rushed over his cheeks. Sure Giulio had received compliments in the past but that was before everything happened. Since he lost his eye, no one has complimented his appearance. People have complimented how cool his prosthetic arm is, or how he’s a good shot for someone who is self taught, but no one has told him he’s beautiful in a long time. 
   Taking a moment to calm his thoughts and tell himself it meant nothing and was probably just the artist admiring the color of his eye and not himself. Giulio settled himself, and moved to the kitchen to prepare something for lunch.
Mini time skip
   Other than the comment about his eye that day, nothing else out of the ordinary happened. After a couple days, Giulio even managed to convince himself that it didn’t happen. But he was once again doubting himself, as he found himself in a similar position a week later.
   You had once again called him into your art studio, needing more input on some design you were working on. “Which of these techniques look more like hair?” You asked him once he approached where you sat at a small desk in the corner.
   Giulio leaned over slightly to get a look at what you were referring to. On the desk sat three small canvases, all painted with the same reddish brown paint you had mixed the previous week. The only differences were the way they were shaded, each one having a slightly different pattern. Looking closely at each one Giulio couldn’t help but notice that the shade and pattern of each looked eerily similar to his own hair when it was down. 
   Brushing the thought off again he pointed to one that had the slightest wave in the shading. “That one looks more like hair. Even the straightest hair has waves and ripples depending on how it’s styled.” He answered, standing up. As he watched you take in his response, he subconsciously brushed his hand over his hair moving the pieces that came loose out of his face.
   Just as he brought his hand away from his hair, You looked up at him. “You know, you should let your hair down more often. It looks nice when you do.” You said casually referring to the few times he had left his room with his hair not in its normal bun. “Anyways thank you for once again helping me out of this road block. It will really help with this piece.” You moved to organize more of your smaller canvases you used for swatching colors or techniques.
   Nodding in response, Giulio then moved to exit the studio. He didn’t bother saying anything as he left knowing that you were busy and at the moment he didn’t trust his voice. He could feel a light blush creeping up his neck and he needed to be alone to calm his thoughts again.
   Once he was in the hallway, Giulio began to work through his thoughts as moved to work on cleaning up the house for the day. This was the second time you had complimented his appearance, surely there had to be a reason. He wanted to tell himself that it was really just the artist finding inspiration in his looks because you see him every day, but then he remembered what people say about an artist’s muse. Giulio didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but what if you actually found him attractive.
   Almost as soon as the thought appeared, Giulio shook it away. That was foolish, you were his boss and he was just there to help you keep your house in order while you worked. Sure, you guys would have long deep conversations over dinner or afternoon tea when you both felt like talking, but that's just what people do right. Giulio tried to once again convince himself that the compliments and pet names meant nothing and that you were just an affectionate person. You probably call all your friends Love or honey, while casually complimenting them.
Time Skip
    It wasn’t until another month later that Giulio realized that there actually was more to it than he let himself believe. The compliments hadn’t stopped, every other day you would find something about him to comment on. Like how bright his smile is when he’s truly happy, or how he doesn’t let his past define him. And of course the pet names never stopped, every question was started with ‘hey love’ and every ‘thank you’ followed by hun. 
   But what ended up tipping the scale from ‘Oh they must be like this with all their friends’ to ‘Wait, do they really think all these things about’, was when one of your friends came over for a visit. 
   Giulio wasn’t paying much attention to the conversations you were having, believing that it was none of his business. He just focused on bringing the two of you tea and then going about his daily tasks, before slipping into his bedroom to get out of the way. But as much as he wanted to ignore what the close friends were talking about, he couldn’t help but notice one thing. You never called your friend any of the pet names you used for him. It was always ‘hey f/n’ or ‘thanks buddy’. Hearing how you talked with your friend, caused Giulio’s thoughts to run a mile a minute.
   Later in the day not long before your friend left, Giulio was in the kitchen grabbing himself a snack when the final straw tipped the scale. Again he didn’t mean to listen in but he couldn’t help but eaves drop when he heard his name.
   “Giulio seems really sweet, a little on the scary side but really sweet nonetheless.” Your friend said. He wasn’t sure why they were talking about him, but his interest was piqued so he stayed quite in the kitchen pausing his actions.
   There was a pause before he heard you speak. “He’s not scary, just rough around the edges. He’s been through a lot these past couple years, it’s understandable for him to be cold.” You explained. “But you are right about him being sweet. He’s always checking in on me when I’m lost in the depths of a project, making sure I’m eating and getting enough water.” You said, complimenting Giulio as if it was second nature to you at this point.
   He heard a laugh coming from your friend before they spoke again. “Well, yeah I hope he’s checking on you. Isn’t that why you hired him in the first place?.” Giulio agreed with them, you hired him to keep an eye on yourself because prior to him, you had gotten sick numerous times because you weren’t the best at self care. “Come one Y/n, I know there’s more to it than he does his job. Since I’ve been here I haven’t heard you call him by his name except for when you introduced us, every other time you’ve spoken to him it’s been ‘love’ or ‘hun’. What’s up with that?” So they noticed too. “And don’t try to say you’re just friends because you never call me that.” They finished with an accusatory tone.
   Giulio anxiously waited for your response, hopefully with it being your long time friend asking, you would actually give a real response. 
   “Ugh you have always been able to read me.” You sighed, before continuing. “He just goes above any expectation I had. Like yeah I hired him to help make sure I take care of myself, but I didn’t expect for him to do things like carry me to my room when I pass out in the studio or replace my art supplies when they get low without being asked. Not to mention he’s not pushy, if I forget to eat he just brings the food in and lets me know it’s there and that I need to eat. He doesn’t get upset when he comes back later and it’s untouched, he just replaces it with a granola bar and bottle of water so I don’t have to take my mind off my work to eat.”
   Giulio was amazed that you had noticed all of that in the few months he’d been working for you. He figured you just excused all the times he replaced your paints as you forgot that you already got them. Or that you forgot you actually went to bed on your own, but clearly you picked up on it at some point. 
   You sighed again before continuing, after taking a drink of your tea. “As for the pet names. It just feels natural with him. I never meant to start doing it, one day it just slipped and he never told me to stop so I didn’t. It honestly kinda feels wrong to just call him Giulio at this point, because he’s more than that to me. He means so much to me.” You finished, likely with a soft smile on your face. Giulio could tell you meant every word, but he also heard the slight pain in your voice as they spoke. It was almost like something about the topic hurt on a deep level.
   “Why don’t you tell him that? Clearly he cares about you if he’s doing things like replacing your supplies or carrying you to bed so you don’t wake up in pain.” Your friend asked curiously.
   There was another softer sigh before you spoke again. “I don’t want to scare him away. He just thinks of this as a job and a place to stay. I can’t just be like ‘Hey I know I’m technically your boss, but I have feelings for you and they won’t go away’. That could ruin everything. If it made him uncomfortable to work for me or stay here anymore, he wouldn’t have anywhere to go. His best friend is in another country and he has no family, he’d be forced to stay here until he found something else. I couldn’t bear to put him in that kind of position.” 
   Giulio was shocked. He never expected to hear any of that, and yet it made him both extremely happy and sad at the same time. Had he really given you the impression that he wouldn’t want to work for you anymore if he knew your true feelings for him. At that moment his body moved before he could think about what he was doing, and before he knew it he was standing in the living room.
   His sudden appearance draws the attention of you and your friend to him. Before either of you could ask him why he was there he spoke. “You don’t have to worry about scaring me away with your feelings.” Giulio started, he noticed the surprised look on your face assumed it matched his. “I’m not sure how to describe what I feel, I’ve never been great with words. But I do know that every time you call me Love or say you like my smile, my heart races and I find it hard to speak.” As he told you all of this he moved so he was standing closer to where you sat. 
   There was a pause as his thoughts finally caught up with his words, and in that moment he decided that he was already this far so he might as well go for it. “And if you truly meant everything that you said, I would be happy to explore these feelings together.” He finished with a gentle smile.
   You sat for a moment speechless. Your entail thought was that you were dreaming and in a minute you’ll wake up laying across the desk in your studio. But after blinking quickly and pinching your arm to wake yourself, you realized that this was happening. Giulio felt the same as you, even if he didn’t quite know the words to use. “Yeah, I meant every word. You are so much more than I expected when I started looking for someone to help out around here.” You said returning your own bright smile. “I’d love to explore these feelings with you, Love.” You finished, standing up and grabbing both of his hands running your thumbs across his knuckles.
   He couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face at the act. Not only were you showing the same care to his robotic arm as his normal one, but you were looking him in the eyes. Rarely had anyone made eye contact in a way that included his support item, they always focused on his human eye as if they were uncomfortable with the tech that was now part of him. You looked at him as if you saw the real him, not the person everyone thought he was. 
   Giulio was truly at a loss for words at that moment. So instead of saying anything he leaned forward slowly, giving time for you to stop him, before placing a quick kiss on your cheek. As he pulled back he admired the slightly shocked expression on your face that quickly turned to a giddy smile. “I’m glad I took this job, nothing could have turned out better than this.” He said resting his forehead against yours, the smile never leaving his face.
   “I’m glad you took the job as well, now I don’t have to worry about Y/n working themself to death because they forgot how to feed themself.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you pulled away from Giulio to look at your friend who was now standing by the front door. “Don’t stop being all lovey dovey on my account, I was gonna head out soon anyways. But congrats you two. And Giulio I don’t care if your arm doubles as a gun, if you hurt her you will wish you never came to Japan.” They finished, waving quickly before slipping out the front door.
   The following silence was interrupted by your bright laugh once again. Giulio looked at you, still in shock from your friend's threat. “Don’t give me that look, we both know you would never hurt me. Anyways, do you want to see that project I’ve been working on?” You asked, stifling the giggles at the wide eyed stare he had been giving you.
   Giulio took another moment to process everything before nodding gently. He once again didn’t trust his voice. He had completely forgotten your friend was there and let his feelings out, he couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed by the situation.
   You smiled as you pulled him towards your studio. As you opened the door and ushered him in front of you, he couldn’t help but notice the giddy smile on your face. When he turned back to the room, he was not expecting this to be your project. Staring back at him was a hyper realistic portrait of himself. Every detail was clearly thought out from the shade of his hair to how it laid across his shoulders. He was shocked to see that not only had you chosen to paint him with his hair down but you also chose not to include his eye patch. Both his human and robotic eyes looked back at him.
   Watching as he silently took in the painting you couldn’t help but become nervous. “Do you like it? I wanted to paint you in a way that shows how I see you.” You explained coming to stand next to him.
   Instead of responding he turned to you, pulling you close and placing a quick kiss to your lips. “You're perfect.” Was all he said before pulling you back in. Conveying all his feelings through the kiss instead of trying to find the words to describe how perfect everything was.
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(dividers by @/cafekitsune)
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sugrhigh · 1 year ago
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BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )
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part one
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think
neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader
a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻
@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss
your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the scarlet and white colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.
he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.
your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.
but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.
“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.
you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.
you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.
“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.
mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”
“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.
“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.
you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.
no, not ever. oh my god.
“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.
“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.
“and you also didn’t have to agree.”
this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”
ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”
“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.
“i’m honestly not sorry.”
the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.
it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.
he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.
maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.
you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.
you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.
even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.
you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.
he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.
he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.
you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.
you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.
they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.
spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.
no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.
they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.
the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.
it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.
the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.
you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”
cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.
he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.
but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.
“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.
“whatever.”
the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.
it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.
you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.
he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.
“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.
“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.
“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.
but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.
“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.
“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.
“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.
it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.
“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.
chris
wait for me, 15 mins max
ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.
you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.
they don’t even know the truth.
finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.
it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.
he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.
“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”
he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.
it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.
the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.
you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.
“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.
you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.
“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.
“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.
“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.
“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”
you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”
“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.
you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”
“always assuming the worst.”
“well, you make it easy.” you tease.
he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.
you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.
“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”
“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.
a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.
chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.
“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.
“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.
“what’s your problem with it?”
“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.
“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.
“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.
chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”
you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.
“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.
you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.
chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.
“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.
“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”
the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.
it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.
he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.
“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.
it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.
deny, deny, deny.
“just wondering why your face looks like that.”
“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.
“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.
“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”
it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.
“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.
“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.
“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”
chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.
“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.
you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.
“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.
“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.
“that’s surprising.”
you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.
he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”
you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.
“home, obviously.”
“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.
“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”
this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”
“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.
you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.
his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.
you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.
it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.
his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.
why is this happening?
the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.
“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.
“or you could stay.”
“i don’t want to.”
“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.
you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.
“goodnight, chris.”
“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.
there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.
you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.
your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.
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muffinpink02 · 4 months ago
Note
I don’t want to rush you at all! But I’m so excited for she’s a bully on your WIPs, throwback pics of Alexia in her brunette era…
I was too, but I'v kind of falling out of love with it. I think cos I'm worried about the age thing, its school but their 18, can you guys let me know? I can make it college. This is the only thing I've written for it, so if I never get round to it you can at least have this. Also I made her blonde, but as its younger her I can change it to brunette for the future, if I ever finish it.
Smut 18
You rush down the empty hallway, you can’t believe you’ve actually been given detention. You never got detention.
It wasn’t even your fault! But of course Mrs Green didn’t want to hear your reasoning, she saw what she thought she saw, not caring about the story behind it. You never did feel like she liked you much. 
You passed the grey lockers, eyeing the banners for the upcoming school dance, not that you cared, you won’t be going anyways. You’ll say it’s out of protest but really no one will ask you.
You quickly race down the creaky stairs, finally on the floor of the detention room. It’s weird for you to be here, especially when it's empty, this side of the school always gave you the creeps. Maybe because it was the older section, the hallways were smaller, the paint was peeling off the walls, even the smell was weird. 
You glance at your watch, luckily you’re not late, Mrs Green would have had a field day with doubling the already 20 minute detention. You’re about to turn the corner when you hear a faint cry.
You stop dead in your tracks, what was that? You take a second to listen, but there’s nothing. It's silent. You shake your head, you must be hearing things. You go to continue your journey. Wait! There it is again! You stand still, listening carefully, the crying sound continues, it’s definitely a girl. 
The cry gets louder as you look around the corridor of rooms, then you hear it again, it starts to sound more like a moan. It sounds weird, you hear it again, it sounds like someone’s crying but it’s muffled and sounds, well, it sounds like sex.
“No fucking way.” You whisper to yourself. 
You take another look around the empty corridor as your curiosity takes over, you find yourself tiptoeing towards the sound, not really thinking about what you're doing. The sounds of crying definitely aren’t what you thought, it's a mess of moaning and panting, the cries turn into whimpers, just from the sound alone you feel your face heating up. 
You take a peek through the small glass window, you can see a girl on her back on the desk, her long dark hair hanging off the side. Your eyes pop open. Her legs are open, you can see someone’s kneeling between them, clearly eating her out. It sends a jolt to your clit. You’ve completely forgotten about your detention. You can see someone’s between her legs but you can’t see either of their faces.
You feel bad watching but you can’t bring your eyes away. It’s when the dark-haired girl moves her head, you realise It’s Stacey, the girl who makes every day a misery for you. Suddenly the whole scene makes you uncomfortable and not at all hot. She’s probably being fucked by one of the rugby boys, at least he’s breaking the stereotypes and is actually eating her out.
That’s until you see a blonde ponytail, it’s not a boy, it’s a girl eating her out. Your jaw drops open, you watch as the blonde's head is bobbing up and down, Stacey’s hand clutches to her hair. You feel a wave rush to your core, your heart starts to race a little.
“Fuck, Ale.”
What? Surely not?
Then you see her, Alexia’s head rises from between her legs, you can see her face is wet. You’re glued to your feet as you watch Alexia wipe her mouth with the back of her hand like she’s done this a thousand times, you almost forget you’re not watching a porn video but two real people. You can feel your own breathing getting heavy as you watch on, your knickers are becoming slightly wet.
But you can’t look away, though you should have. Hazel eyes catch your own. You feel your heart catch in your throat, you want to move but you can’t, and Alexia doesn’t show any signs of stopping.
Fuck.
The girl is staring right at you, you need to leave, you should stop but you can’t It’s like she has a spell on you.
Stacey moans, unhappy Alexia's stopped. The blonde doesn’t even glance at the girl she’s pleasuring, her eyes are on you as she brings her fingers to Stacey and plunges her fingers deep inside the girl. Stacey lets out a deep moan, her back arches off the table. You would be shocked at the sheer lack of care they have, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
Alexia sends you a smirk as her fingers start to push in and out of Stacey. Your eyes are still on each other, you can feel your hands getting clammy. The girl moans are getting louder, Alexia finally glances at her. She grabs Stacies tie and pushes it into her mouth, making the girl muffle her moans. Alexia brings her eyes back to you, she smirks again as she lowers her head back between the girl's legs all while her eyes are on you.
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year ago
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Let the Light In
Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader Warnings: Fingering, male masturbation, smut. Word count: ~1.6k
Summary: Having stumbled back too late from the pub, Tom finds Lois and Douglas have locked him out for the night. Thankfully, the girl across the road takes pity on him.
Author's note: Day ten of the Smuffmas prompts - "bed sharing and accidental stimulation". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
“Lois! Lois! Come on, let me up, don’t be tight!”
The shouting filters through to her subconscious, and she grumbles, slowly blinking her eyes open, mind foggy with sleep.
“Lois! It’s freezing out here!”
She flicks on the lamp on the bedside table, lifting her watch to look at the time.
Almost 1am. Bloody pillock.
She has lived opposite the Bennett family her entire life, and though she doesn’t know them well, they’re neighbourly, exchanging polite “hellos” when they pass in the street. Though Tom’s is usually accompanied by a wink that makes her skin feel too hot.
Over the last year or so, she’s grown used to being woken up by Tom stumbling back home at some ungodly hour, waking her up as he shouts for his sister, Lois, to open the window and let him up into their shared bedroom. He knows he’ll cop an earful from their dad, Douglas, if he comes in through the front door. It’s usually double locked anyway, so his key wouldn’t work even if he were to try.
Lois has never left him out on the street for this long though, but she can’t blame her, she’s probably sick of it by now.
“Lois!”
Fuck’s sake.
There’s no point in leaving him out there, his shouting will wake up half the street. She considers it a good job that her own dad works nights, and that her mum has taken to wearing earplugs to bed so that he doesn’t wake her when he returns in the early hours of the morning.
She sighs, throwing off the duvet and stepping out of bed. She parts the curtains, lifting the sash window and shivers as the coldness of the air outside chills her skin through her nightdress as she leans out.
Tom stands outside of his house, leaning back with a lit cigarette between his lips as he stares up at his bedroom window. He’s about to shout again, when she interrupts.
“You’re gonna wake the whole bloody street if you keep on!” She hisses.
He turns, plucking the cigarette from his mouth and exhales a tight line of smoke through pursed lips.
“She won’t let me up,” he calls back. “don’t s’pose there’s any room at your inn? It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, after all.”
“It’s Christmas Eve right now. Have you got any idea what the time is?!”
“Tomorrow doesn’t start ‘til I wake up, sweetheart.”
He flashes a lopsided grin up at her, and she has to fight the urge to smile back as she feels familiar flutters in her stomach.
Cheeky git.
“Wait there,” she sighs, sliding the window closed.
She wraps herself in her dressing gown, picking her way carefully down the stairs, before switching on the hallway light and opening the front door.
Tom is there already, leaning against the doorframe, the crushed butt of his cigarette inches away from his feet.
“You’re a star. Shall I take the sofa then?” He asks, crowding the small space in which her family hangs their coats as she closes the door behind him.
“Absolutely not. Last thing I need is dad coming back from work and seeing you sprawled out in the living room, he’ll throw a fit. Shoes off.”
Tom bends down, unlacing and kicking off his shoes. “Where you putting me?”
“You can kip in my room. Bring those with you.”
“Oh,” he smirks, “if you insist.”
She rolls her eyes, making her way back upstairs, with Tom following close behind.
“You can sleep on the floor,” she tells him, chucking him the knitted blanket from the end of her bed, and the extra pillow she sleeps with.
“Thanks,” he sounds almost disappointed as he catches them, setting them down and busying himself with shrugging out of his jacket and leaving it on a heap on the floor with his shoes.
She had expected him to sleep fully clothed, so she is shocked when she hears the metallic clink of him opening his belt as he lowers his trousers. Feeling her skin prickle with heat, and her heartbeat begin to race, she quickly turns away, shedding her dressing gown and climbing into bed.
She pulls the duvet up around herself, remaining facing away as she listens to the rustle of clothing as he pulls off his jumper, and arranges his bedding.
When it finally grows quiet, she leans over to turn the lamp off and lays back down.
“Night then,” Tom says quietly.
“Night.”
She lays there in the darkness, eyes closed, willing herself to fall asleep and yet it won’t seem to pull her under. It isn’t helped by the relentless shifting around and sighing she can hear coming from the floor beside the bed.
After five minutes of listening to Tom toss and turn, and grumble to himself, she groans and finally switches the lamp back on, leaning down to look at him.
“Can you not just go to sleep?!” She whispers in frustration.
He pulls himself to sit up, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s uncomfortable down here. And I’m cold.”
She presses her lips into a tight line, before exhaling loudly through her nose. “Fine. Come on then.”
Shuffling to the far side of the mattress, she throws the duvet back for Tom and he climbs in eagerly.
“Smashing,” he says with a wink, before turning the lamp off.
They lay back to back and, in her tiny single bed, the angle pushes both of them to the far edges of the mattress, neither one of them comfortably having enough space to stretch out and go to sleep.
“This is awful,” she complains quietly.
“Mmm,” he agrees. “Let me just…”
Tom rolls over and her breath catches in her throat as she feels his chest press against her back, his body slotting itself against hers.
Admittedly, it’s comfier like this, they both have more room, and yet she is certain she won’t sleep a wink with the heat of his body so close to hers. He must be able to feel the way her heart thuds in her ribcage.
He shifts slightly and she feels the press of a bulge against her backside, she knows precisely what it is, and it sets her pulse racing. Instinctively, without thinking, she presses back and his breath shudders hotly against the shell of her ear, his nose pressed into her hair.
Tentatively, his fingertips spread out over her hip, pulling her back against him as he rolls his hips forward, and she feels sticky heat pool between her legs as he hardens against her.
She’s not entirely sure why she’s allowing this, just knows that it feels good and she doesn’t want it to stop as they move rhythmically together, both chasing a friction that neither can quite achieve.
“Have…have you ever…” he whispers, trailing off.
She swallows thickly, afraid to disappoint him, but wanting to be honest. “No.”
“Can I touch you?” 
His hand tightens on her hip and she nods. “Yes.”
Slowly, his fingers trail down her thigh, until he reaches the hem of her nightgown. His hand travels the same path again, only this time upwards and against her bare skin.
She whimpers as he cups her mound through the cotton of her knickers, the pads of his fingers pressing against the dampness of the gusset.
“Christ, you’re soaked,” he breathes shakily.
“Sorry,” she whispers back, feeling her cheeks grow warm.
“Not a bad thing, darlin’,” she can hear the smile in his voice, “nothin’ to be sorry for at all.”
His hand slides upwards, pressing flat against her lower abdomen, and then slides down again, creeping beneath the waistband of her underwear.
“Fuck,” Tom grits out, as his index finger slides between her folds, gathering her wetness before circling her pearl.
She buries her face into the pillow, to stifle the moan that leaves her. She has touched herself before, but it has always been hesitant, secretive, just enough to feel nice. This makes her feel as though her body is on fire.
Tom shuffles behind her, and for a moment she wonders what he is up to, until she feels the brush of his knuckles against her back. She doesn’t need to look to know that he’s pulled his cock out and is stroking himself. The idea makes her throat run dry.
His breaths come in hot puffs, the slick sound of him pleasuring himself, coupled with the squelch of his fingers as they slide and circle against her is lewd, and she knows she ought to feel ashamed, but she is desperate to fall from the edge that he’s eagerly pushing her towards.
She screws her eyes shut when his digit slides inside of her, her walls clenching around him as he curls his finger upwards, dragging against her and making her thighs shake.
“So tight,” he groans, before withdrawing, circling faster against her sensitive bundle of nerves with newly applied arousal.
She whines, arching against him and she feels the movement of the hand he has on himself speed up, as quiet grunts escape him.
“You’re close, aren’t ya?”
“Please…”
“Let go. Come for me.”
She bites down on the pillow, muffling the squeal that bursts out of her as her thighs clamp around Tom’s wrist, and her entire body shudders with the force of her peak. She feels like a bottle of pop that someone has shaken too hard, every part of her body coming apart in tiny bubbles.
Tom presses his face harder into her hair, his nose touching her scalp as he groans low in relief, his hips stuttering against hers as he finds his own release.
Slowly she turns to face him. His blue eyes shine in the moonlight, his full lips slightly parted as he breathes raggedly. He leans in, brushing his lips against hers, but not quite kissing her as they lay there together in blissful, tired silence.
“You’ll let me in next time, won’t you?” He rasps.
The double meaning is not lost on her, and yet it does nothing to affect her answer.
“Yes.”
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themultifandomgal · 9 months ago
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can you do a hank voight x reader where she had a dream about him and is avoiding him untill he corners her and she admits and the rest is up to you!!
Hank Voight- Stop Avoiding Me
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Just a small request hope you enjoy!
Hank Voigt a man I secretly like, secretly because 1 I work for him and 2 he’s double my age. It’s almost like a forbidden romance type of thing, but I know there’s no way he feels the same. I’ve been trying to avoid him any time I can. He walks into the kitchen I walk out. And now to add on to this I woke up this morning from having a dream about Hank, about how he kissed my lips, then my jaw and down my neck.
Interrupting my thinking a cup is placed on my desk. I look up to see my partner Jay
“Thanks”
“Looked like you needed it. Tough night last night?” He asks me
“Something like that” I take a small sip of coffee before looking back at my computer
“You want to talk about whatever is bothering you?”
“What makes you think somethings bothering me?” I frown turning on my swivel chair go face Jay who’s now got his eyebrows raised
“You’ve been staring at Voights office door for the last 20 minute. What did you do?”
“Nothing, I just… nothing I’m fine. Anyway thanks for the coffee. You better get back to writing the assault report. Voight will want it by the end of the day. Just as I say that Hank leaves his office. His tight shirt fitting around his muscles, shaking my head I look back to my computer screen trying to forget my dream last night
“YN Jay I need you to check out a wear house. Lindsey and I will be your back up but I’ve had a tip-off that we’re going to find drugs and possible weapons. Gear up” he says. Quickly I get to my feet and move passed Jay towards the lockers so I can grab my vest. I begin trying to do it up but fail miserably, sighing I leave the locker room and outside where Jay, Erin and Hank are all waiting
“Need some help?” Hank asks looking at me
“Err Jay can you” I point towards my back signalling I need help with my vest. Nodding his head he turns me around and does up my vest. I walk past Erin and Hank and get into the car. I can see from the wing mirror Hank is talking to Jay who then shrugs his shoulders before walking to the drivers side of the car. He starts it up and we make our way to the wearhouse.
Walking through we split off in pairs, Jay and I walking back to back with our guns in our hands
“No one else is here YN, you going to tell me know what’s going on?”
“Really Jay you want to do this now?” I question
“Yes because you won’t tell me when Voight is around. He’s not here so tell me what’s going on. What did you do?”
“I had a sex dream about him alright. I’ve been avoiding him because I like him and last night I had a sex dream. I know it’s wrong but fuck Jay I….” Before I can continue I hear gun shots being fired. Jay pulls me down behind an abandoned car
“You both ok?” Voight radios to me
“Yeah we’re fine” I reply as Jay starts shooting back
“Lindsay and I are coming in” I hear as I help Jay out by shooting back.
Erin and Jay arrest 2 men at the wearhouse while I do a sweep to make sure I’ve missed no one
“YLN” I hear Voight, but try to ignore him and continue walking “YN will you stop! What’s going on. Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not” I say still walking away
“YN” I feel him push me towards a wall, turning me to face him. I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to him before…. well in the real world, in my dream last night…. No YN stop “tell me”
“I can’t” I say quietly looking into his eyes
“Why?”
“Because it will ruin everything. I’ll get transferred and…” for the third time today I’m cut off, but this time is by Hank kissing me. I kiss him back before we pull apart
“Sorry I didn’t know how else to shut you up”
“Really?” I chuckle “you really didn’t know how else to get me to stop?” Hank just shrugs “why did you kiss me?” I frown
“Why do you think YN? Why do you think I always join you on busts like this? You won’t be transferred and your not ruining anything. We’re both consenting adults” Hank then starts to let me go. We start to walk back to the car outside “next time you have a dream like that just tell me and I’ll help” I freeze at that
“How did you know about that. I only told Jay”
“Your partner can be an idiot sometimes. Had his radio on”
“I’m gonna kill him” I say between gritted teeth making Hank laugh at me. We all out of the building and stood by the car is a guilty looking Jay and Erin smirking
“Jason mother fucking Halstead I hope you you have your bullet proof vest on because I’m about to murder your ass!” I shout storming over to him. I guess though if he hadn’t of done that Hank wouldn’t have kissed me so maybe I should be thanking him.
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jillsandwhichs · 8 days ago
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My captain
Chapter 13 to RE Characters x Reader smutshot collection
Masterlist
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Pairing: F!Reader x Chris Redfield (RE6 Version)
Summary: You stay late at work one night due to having overtime. While you're hard at work, Chris has you come into his office for an opinion on something. One thing leads to another, and he's fucking you on his desk
Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Friends/Co-Workers/Hookup
WC: 3.4k
Type: NSFW
Warnings: Making Out, Dirty talk, Hickies, Clit rubbing, Unprotected P in V, Rough sex, Office sex, Semi public sex, Choking, Pulling out, Slight aftercare
A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you
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You clacked the papers against the desk as you straightened them out and set them to the side. You swear that is the most you've done in a day. Absolutely spent is what you are. Sadly though, you can't leave yet. Overtime is a bitch but the BSAA isn't unfamiliar with making it's employees stay later than they should have to. At the end of the day though, you hardly mind. More pay is all that matters to you.
Picking up your iced coffee, you sipped it and set it back down before glancing around the office. Empty. The only people still here are you, a few other agents spread around HQ and your captain, Chris Redfield. It's not surprising he's still here, he tends to stay late even when it isn't needed. He's in his primary office currently, it's just feet away from where you are sitting right now. It makes you feel safer, you'll admit that much.
Standing up, you grabbed the stack of papers and held them close to your chest, ready to take them down to the directors room. It is a rather tedious task. It's two flights of stairs away and half of the time, he's not even here so then you end up having to turn them in the copy room. It's very... Agitating.
As you went to leave the room, the sound of the office door to your right opening up was heard. You gandered over and gave Chris a kind smile, not expecting him to suddenly appear. "Oh, hey you." He smirked, walking over to you and looking you up and down in a friendly manner. "Hey Cap, what are you up to?" "Was about to stop by the break room to grab a coffee. You?" "Taking these to McCarthy." "Ah," he nodded, his hands in his pockets.
"Well," he glanced towards the double doors then back at you. "I can take those for you, if you'd like. I'm heading that way anyways." "Oh," you can't say no to such a kind offer. You carefully passed him the weight of papers with a faint look of gratitude on your face. "I'd seriously appreciate that. Thank you." You didn't expect him to offer such a thing. "Of course, anything for you." He winked before trailing out of the room and to his intended place.
You sighed deeply before murming to yourself and heading back to your desk. You sat down and opened up your laptop. Now all you have to do is finish your report for the last mission you went on with Chris and your shared squad. You all went to Alaska and it was a rather eventful mission, to say the least. You're glad you're all back and safe though, that is all that matters.
Opening up a doc, you began to continue typing everything up. Tonight will be a long one. The second you get home, you're hitting the hay.
Amidst of you typing on your laptop, the sound of the door opening was heard once again. You turned your head and saw Chris entering the room. "Was he able to take my papers?" "Yep, he said thanks." "Good." You gave your captain a nod before glancing back down at your laptop and typing. You just want to get this report done as soon as possible. Takeout and sleeping sounds so good right now but with how weary you're beginning to feel, you bet you'll pass out in your bed once you're home.
Chris stood there, arms crossed and eyes on you. You didn't quite know why. You looked over at him and let out an awkward chuckle. "Do you need anything?" You asked. "Nah, no." He shook his head and looked down, trying to compose himself. "Need your opinion on something though, if I can snag you for a moment or two." Just great. Just when you though you'd actually be done quicker than you thought.
You let out a loud sigh, making it clear you didn't want to but you plan to anyway. "Sure thing." You forced a slight smile and stood up, closing your doc and standing beside him. "Lead the way." You pushed your hand out. He silently huffed out a laugh before having the two of you go into his primary office.
You've been in here a few times. It's kind of small. Wooden panel walls, black carpeting, a polished desk with a black desk chair. Not to mention the countless trophies and plagues around the room and the semi-dead sat plant in the corner as well. The lighting is dim but he has a desk lamp that he primarily uses. You wonder what it is he has to show you.
"So... What's up?" You said softly, crossing your arms and facing him. "This." He pulled out a sheet. "An outline of our upcoming mission. How do you feel about it?" You took the clipboard from his hand and analyzed what was on it. It seems rather regular to you, nothing out of the ordinary. "I like it." You smiled. "Glad I'll be with you the whole time, Lord knows Jensen will talk my ear off if I'm paired with him again." You laughed.
Chris nodded and took the clipboard from you. "Glad you like it. Ever since I started making these instead of others, they've been better, don't you think?" "Yeah, for sure." You nodded and looked around his office. He's not wrong. The missions have been going much more smoothly as of late and it's all because of him. Chris is a good captain, you have to give him that.
"Anywho though, thanks." He smirked and put the clipboard back into the drawer of his desk. "Of course." "And for your help," he paused for a moment and grabbed a coffee that was on his desk. You noticed he had two when coming back into the room but you didn't think it was for you, you just assumed he's an advant coffee drinker. "Oh, thank you! How thoughtful."
Right as you went to grab the paper cup from his hands, some of it splashed onto your shirt. The white lid wasn't on all the way. It stained your white BSAA merch shirt. You gasped and stepped away, watching as the brown, creamy liquid seeped into your chest area and dribbled as it went down. "Shit." Chris said in a disappointed tone. He turned around with haste and looked for a rag until he instead settled on thin tissues.
"I am so sorry." He murmured, dabbing your shirt awkwardly. You watched Chris as he cleaned your shirt off frantically. The sight was rather cute actually. You don't really care about a random work shirt, you have tons. You giggled as he continued and he looked up at you with a puzzled look. "Sorry, sorry..." You chortled, blushing at this point from your laughter. "You're just funny." You shook your head before snorting. Chris smirked and wiped your shirt off a little bit more. "You have a cute laugh." He commented, tossing the tissues in the trash.
You looked down at your shirt. Well, unfortunately, the stain is still there but at least your shirt is dry. Though, you can practically see your bra and cleavage through it, so that is a bit awkward. Then it clicked in your head what Chris had said. "You think so?" "Mhm." He leaned against his desk and gazed at you, his eyes dark and full with an emotion you don't recall ever seeing displayed within them. "Sorry," he huffed out a laugh, "I'm a bit forward, huh?" "It's no problem!" You smiled and uncrossed your arms. "Really, it isn't." You reassured him.
"Good," he then took a step closer to you, "because I think you're fucking hot." That sent literal shivers down your spine. Your back hit the door when he was closer to you and you giggled. "You do?" Now this isn't very professional of him but really, do you mind? Not necessarily. He mentally slapped himself in the face before blowing out a sigh. "Fuck, sorry." He stepped away but you grabbed his shoulder. "Chris, I mean," you shook your head, "Captain... I think you're... You know... As well..." You are stuttering and stumbling. How embarrassing.
Physically, Chris blushed though it wasn't visible. He wasn't lying. He finds you to be a rather attractive woman and you are. He just doesn't know what's gotten into him. Maybe the built up tension between you two is at its point of release and well, there has always been something going on between the two of you - anyone could've called that.
He stared into your eyes momentarily before whispering "Fuck it." And pressing his larger body up against yours and smashing his lips to your lips. You gasped and kissed him back, no hesitation occurring. You encased your arms around his neck as his lips roughly & passionately coursed over yours. Ten minutes ago, you were working on paperwork and now, you're literally swapping salvia with your fucking Captain. You are dirty.
As the two of you made out, you slightly moaned and Chris took that as an opportunity to slide his tounge into your mouth. It was wet and his mouth was warm. It's been awhile since something like this has happened to you and you're glad your celibacy is being broken by Chris. He's sexy and you can already tell, just by this, that he's going to absolutely rock your world.
Your guy's tongues moved rapidly together. His hands are all over you, one moment they rest upon your waist then the next he's cupping your flushed cheeks. You can't help but tangle your fingers in his deep brown hair, tugging and yanking on it.
This is truly not what you expected for this evening.
"Wait, wait, woah, woah, woah... We shouldn't." You lightly pushed him off of you as you ran your fingers through your hair. "You're right." Chris stated. You turned to face him. "But that doesn't mean I won't." You then kissed him again and this time, he walked with you until you hit your bum against his desk. He lifted you onto it, never breaking the sloppy kiss whilst doing so.
This is dangerous. It is so thrilling. It's fun. The fear of being caught is honestly just enticing. The fact that you may or may not be about to be fucked by your captain in his office is crazy to you. You broke from the kiss for a moment and smiled. "Captain..." "Call me Chris." He said with his forehead pressed against yours. "I want you." You said softly yet seductively. He smirked. "Oh yeah? How do you want me?" Oh, so he knows how to talk dirty. Perfect.
You cutely giggled and nibbled on your lower lip. "I want," your hands then went to his secure leather belt, tugging on it whilst you gazed into those sexy orbs. "To be fucked by you, right here, right now." You laughed and tilted your head to the side. He let out a breathless laugh and politely kissed your cheek. "You sure about that? I don't play nicely." He whispered in your ear. "Oh, I am very sure." You smiled before kissing him once again.
Chris let out a dark laugh before he ripped his belt off, allowing his jeans to fall to his ankles. You held onto his hips gently as he helped you lift your bum up, giving him the chance to take your jeans off. He took them off of your ankles and smiled. "You are just..." He looked you up and down. "Beautiful." It made you happy to hear that. You didn't think Chris thought of you this way.
You are wearing a matching set of a bra and panties. They are a deep shade of crimson red and the panties even have a cute dark purple bow on them. "Cute." Chris snorted before kissing you again. His lips trailed from your lips to your cheek, then to your neck where he then began to leave hickies all over it. All you could do was sit there and take it. You moaned, loudly. He knows what he's doing.
While he left hickies and love bites on your neck that'll surely catch the attention of some co-workers tomorrow, you could feel yourself damp against the line of your panties. You are yearning for him. Unfortunately, you are ovulating therefore you're a literal animal but hey, it's the way of womanly hood. You bit your lower lip as you felt him leave one final hickie onto your neck, the one that'll definitely be the most visible.
Chris pulled away with a devilish smirk. "You are so sexy... I've always thought that, you know?" He kissed you again and set one hand on your inner thigh, squeezing it and slapping it slightly before he then stuck part of his hand into your panties, making your breath shutter. "Oh?" You laughed out breathlessly, trying to remain calm. "Mhm, that's right." He kissed you again as his fingers began to play in your folds.
You let out a breath that you swear you've been holding this entire time. Your head tilted back as he played with your pussy so delicately. You bit your lower lip and whispered: "Chris... Fuck." You panted out. His fingers skillfully moved around your nub. The pressure in which he did it was perfect. You moaned in a needy way as he rubbed it faster, making you more and more wet. Fuck, he seriously knows what he's doing.
"Does that feel good?" Chris said softly against your ear before he nibbled on it. You nodded. "So good." You confirmed. It does. One finger swiftly moved along between your folds whilst his other one caressed her clit. "Mmm, good. You're so wet." He kissed your lips softly, pushed your head back a bit. "I am." You nodded. "Just for you." You giggled against his lips and you felt a dark smirk form on his face.
He pulled away for a moment before dropping his pair of underwear down to his ankles. Your mouth dropped as you saw his hardened cock in form before you. He's bigger than you expected. You looked up at him and smiled brightly, letting him know you are beyond ready for him. "Here." You lifted your hips up off of the desk, allowing him to pull your panties down, which he did. As he did, he laughed out as he looked at your pussy. "God, I need you-now."
You got yourself into a more comfortable position before he then set his hand on the desk, his other grabbing a hold of his member. "You ready princess?" "Mhm." You mumbled before kissing his cheek gently. This was it.
Chris then put his length deep within you. As he pushed himself in, all you could do was take in. You breathed in sharply and had your arms wrapped around his neck as he did, mainly for support. "You're so damn tight." He groaned into your ear as he settled into you. "So warm." You blushed as he spoke that way to you. It's turning you on way more. Fuck. You can't believe you're doing this with your very own boss.
He began to move into you. His thrusts were slow but deep. He made sure to be careful with you. "Does it feel nice?" Chris asked you softly. "Yes, it does... So nice..." You smiled as he fucked you with a pace that was perfect for you. Though, you wouldn't mind him being a bit rougher.
You placed your arms behind your back as he began to pick up the pace. Chris was still gentle, but you figure that won't last long. "God, I've thought of this so many times." He admitted. He has? That's took you by surprise. You leaned your head back and moaned loudly, the pleasure is impeccable. He drove his head into your neck and suckled on it, just as he had been earlier. That plus the fact he's fucking you was insanely sexy and made you feel so damn good.
"Fuck," Chris panted out as his movements began to pick up. He moved away from your neck and instead grasped it with his free hand, the other on the desk. "Look at me." He grunted, his thrusts now rough, making you dance internally. You looked at him dead in the eyes as he choked you. He did it firmly, and you thrived off of that. "Shit, harder, please." You whined out, never breaking the eye contact the two of you were sharing.
Before you knew it, your very own captain was pounding into you. The desk was shaking beneath you even. All you could do was sit there and take it because well, there was no getting out of this (Not that you wanted to). "Fuck, you like that? Rough?" "Uh-huh!" You moaned out, biting your lower lip and being a ragdoll as his disposable. "Good girl." He then let go of your neck and instead pressed his lips to yours, kissing you so passionately as he roughly moved into you.
Deep inside of you, you could feel it. That all too familiar feeling of ultimate pleasure. Admittedly, it's been a bit since you've felt it and it's none other than Chris bringing you to it. Your sense of reality slowly slipped out of your head as his relentless thrusts into you only kept up at the same roughness & hardness as they've been consistently going at. He noticed this. He smirked. "Gonna cum for me? Right on my desk?" He asked you in a low, sensual voice." All you could do was nod. Yes.
Just like that, you came. Your walls tightened around his length and he grunted before quickly pulling out and releasing on your lower stop... On your shirt... You didn't care though, at least not in the moment. How could you? You just got fucked absolutely senseless on your captains desk. All you did was smile and hold onto him for dear life as your orgasm slipped out of you gracefully.
Chris stepped away and admired you before picked up your pants and handing them to you. "Fucking hell." He laughed. "Fucking hell is right." You giggled in response as you put your underwear back on fully, then your jeans. He did the same except he didn't even bother with his belt. You stood up but almost fell over; Your legs felt like jelly. Chris snickered and grabbed your hips before looking down at you with a look of pride.
"You're proud of yourself, hm?" You smirked at him. "Very." He leaned down and kissed you softly, using one of his hands to cup your cheek. You melted. You didn't expect for him to act this way after the fact. Chris pulled away and kept his hand on your soft cheek. "I'll let you get back to work but uh," He caressed your cheek as he paused, "Come back to my office tomorrow, I'll buy us lunch." He kissed your forehead.
Now he's buying lunch for you two? Maybe he's a romantic.
Nodding, you let go of him and turned around. "Think you can walk?" He was being such a cocky asshat. You snorted and flipped him off playfully. "I'll manage." He winked at you and that was that.
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football-and-fanfics · 7 months ago
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The Medic #18 - Jude Bellingham
Who: Jude Bellingham Request: hi, so this request is about jude getting injured or just plain stressed on the pitch to the point where he has a panic attack. you (the medic) come and try to calm him down but it progressively gets worse, but obviously after like 10 minutes he does calm down. after that, you bring him off pitch and comfort him by like hugging? not like a ship just pure fluff :) thank u! Requested by: @pinkishpearls Word count: 1132 Warnings: contains descriptions of panic / anxiety attack.
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Already when he was changing into his kit before the match, Jude knew something was off with himself. The nerves he felt prior to England's first group stage match of this Euro 2024 weren't strange per se. They stood at the start of a big and important tournament, so nerves were normal, but not like this.
Whatever caused his nerves to spiral so out of control, was doing a demolition job on him already. Jude's hands shook as he pulled his shirt over his head, and his breath was high in his chest. Everything happened in a blur to Jude, as a panic so feral took a hold of him and he had no way to get himself out of it again. But the team was counting on him, so, against his better judgement, Jude pushed through it and stepped out onto the pitch anyway.
---
Jude should have spoken up, told someone that he wasn't feeling right. That realization dawned on him not even 15 minutes into the match. He suddenly felt like he lost all control over himself. His entire body trembled and breathing became harder with each rapid inhale, as it felt like his chest was being squeezed to bits. The stadium swam in and out of focus around him.
Jude wasn't actively aware that he had sunk to the ground, sitting in a heap. The only thing he could focus on was how absolutely terrifying this feeling was, and how it scared him even more that he had no control over it whatsoever. People around him seemed to freak out, which did nothing either to ease Jude's still rising panic.
"Jude?" A soft, gentle hand wrapping around his wrist made Jude the slightest bit aware of his surroundings again. He glanced up to find you sitting on your haunches in front of him. "I... something's wrong... I'm scared." Jude managed to get out in between rapid, hitching pants of breath. You nodded understandingly. "I'm going to take you back inside, okay? We're going to take you out of the match and see what's going on."
You had needed only one look at Jude to know he would not be able to continue this match. Your hand around his wrist also doubled as a heart rate check, which you found racing, but steady and strong. Already you leaned towards the diagnosis of a panic attack.
Jude let himself be helped to his feet, but he looked like a deer in the headlights as he walked beside you off the pitch. You had the distinct feeling he was trying to keep it at least a little bit together as long as he was in view of the public.
And indeed...
You had set only a few steps into the players' tunnel when Jude broke completely. "I c-can't do it!" Everything about him shook with emotion, and tears were streaming down his face now. "What's happening to me? Why am I feeling like this?" "Jude, Jude." You moved to stand in front of him, resting your hands on his arms. "Calm down. You're having a panic attack. I know it's really scary, but I need to you to try and calm down." Jude frantically shook his head, gulping for air, and completely out of control over himself.
You recognized how this was going from bad to worse, and how you needed to diffuse this situation somehow. "Come on, we'll find some place quieter." You gently took him by the elbow and steered him into the first empty treatment room you came across. You ushered Jude inside and closed the door behind the both of you.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Jude repeated the words over and over. He paced up and down the small room, trembling and crying. "Calm down, it'll be alright." You spoke calmly as you stepped into the path of his pacing. "I'm guessing the stress and nerves for today got a little bit too much. That's nothing to be ashamed of, but I do need you to calm down." Jude looked at you with eyes filled with tears. "I don't know how."
Your heart broke for him, so much hurt emanated from him. "But I do know what might help." You smiled warmly. "Come here." You opened your arms and invited him into an embrace. Jude didn't hesitate for a second. He almost launched himself at you, burying his face in your shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around you. You answered his embrace by gently rubbing his back and speaking soft words of comfort.
It might not be the most conventional way, but it worked for Jude. Where he had been trembling and crying before, he finally seemed to calm down after a while. Still, he held on to your embrace, and you let him.
On the other side of the door sounded the stampede of players and staff coming back in for half-time. Jude made absolutely no move to go see his teammates in the dressing room, and you were fine with that. It was all up to Jude to determine what he felt ready for.
"No, get away from me! Tell me where he is, I need to see him!"
A sudden ruckus from outside made you and Jude finally release the embrace. The both of you easily recognized Trent's Scouse accent, and he sounded absolutely freaked out. You exchanged a look with Jude. "He's worried about me," Jude said softly. "Yeah." Those were exactly your thoughts, too. "Do you feel up to talking to him?" "Yes." Jude nodded. "I can't leave him this distraught."
You opened the door and poked your head out. A little further down the hallway stood Trent, looking panicked now, too. "Trent." You called him over. Trent sprinted over to you. "Is he in there with you? Is he alright?" "Easy," you soothed, "he's fine. He had a panic attack, but he's starting to feel better already."
Trent was relieved to hear your words, but still trotted past you into the treatment room. He flung himself at Jude, almost knocking him clean off his feet, and pulled his friend into a tight bear hug. "Thank heavens you're alright!" Trent exclaimed. "I was so worried." "I'm alright now." Jude tried to ease Trent. Trent released the hug and stepped back a few paces. "Don't mind if I needed to see that for myself. You scared me senseless just now!" Jude smiled a little awkwardly. "I'm sorry about that."
"So there's nothing seriously wrong?" Trent now turned to you. "No." You shook your head. "He's going to be perfectly fine. A panic attack feels and looks really scary, though." "Yeah." Jude passed a hand over his face, but a weary smile played on his lips, too. "I can definitely confirm that."
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littlelamy · 4 days ago
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Request idea, I don’t know if you write for Zach Maclaren (but otherwise I guess….a slight non canon Soft!Rafe, no way canon Rafe would be like this, anyways: I got this thought watching the very beginning of the horror movie (but make it romantic ey) Reader is about to check into her airbnb but discovers there is already a guy there  who has also booked the Airbnb, it’s been double booked by the host. He feels bad that she can’t find anywhere else to stay since it’s so late at night, so he offers her to stay over the night. The start of a sweet, gentle unexpected romance where he keeps doing cute awkward things to gain her trust and show he is not some psycho/weirdo, kinda like the movie (the male character waited to open a wine bottle so she could see him do it so she feels safe to drink it, he suggested making her tea again and for him to watch him since she did not drink the tea he made)
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the neon glow of the porch light buzzed weakly, flickering against the creeping dark of the countryside. the night air was thick with the scent of damp wood and distant pine, the kind of quiet that made the world feel abandoned. you pulled your coat tighter around yourself, your overnight bag digging into your shoulder as you stepped onto the front porch of the isolated airbnb.
except—
the door was already open.
your fingers tightened around your phone as you hesitated at the threshold. the host had sent you the check-in instructions just an hour ago, a breezy message about how the key would be under the potted plant by the door. but now the entrance yawned open, warm light spilling from inside, and a figure stood in the center of the rustic living room. a tall, slightly disheveled man with a duffel bag at his feet, blinking at you in surprise.
his eyebrows lifted, then furrowed. “uh. hi?”
you sucked in a breath, heart hammering. “hi.”
a beat of silence stretched between you both, thick and awkward. then his lips quirked at the edges, amusement flashing in his eyes.
“did—” you started, gripping your phone tighter. “are you the owner?”
he huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “no. i booked this place for the night.”
your stomach dropped. “that’s not possible. i also booked this place for the night.”
his blue eyes widened, something like understanding clicking into place. he dragged a hand through his hair, messy strands shifting under his fingers. “oh, man. you’re kidding.”
“nope.”
another pause. then, a sheepish smile tugged at his lips, dimples showing. “that’s… definitely a problem.”
you exhaled, shuffling your weight from foot to foot. your day had already been long, and the thought of hunting down another vacancy in this middle-of-nowhere town this late at night made exhaustion sink into your bones. “yeah. big problem.”
he seemed to pick up on your hesitation, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, uh, if you’re not comfortable staying here with a total stranger, i get it. i can sleep in my car.”
you glanced out into the night, at the vast emptiness of the countryside. your conscience twinged. “that doesn’t seem fair.”
he hesitated. then, with a slow, teasing grin, “we could… both stay? i promise i don’t bite. unless you want me to.”
you narrowed your eyes, but your lips threatened to curl into a smile. “smooth. real smooth.”
he laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck again. “worth a shot.”
crossing your arms, you took a step forward, your body brushing just slightly against his as you entered. he smelled good—clean, warm, something a little woodsy. you told yourself not to notice.
“and how do i know you’re not a serial killer?” you asked, tilting your head.
he let out a soft chuckle, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “fair point. i, uh, could give you my id? let you take a picture of it. i’ll even let you watch me make my tea so you know i’m not drugging anything.”
“tempting,” you mused, biting the inside of your cheek. “but i think i’ll keep an eye on you just in case.”
you studied him. he seemed harmless, all boyish uncertainty and awkward sincerity, but there was a flicker of charm beneath it, something playful lingering in his expression. slowly, you stepped over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.
his lips quirked in relief. “cool. so… i’m zach.”
“nice to meet you, zach. i’m y/n. and just so you know, i get the bedroom.”
his laughter was warm, something easy settling in the space between you both. he held a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “damn. you’re ruthless.”
“you have no idea,” you teased, dropping your bag onto the couch.
he grinned, eyes twinkling. “guess i’ll just have to win you over then.”
and just like that, the night stretched ahead, uncertain yet oddly promising.
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lamy's notes: i hope you liked it!
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