#but instead i sat down for an hour last night drawing the second one
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Synopsis: Kaiser’s dream of glory comes true, but his victory feels hollow.
*✧・゚: *✧・゚:
The energy in the stadium was electric; people were crazy. The crowd was roaring for Kaiser. The lights shone bright, and the chants of his name echoed, everything felt surreal. Football was his life, his savior, his everything. But as he stood there, triumphant and soaked in sweat, a weight settled in his chest like never before.
The locker room was filled with excitement, but Kaiser sat quietly in a corner, a towel draped over his head, lost in thought. His mind was elsewhere.
It had been weeks since he'd last seen his lover, (Y/N).
(Y/N), a man who once was his silent shelter against the world's noise, his refuge. A touch from him, his smile, or even a look into his eyes were capable of drawing Kaiser from all turmoil within himself back into a tranquil lake. From the moment he began with nothing, the beginning, in itself-he'd seen him work so hard and struggle. And all through it, during every fall and after, even at moments when he'd wonder what everything was about, he'd have Y/N beside him.
But he wasn't here now.
The argument was still echoing in Kaiser's ears, louder than the cheers surrounding him. It had happened a week before the semifinals, a time when they should have been celebrating one of his biggest wins; instead, they were at each other's throats, saying words sharper than they wanted to.
"You're never here, Kaiser," Y/N had said shaking. "You keep talking of the future, about 'one day,' yet it's the same. Constantly football and always something big and more important than me. You just don't see me in that future you are talking of."
"That's not fair," Kaiser had snapped, on the defense. "You knew what this was about when you began dating me. This is my dream, (Y/N). You should get that. You more than anyone else should understand!"
"I get it!" Y/N had shouted, tears welled in his eyes. "But what about my dreams? What about us? What about my feelings? Are we just something you fit in in the cracks between the matches and training sessions?"
Kaiser had gone quiet, unable to answer.
"I can't keep doing this," he'd murmured, the anger sizzling out into exhaustion. "I can't keep being your second choice. I can't keep being the one you seek only when you're not shining on the field."
Kaiser wanted to say something-he really wanted to assure (Y/N) that things would be different, that things would change. But the words got caught in his throat, entangled in a truth he couldn't face. Football did come first. It had to. It was his dream, after all. A part of his everything.
(Y/N) had walked away that night, his absence louder than anything he could have said.
Now, sitting in the locker room, Kaiser felt that absence weighing down on him like a rock. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the unanswered texts he had sent to him. Each one was a little more desperate than the last.
Please, talk to me.
I didn't mean for it to be like this.
I need you, (Y/N).
But (Y/N) didn't answer.
A hand clapped Kaiser on the shoulder, jerking him back to the present. It was Noel Noa. "Press is waiting for you, Kaiser."
Kaiser nodded slowly, still in a haze. Standing up and plastering on a smile that felt fake, he went to talk to them. Everything felt like a lie today.
The press conference was a blur as reporters bombarded him with questions about his goal, the team's strategy, and his future. Kaiser answered like a robot, his mind elsewhere, somewhere with Y/N.
Later, standing alone in the parking lot, the night was eerily quiet. It was almost like the world was taunting his loud mind. He made one last call. It rang endlessly, and just when Kaiser thought it would go to voicemail again, (Y/N) finally answered.
“Kaiser,” (Y/N)’s voice sounded tired and distant.
“I won,” Kaiser said, his voice shaky. “We’re heading to the finals.”
There was an uneasy silence that lasted for what felt like hours. "Congratulations" a soft reply was muttered by (Y/N).
Kaiser's eyes screwed shut because this pain he was feeling had very almost reached its maximum threshold. "I wish you were here."
"I cannot be," responded Y/N. "I can't keep looking at you when you're not even gazing at me."
Kaiser's throat lumped. "It's not like this; to me, you're everything."
"But not enough," he cut in. "Not enough to be first for you. Maybe we weren't meant to be after all."
Kaiser was wordless. "I hope you win," (Y/N) said with a soft tone, and the call ended.
The silence hung between them, heavy and final.
He was there for quite a while-the stadium sounds diminished, the ache in his chest not going away, reminding him of what he'd lost.
Kaiser lowered his phone, staring at the screen as if it could somehow bring back Y/N. But it didn't.
In the end, Kaiser had chosen football. And it had cost him the one thing he could never get back.
And maybe, maybe after all Y/N was a part of his everything, but it was too late.
- 𝐊𝐒
#anime#blue lock#blue lock kaiser#bllk kaiser#michael kaiser#kaiser x reader#x male reader#gay#angst#one shot#os
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GOOD COP || alessia russo
lil halloween inspired fic. tbh i dunno what this is- half of it i wrote at the start of the month if i’m be honest with you all
a little bit suggestive.
masterlist
“baby? c’mon we need to be heading out!” you called out from the other side of the bathroom door, alessia had been in there for at least forty five minutes getting ready for the night.
you and alessia going to a halloween party that one of the arsenal girls had set up. you and alessia had decided to do a couple costume, alessia as a police women and you as her prisoner.
you had gotten ready in record speed time, all you had to do was put on a bright orange jumpsuit with a white tank top underneath, and scrape your hair back into a bun. but alessia was always one to take her time when getting ready no matter the occasion.
“we’re gonna have them all teasing us again, if we’re late” you carried on as you walked a little further down the hallway to get your phone which had been sat on charge in your shared bedroom for the past half an hour.
a small chuckle leaving your lips as you spoke, remembering all the teasing comments the team made about you and alessia the last time you arrived at the gathering late. it was only by ten minutes but the team had a way with words by saying you were both too in love?
you shaking your head at their teasing comments as you remember alessia’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. if you could be too in love with someone than that’s definitely a level you were at with alessia as you look at her as if she is the one who hangs the stars in the sky at night.
pulling you out your daydream as you hear the bathroom door click open and alessia’s sock covered footsteps get closer to you. a slight push of the bedroom door and there she was, a slight gasp coming from you as she entered the room, your jaw dropping.
“it’s too much isn’t it. i’ll go-” alessia mumbled seeing your reaction however you weren’t gasping at her in a bad way, quite the opposite actually.
“no- don’t.” you quickly choked out as alessia was about to spin on her heels. “you look gorgeous, my girl.” you smiled taking her in her outfit and how sexy she looked in it.
black shorts which were short but hugged her legs in all the right spots, some black fishnet tights lining her long legs and a black v neck polo on her top half. a silver police badge on her chest and a belt with silver hand cuffs hanging down from the side as her hair was curled lightly at the ends.
“you think?” alessia asked clearly unsure scanning her outfit over once again, but as she looked up seeing the smirk on your face she knew that the outfit had clearly had some sort of affect on you.
“oh baby i don’t think, i know” you whispered as you stood up from the edge of the bed inching closer to her, your hand’s slithering around her waist pulling her closer to you with a sudden urgency that had spiked.
your eyes flick between her eyes and her lips, words being spoken without the use of actual words as you close the gap. capturing her lips in a kiss which starts slow and sweet, a kiss that doesn’t need to ask for permission instead takes before it turns hungry and desperate.
alessia’s mouth moving against yours with an urgency which only matches your own and the taste of her is intoxicating with a slight hint of the lip gloss she’d probably put on near moments before hand.
the kiss deepening and growing more intense by the second as your pressing instinct each other as both your hands roam and tug each other as if you both can’t bare there to be any distance between the two of you.
your hands finding the back of her neck, pulling alessia impossibly closer as her hands possessively grip your waist making your head spin.
your lips leaving hers as a small whine slips from her at the loss of contact as you trail kisses from her lips and down to her neck. finding her sweet spot and sucking harshly on it, drawing a moan from her as you graze your teeth along her skin. your skin lighting on fire from the sounds escaping from her pretty lips
“do we have to go-” you breathed out against her neck as a small giggle came from her as you went back to nipping at her neck small whispers falling from her lips.
“we wouldn’t hear the end of it if we didn’t show” alessia managed to squeak out as a small huff came from you as your teeth sunk into her, you were all worked up and wanted to instead be falling through the bed sheets not through club doors.
you reaching up to move a strand of alessia’s hair behind her ear as you nibbled slightly on her earlobe, “make sure you don’t lose them handcuffs. they’ll come in handy later darling.”
#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo x y/n#alessia russo#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso blurbs#awfc#arsenal women#arsenal wfc#woso one shot#woso fanfics#arsenal#enwoso
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(continuation of this piece. part ii of regency au with jing yuan)
"he needs to stop doing this."
you tell lord luocha this as you stumble out of your one room cottage, desperately attempting to smooth down your day gown. your palms shake as you do and you shoot your patron an angry look.
lord luocha looks perfectly passive, painfully neutral with a hint of mirth. the bastard. "i think it's quite appropriate for the general to call upon you this hour of the day. i thought you would be prepared."
"i am not an 'eligible lady' as i am so often reminded," you shake your head. "i cannot constantly be ready to take his company, just because it's before supper. be reasonable, my lord. speak with him about this."
"perhaps," luocha tilts his head with the barest hint of a smile. "i'll consider it. for now, why don't you go greet our guest? i'll have some refreshments sent in."
"fine." you say. your voice wavers.
this is not the first time the retired general, Jing Yuan, has called upon you. it's more like the fifth. maybe sixth. it is more frightening to keep count of his increasingly frequently visits (as they clearly indicate some type of explicit interest), so you stopped counting them recently. peace of mind and all.
you enter the drawing with and bow to the general without thinking, "good afternoon, general."
"likewise," he says easily, voice so deep and rich; it makes your insides feel wobbly.
jing yuan sits on one of the loveseats, legs tastefully spread and in some amount of regalia. well-dressed, certainly. his hair is half-tied up as he so favors, and his face has a healthy amount of blush. a crisp jaw. bulging forearms and thighs beneath his various dressings. a broad chest. it is hard not to ogle him overtly. you train your gaze on the hand-tufted rug before rising and daintily (as you can) sit across from him on the other side of the loveseat. you tuck your legs to the side, barely remembering to not fully fold them under yourself. decorum and all.
(it feels foolish. jing yuan hardly seem to care. lord luocha thinks your bumbling is amusing.)
"i apologize for the intrusion," he says. he squeezes his hands into loose fists. you don't miss the action. "will you indulge me for a time?"
"i'm already here, aren't i?" you quip back, tone light. easy. "i don't mind the company."
there's more you could say—
("general, i think you are so very kind and thoughtful. thank you for spending your spare time with me.")
("general, i am sorry i can't attend any of the balls and festivities as anything more than a performer. i would not mind being on your arm, if circumstances were different, and you desired it so".)
("general, how much longer will you entertain this? are you intending to steal my heart, only to break it?"
instead, you remain quiet, picking at your nailbeds. jing yuan watches you with a hum. flexes his hands.
"are you working on any new pieces?" he asks.
"a few, actually." you reply. "the muses have been kind to me."
"oh?" he smiles. he tilts his head cutely, almost boyish, despite his age. "may i ask the subject matter?"
"ah—" you feel your face heat. "a number of things. subject matters. a varying themes."
truthfully, you have started four new paintings in the last week. all of which were started in moments of such deep inspirations, they had you painting and laying base colors from sunrise until sunset. it just so happens that these... works have. a clear theme. that of the general.
(during his second visit, he commented on the blooming azaleas. you've been obsessed with perfecting the shape of their petals. his third visit, you sat on the same seat as him. you were so much closer then, and found yourself lost in the honey color of his eyes. the punch of purple underneath them, an accumulation of sleepless nights. another is of a lion, like that of his crest. the final is a portrait of him that has you committing every bit of him to memory. perhaps you'll be able to capture his likeness with your memory if the muses continue to favor you.)
"you're quite the varied artist." he leans his jaw on his fist. "your dedication to your craft is most admirable."
"i cannot help the ways in which inspiration forces me to act," or, to thirst over the man in front of you. god forbid a parched man be given drink so fine. you shake your head. "i have had... some amount of increased, enjoyable, new interactions over the past while. i suppose i'm feeling invigored."
"oh?" jing yuan looks smitten. his eyes go half-lidded. "may i guess the source of your inspiration?"
"if you do, you'll only embarrass me."
"so, you think i will be right in my guess then?"
"i know so." you roll your eyes, sheepish. "i am not foolish enough to think i could hide face and play games with the Divine Foresight and win."
"you underestimate yourself."
"hardly. have you... met yourself, general?"
"often, frequently." he nods to himself. he catches your gaze. it's piercing. "i find myself in the mirror, often, these days. i tell myself that i am spry enough and have retained enough charm through my years to properly court and woo the recluse, genius artist i have been stealing time from. i meet the man in my mirror and think that he is quite clever, but tends to underestimate you as well."
your breath is caught in your chest. you scrunch the skirt of your dress up in your palms and swallow.
"the general speaks freely and foolishly."
"and yet, i do not lie."
"... you are brazen."
"do you not require such treatment?" jing yuan laughs sweetly. "if i were any more gentle with you, you would've already retreated far into your lord's gardens. i wouldn't hope to see you again. you will need to forgive me for my shamelessness."
"... i could perhaps be convinced." you scoot closer on the love seat. you should. create space away from him. before you do something stupid and unbecoming. but you find yourself drawn closer. "the general is a kind man. good-hearted."
"such a charitable assessment."
"i know it to be true." you do know. the man keeps his own gardens, tends them himself. he pays his servants good wages and left war and bloodshed behind sometime ago. "i would like to get to know his good heart more."
jing yuan steels himself then. you watch it happen. his spine straightens, his throat bobs. sweat beads at his temples, you now notice. his keeps his hands in his lap, wringing them together.
"then we are in agreement?"
"... only if the general treats me well." you stumble over your words. "only if you treat me well, general."
"jing yuan, please."
"fine. jing yuan, then." it takes everything in you not to reach for his hands. your last threads of civility barely remaining. "will you treat me well, jing yuan?"
he breathes. you feel the warm exhale of it fan over your cheeks. your gaze drops to the softness of his bottom lip.
"only the best, for you."
"so, you're smitten with me?"
"simply struck." he gulps. you need him, you decide, decorum be damned. you lean forward, just as he does. you can hear the tremor of your breath in time with his—
the door the drawing room opens, suddenly, with a resounding thud. you jump away from the general, a hand over your heart. you attempt to not noticeably pant, though you perhaps fail. lord luocha raises a knowing eyebrow as a few of his staff bring in a platter of a small treats and bubbly drinks in fluted glasses.
"forgive the intrusion," luocha places a hand on jing yuan's shoulder. the general straightens up. "i figured that you two must be in need some of refreshments. may i suggest a walk in the garden, later? perhaps, you could show him your herb patches, [name]."
lord luocha shoots you a knowing look.
(said patch of herbs is just outside of your cottage. a good distance away from the main estate.)
"i'd love to." you swallow and shake your head. "if the general will deign to spend a bit more time with me."
jing yuan looks at you, really looks at you, and smiles. it is an honest, genuine thing. you are glad luocha is at his back, so only you can see the earnest of it. it is something special, you think, just for you.
"as much as you will allow me."
and you will give him as much as you can muster.
#lore writes#drabbles#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#hsr x reader#i told y'all he haunts me#you're both so smitten with each other so beloved so DEAAAR#jy regency au
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yeah this got 18+ real quick - smut warning!
imagine MITCH RAPP during a time when he is allowed peace; a life away from correcting the world of its crimes, waking up in the same bed every day with the absence of worry, contentment riddled so deep in his bones that he can draw a deep breath and finally feel tranquillity. he can sit in his designated armchair each morning, drinking his stupid imported coffee from the ugly mug you got him last christmas. he can sit at the dining table, across from you, sharing a meal and discussing your days, every day. he can lead a life with a promised future, and not one where he was unsure whether he'd make it out alive. just imagine it.
now, imagine him feeling so settled and fulfilled in his life, that he kneels down on one knee. he knows that there is that promised future, and those lazy sunday mornings, and more christmases with more ugly mugs. he knows that you'll crawl on his lap as he sat in that armchair, snuggled up watching movies into the darkness of the night. he knows that you will make him meals, and he would make you some too, before you share them across the table for the rest of your lives. mitch on his knee, a ring held so carefully between his fingers as they slightly shook. he had hope filling his beautiful brown eyes - a golden tone to match the colour of the band. he had felt loss so strongly in his past that it provoked him to be an empty shell. until he met you, until he learnt to love you unconditionally. and you love him too, despite his demons.
"it would be the greatest honour to have you by my side for the rest of our lives. i love you so fucking much. marry me."
to which you would reply with a teary, "of course."
imagine that months had passed. and that the love only grew stronger. imagine standing at the end of the alter with him, as he insisted that he held your hands throughout the entire ceremony, even through his vowels, which he had been memorising for months. his eyes unable to leave yours for a mere second as he stood mesmerised by your beauty on this special day. mitch would feel so lucky that he could call you his forever. flash forward to your first dance, and you both have two left feet. it was a mess, so you stuck to rocking side-to-side, giggling like school kids, impressed when he managed to twirl and dip you without fail. you both decided to feed each other your first slice of wedding cake, but you got his nose instead. on purpose. he knew that it was coming, call it assassin instincts. but he could only laugh before smashing his lips against yours, frosting decorating your cheeks in utter joviality.
now imagine a few hours later, and mitch had you pressing hands and knees into the mattress of your hotel room. your stature was wobbly, his fault, of course, after he priorly had his head between your thighs for what felt like forever. and he ate you out so fucking good, too. his blunted nails leaving crescent marks embedded in the flesh of your thighs, your hips, your stomach. the tip of his nose was dragging over your clit with such force as he tried to bury his tongue so deep inside your cunt. relishing in how you'd constrict around the muscle. and the moans that'd draw from your lips was a fucking symphony if he'd ever heard one. his lips sucked and swallowed as you writhed and panted. you were so close that you could reach out to the stars and touch them as they dizzied your view. but he stopped abruptly. teasing you. and mitch couldn't hold back the smirk that had tugged at his sopping glistening lips as you protested.
he was aiming for an orgasm that would take you to the edge and over. mitch was grasping your hips, pulling you back to him when you started to buckle and lose your strength. skin on skin slapping, reverberating off the four walls. your ass was red from his large hands as they fondled and slapped, only to be soothed by gentle rubs from calloused fingers. you were painted on different marks as your body filled with sensation, as mitch admired them proudly as his eyes lazily dragged down from your purple splotchy neck. your head dropped to the side as your cheek grazed the bedsheet, his name slipping past your lips like a prayer, begging for him. you were close, again.
mitch had a soft side, as you learnt quickly after meeting him. he was generous and sweet. incredibly kind-hearted when he wanted to be. which is why he treated you with such fragility as he slowed his thrusts, the plummeting now nothing but an idle wait. as much as it hurt his throbbing cock, he pulled out from you and wrapped his arms under your frame, gentle as he turned you over. with your back now pressed to the bed, mitch kissed over your eyes as they remained closed, still floating in your upcoming orgasm. waiting.
"let me see you, baby. open 'em for me." his voice was soothing but you still whined, lost in euphoria. mitch chuckled, his breath heavy before his lips kissed over your own, "i want to see your face when you cum for the first time as mrs rapp..."
tears brimmed your waterline but you had never smiled so wide as when you saw the love that exuded from this man, before he was lining himself up again. the tip of his cock tapped against your clit as you cried, pushing yourself up to indicate that you needed him. as your walls incased him completely, mitch's body lowered, his chest sweaty as it stuck against yours, one hand tangled in your own as the other braced itself, white-knuckled, beside your head. his hips drove deep into your core. tapping your inner walls, and you continued to cry out his name as he attempted to soothe you with sloppy bruising kisses on your collarbone, and up toward your ear. you were so tight. it felt dangerous, daring, the way you were squeezing and milking this man for everything he had. and yet he was so utterly addicted to you.
the moment before the release was always one that he cherished. the adrenaline rush was one unmatched, how you both reeked with desperation, how sighs and pants and moans grew louder and louder. the way you would beg one another for more, the 'pleases' and 'thank yous' mixed among the cussing and chanting of 'fuck fuck fuck' over and over again until the explosion. he loved these moments. but when you came? the second you arched so high off the bed that he used all his force to hold you down? when he came himself the second you pulled at his hair in absolute pleasure?
that was his crowning glory moment.
that's when mitch rapp knew that he finally found peace.
#mitch rapp#mitch rapp x reader#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien x reader#american assassin#mitch rapp fic#mitch rapp imagine#mitch rapp blurb#mitch rapp smut#dylan o'brien smut#dylan o'brien fic#dylan o'brien imagine#stiles stilinski x reader#YOOOO have a good ol sex fic
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Chickening Out
word count: 630 || avg. reading time: 3 mins
pairing: Oikawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh4)
genre: fluff
warnings: none
synopsis: Oikawa couldn’t pull through kissing you and his friends find out
“What do you think happened?”, Matsukawa whispered to the others.
He, Iwaizumi and Hanamaki stood in their captain's bedroom, looking down at the bulk of blankets hiding the boy.
“Sick?”, Hanamaki suggested.
“Dead?”, shrugged Matsukawa.
“Rejected?”, Iwaizumi offered with an indifferent groan.
“He hasn’t even touched his milk bread yet.”, Hanamaki said, adding, in his mind, a piece to the puzzle as he pointed to the little bag they had carefully placed by the pillow as to draw their friend out.
“You think it has something to do with the new girl he’s been running after the past month?”, Matsukawa asked, his arms crossed in front of his chest, examining Oikawa’s form closer, maybe to check for breathing.
Iwaizumi nodded knowingly.
“Do you think she slapped him for pulling something weird?”, Hanamaki wondered, feigning scandal by raising his hand to his mouth.
Matsukawa tilted his head and shrugged again, not excluding the possibility.
“Would serve him right, being rejected by a girl like that.”
“A girl like that?”
“Yeah, one you’d actually want to date.”, Iwaizumi explained and the other two nodded in agreement.
After a short stretch of silence, Hanamaki asked, "Has anyone checked if she is still alive?"
"Oh my god, guys, I can hear you.", came Oikawa’s muffled voice from under the blanket.
They took a precautionary step back when he lifted the cover and rubbed his face.
"Come on, Trashykawa, you missed our morning jog. We just wanted to check if you’re still breathing.", Iwaizumi explained and approached his friend's bedside, thinking for a second, then retreated again and sat down on the desk chair, the others following his example of bringing distance between them and the glaring setter.
"What happened last night?", Hanamaki asked again.
Oikawa really did not feel like sharing.
"Nothing.", he turned his back to them when he put his feet on the floor, looking for his slippers.
"So, you struck out?", Iwaizumi asked bluntly.
Aware of the fact that they would not stop pestering him until he told them, he took a deep breath and recounted last night’s events. How he helped you study (not missing to tell them how adorable you looked in your home clothes and how your school uniform didn’t even do your cute squishy form justice), how you had fallen asleep at the desk about two hours into your study. How he had brushed your hair out of your face and just watched you sleep for a while, making sure you were comfortable and just as he was leaning in to take a picture of your adorable expression you had woken up and sleepily apologized for nodding off. Oikawa had then realized just how close your face was to his and how desperately he wanted to kiss you. And so he had packed his books, given a lame excuse and stormed out of your room instead.
“You… you ran away?”
“She was almost asleep, okay? Would you want your first kiss with someone to be when they are asleep?”
“So what are you gonna do now? Just never talk to her again?”, Iwaizumi lifted a mocking eyebrow, hoping his friend would understand that this was not an option.
"What could I possibly tell her, though?"
"Say… say you remembered that you had early morning training, which you did by the way, and that you only then realized how late it already was.", Hanamki suggested.
"You really think she'd believe that?", Oikawa asked, doubtfully.
Matsukawa snorted. "No, but what else can you say that doesn't make you a coward?"
He effortlessly caught the pillow Oikawa threw at him.
#oikawa x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#chubby reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#oikawa tōru#oikawa x you#oikawa fluff#oikawa x reader#hq oikawa#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa tooru#oikawa toru x reader#oikawa torū#seijoh four#hq fluff#haikyuu x curvy reader
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To Be This Close
Pairing - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Summary - It’s been a while since you and Bruce were last intimate and Bruce is going to make it up to you.
Warnings - 18+ content, Shameless Smut, Cockwarming, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dirty Talk, Begging, Praise Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, Aftercare, Fluff, Cuddling, Softdom!Bruce Wayne
A/N - The horny demon possessed me late last night and after reading through it this morning (and editing because 3am me cannot spell to save her life) I’m really happy with how this turned out. Enjoy!
Word Count - 3.3k
“Bruce, please,” you whined softly.
Bruce chuckled deeply, the arm wrapped around your waist tightened, pulling you more firmly against his chest and stopping you from potentially moving. “Come on sweetheart, you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight. You can wait a little longer,” he told you.
You whined again, trying your best to wiggle your hips, but unable to thanks to the grip he had on you. You had been sat here for hours now, straddling his lap, his cock buried deep inside of your needy, dripping pussy that was desperate for some friction.
“But Bruce—” you were cut off with a gasp as he lightly smacked your ass. A warning.
“Just a little longer and I’ll give you exactly what you want. I promised didn’t I, baby?”
Indeed he had.
After a restless and irritating night in bed alone, you had come down here to the cave in search for him. Between a long business trip and him diving head first back into case files the second he arrived back to Gotham, it had been quite a while since you had last been intimate with each other. And your body yearned for his.
When he spotted you entering the cave, you had expected him to tell you he would be up in a little bit. His way of getting you to leave the cave. He didn’t like it when you came down here. Always worried that you would somehow injure yourself on a piece of equipment he had laying around. But he didn’t tell you to leave.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you had come down wearing nothing, but one of his shirts and a lacey black thong, your smooth legs on display and your nipples hard and showing through the shirt, thanks to the cold air. Instead of sending you away while barely looking at you, he’d turned his chair around and invited you over. When you were close enough, Bruce pulled you onto his lap, getting you to straddle him as he started kissing you with fiery passion as he easily undid the buttons on the shirt and removed it from your body, letting it fall to the floor. As he continued to kiss you, his hand drifted down to your thong, fingers hooking into it so he could move it to the side, instead of simply ripping it off of you.
His calloused fingers slid through your already glistening folds, brushing against your clit making you gasp and your hips buck. He hummed softly, circling his fingers around your clitoris slowly, drawing a moan from you.
“Already so wet and needy for me, sweetheart?”
You nodded quickly, not caring how desperate it made you look. Despite the chill of the cave, your entire body felt like it was on fire. Weeks without touching each other had left you extremely wound up.
“I’ve been neglecting you, huh?” he continued, tutting. “How awful of me. I promise I’ll make it up to you, give you everything you want—” he pressed open mouthed kisses to your throat, his tongue flicking over your pulse point— “but there’s something I need you to do for me first.”
You nodded. “Anything.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s cold down here and I need to finish up with this file.” Much to your disappointment, he stopped playing with your clitoris, his hand coming up to join his other one to cup your breasts, running his thumbs over your hardened nipples. “Think you can help me keep warm?”
You knew exactly what he was getting at and you were more than happy to oblige. You and Bruce had done this quite a few times in the past. He had brought it up first, after a long and hard night on patrol. In the past, you hadn’t understood why some men loved cockwarming so much, but after that first time? Oh, you absolutely got it. You loved it.
The feeling of being so close to each other, physically connected in such a significant way and then just relaxing and holding each other. The intimacy of it all was unmatched. It was a chance to be as close to each other as was physically possible, for an extended period of time, as well as drawing out the intimacy and pleasure of sex. On top of that, you were both constantly edging each other the entire time, which only made that final climax all that more powerful for the both of you.
Other than that very first night, neither of you lasted for very long. An hour, sometimes an hour and a half, would pass before both of you would lose patience and couldn’t stop yourselves. You wondered how long you would last tonight.
You raised yourself up as he freed his half hard cock from his suit. Batting his hand way, you took a hold of his cock, stroking him to full hardness. You slid down onto him, moaning loudly as he filled you up, stretching you so deliciously.
And here you were, still keeping his cock nice and warm. His perfect little cockwarmer. However, with every passing minute you were growing more and more impatient while Bruce didn’t seem to be effected by it at all. His eyes remained trained on the computer screen, his free hand typing faster than you thought possible.
A small and needy whine escaped your lips as your velvety walls squeezed around his cock. Anything to try and break him, getting him to finally move. Instead he slapped your ass again. Harder this time, making you yelp. He immediately soothed your ass cheek, before giving it a good squeeze.
“What happened to my good girl?” he asked. He stopped typing, his hand settling on your other ass cheek. With his impressive strength, he lifted you up off his cock, keeping just the head inside of you. Though you knew that he had a firm grip on you, that he wouldn’t let you fall, out of instinct you gripped his biceps, nails digging in. “I only asked you to do one thing for me tonight before I give you what you want, can you tell me what it was?”
“Keep your cock nice and warm while you finish your case file.”
“Hmmm, and what do I not want you to do while you warm my cock?”
“You don’t want me to move, beg, whine or be bratty,” you replied.
“So are you going to be a good cockwarmer for me? Are you going to behave?”
You nodded. “Yes. I’ll behave.”
He let go of you, letting gravity slam you back down onto his cock, hard, making you cry out. It echoed off of the walls of the cave, disturbing the bats high above you, squeaking and flapping their wings in dismay. His hands settled onto your hips, stroking them softly, soothing you. Despite how worked up you were, your body started to respond to his touch. You relaxed against him, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. You smiled and took a deep breath, breathing his scent in; a mixture of expensive cologne, kevlar, metal and sweat. It was comforting. It was home.
“There’s my good girl.” His praise had you feeling all warm inside, making you smile, as you melted against him. Your need was still an ever present knot deep within your core, but it felt smaller now, less persistent as he kept up his soothing and comforting touches.
After a time, you became aware of Bruce nibbling and gently tugging on your ear, while his hands kneaded and squeezed your ass. You whined softly, quickly being brought out of your sleepy state by his affection.
It had been so long now since you had first impaled yourself onto Bruce’s cock that it had started to feel completely natural. Almost as if this was how you were always meant to exist, with your boyfriend’s cock buried deep within your pussy. Although he was big, an ever present reminder of his presence deep inside of your body, it felt like he was part of you. A shiver ran through your body at the thought. You shifted your position on him, hands coming to rest on his chest as you pushed yourself up into a more of a sitting position. A small moan escaped your lips as you felt his dick move inside of you, dragging along the inside of your sensitive cunt. The need in your core was slowly becoming more persistent again.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Bruce groaned, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “You feel so good on my cock.” He moved forward, pressing open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and the undersides of them. “So tight and warm and perfect. Your perfect cunt hugging me so good.”
You moaned softly at his words, your pussy squeezing around his cock, drawing a chuckle from him. Fuck, you loved the way he was speaking to you right now.
“Are my words getting you off, sweetheart?” He continued to press kisses to your body, stopping occasionally to bite and suck at your skin. His eyes never left you though, watching you and waiting for your reply.
When you nodded, not trusting your voice, to confirm that his words definitely were helping you get off, he chuckled again.
“Fucking love this pussy so much. Always makes me feel so good and I never want to leave.”
“Don’t,” you gasped, emotion suddenly overwhelming you as your hands cupped his face and kissed him fiercely. “Please, don’t ever leave me, Bruce. Please.”
Your sudden emotional outburst had him kissing you back just as fiercely. His hands grabbed and groped every inch of your body, like he couldn’t get enough of you. It didn’t come as a surprise to you. Bruce didn’t do well when it came to emotions, but with what he struggled to say he knew how to show you through his actions.
When you finally parted, both of you sucking down as much oxygen as you could into your lungs, he gripped your hips and roughly thrusted up into you. Getting his message loud and clear, your hands quickly settled onto his shoulders and you began to ride him, hard and fast, all thoughts of cockwarming him abandoned. He thrusted up into you, making you bounce on his cock. Your movements were frantic, hands greedy and mouths ravenous as you devoured each other, taking and giving pleasure with desperation.
“Fuck, come on sweetheart, come on,” Bruce urged you, nipping and licking at your skin. “I want you to come on my cock. I want to feel your pussy squeezing me so good.”
You moaned loudly, your hips bucking against him. If he kept talking like that you really weren’t going to last much longer. Something that he was acutely aware of.
“I’m going to come deep inside this pussy. Going to fill you up and keep my cock buried deep inside of you. Make you my permanent cum-filled cockwarmer.” His nips had now turned into bites, marking your body and leaving you with reminders of tonight for the next few days.
“Yes! Please, Bruce, fuck!” you babbled. Pleasure was quickly rising up in you, making you feel almost delirious from it. A complete lust-filled mess. “Fill me up and use me! Day and night, whenever you want, even if I’m sleeping. Slide into me and use me to keep your cock safe and warm!”
Bruce groaned, burying his face into your breasts. His mouth found your nipple and he sucked, hard. The hand that wasn’t supporting you, slipped between your bodies. Both to protect you from the rough material of his suit and to play with your clitoris.
It felt amazing. His cock hitting that sweet spot at the perfect angle, as he pounded into you over and over again. You were so close.
“You want that sweetheart? Want to stay impaled on my cock all night long so you wake up begging me to fuck you?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“Then be a good girl for me and come.”
Between his fingers and his cock, it was impossible to not follow his order. That knot of pleasure within your core finally snapping. You came with a sharp scream, your body shaking, fingernails digging into his shoulders and your walls clenching around him, making him grunt. Bruce fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure as he rutted into you, chasing his own release.
He groaned, pulling you down so you were fully impaled on his cock as he thrusted as deep as he could, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside of you.
He slumped against the chair and you followed, making a small noise of complaint as you landed against his chest. As he had promised, he stayed buried inside of your pussy, his cum leaking out around his still thick shaft.
Absentmindedly, Bruce ran his hands up and down your body as he kissed you softly and sweetly. A stark contrast from his hungry, lust driven kisses. You made another noise of complaint as he pulled away, briefly rubbing his nose against yours. He cupped your face, making you look at him.
“Tomorrow we’re going to talk about your dirty confession,” he said, his steely blue eyes staring into yours, expression and tone serious. “If it’s something you still want, we can try it.” He rubbed his nose against yours before kissing you again, like he was sealing a promise.
You smiled against his lips. “Okay,” you replied before pulling him for a deeper kiss. He had left you alone for too long, starved of his attention, of his kisses and touches. So now that you had his full attention, you were going to take as much as he had to give you. The two of you made out until you could feel Bruce starting to get hard again.
He pulled away from you with a groan, sounded more pained than pleasured. “Planning on milking me dry tonight, huh sweetheart?” he asked, making no move to get you off of him. Instead he let you slowly roll your hips against him. Your walls fluttered around him as his cock twitched.
“You neglected me, Bruce,” you whined, pouting. Your hands had returned to his shoulders, rising up until you were almost off of him. “Left me alone for so long.” You lowered yourself back down, relishing in the feeling of him filling you back up, taking him nice and deep. “It’s your fault I’m insatiable.”
“I’m going to do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen again,” he replied as he rested his head against the back of the chair. His eyes raking down your body, watching as you worked yourself on his cock, slowly letting the pleasure build back up.
The grip that he had on your hips was loose, giving you the freedom to move as you pleased while still supporting you, making sure you didn’t fall. But after a while, he grew impatient as he lifted you up off of him, spinning you around and pinning you to the desk. The sudden movement had you gasping. Bruce immediately stopped moving.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Looking over your shoulder, it was easy to see the worry in his eyes, concerned that he had scared or hurt you. He was so much bigger and stronger than you, it wouldn’t take much for him to accidentally hurt you. But you knew that he wouldn’t. He was far too careful for that to happen. Besides, you liked it when he was a little rougher with you. It was just a shame that he didn’t do it very often.
“I’m good, but I’ll be even better once you get back inside of me,” you replied, wiggling your ass, enticing him again. He relaxed, his relief evident.
Playfully, he swatted your ass before he reentered you with a single thrust, bottoming out immediately. You braced your palms against the surface of the desk as he pulled out, leaving just the head of his cock inside of you, before pushing back into you. He set a steady pace, each thrust taking the breath out of your lungs.
“Fuck,” you groaned, pushing back against him, trying to meet him thrust for thrust. It made your ass jiggle which you knew that Bruce was greatly enjoying by the way he was watching it move.
His hand slid up from your hips, very gently wrapping around your throat and pulled you up, against his chest. Once his arm had secured you against him, by your waist, his hand released you and he reached for keyboard. With a couple of taps of the keys, the main screen of the batcomputer came to life, showing you multiple angles of how he was currently fucking you. You had completely forgotten about the cameras he had set up in the cave. The closest feed came from the cowl that he had left on the desk, letting you watch how his thick cock moved in and out of you.
You bit your lower lip, your head falling back to his shoulder. Fuck. You hadn’t thought you would be into something like this. Of course, you hadn’t thought about what it would be like to be filmed while your boyfriend fucked you, to begin with. Though, you supposed, it wasn’t much different to watching him take you in that hotel room with the large mirror built into the ceiling. That had been an incredible hot night. The only difference being that you would be able to watch it later.
“Look at you,” Bruce murmured in your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin. “All cock drunk and begging me for more. Fuck, you’re perfect.”
You moaned loudly. This new angle somehow letting him thrust even deeper. Bruce was kissing neck, trailing them up to your jaw and then nibbling on your ear, like he had done earlier, as he pounded into you.
It wasn’t long before you were falling apart again, crying out his name. After he had found his own release, Bruce eased his softening cock out of your aching cunt and gathered you up in his arms as he sat back down. You curled up in his embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled close to him, making him smile. You were completely relaxed after your orgasms and exhaustion was starting to wash over you in waves.
By the sounds of keyboard keys clacking and the mouse clicking, you figured that he was likely deleting the footage. You were about to ask, when you felt him place a usb drive into your hand. Confused, you opened your eyes and looked at him.
“I trust you to keep this safe and far from prying eyes,” he told you before pressing a light kiss to your lips. “Now come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”
He carried you out of the batcave and through the manor, back up to the master bedroom. Once the drive was safely hidden away in the same drawer as your toys, he moved you into the en-suite and cleaned you up. He left you alone just long so you could the toilet and wash your hands, whilst he removed his suit. Then he was back and leading you to bed.
As soon as you were beneath the covers, you snuggled up to him again. Your head resting on his chest where you could feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating.
“I love you so much,” Bruce murmured softly before kissing the top of your head. “And I meant what I said, I will do better. Starting with lunch tomorrow. We don’t have to go anywhere fancy, we can stay here or go to that diner you love so much. Whatever you want.”
You looked up at him. “Incognito mode?” you asked. You liked the idea of going out on a lunch date with him, but didn’t particularly fancy being swarmed by paparazzi. Fortunately whenever Bruce dressed in “normal people clothes” he became completely unrecognisable to everyone.
He chuckled and nodded. “Yes, we’ll go in incognito mode.”
You settled back against his chest, your eyelids suddenly feeling very heavy as sleep started to claim you. “Sounds perfect.”
#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne#batman#bruce wayne x fem!reader#batman x fem!reader#bruce wayne smut#batman smut#bruce wayne imagine#batman imagine#softdom!bruce wayne#my writing#1k
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Diamonds sister pt 2
Y/n groaned as she heard her bedroom door open. After last nights events y/n had spent half the night tossing and turning, unable to get a certain blonde gentleman out of her head. Her mum and sister had thrown questions at her on the ride home and the excitement between them hadn’t gone unnoticed. The excitement the young girl herself felt was also apparent, but y/n refused to show it in fear that it may be thrown back at her.
“Good morning Miss, are you ready to get ready for the day?” Her handmaid smiled.
“Yes I am. Is everyone ready for our visitors today?”
“Yes the chef has prepared sweet treats and tea for this afternoon. They shall not be disappointed.”
“Good.” Y/n smiled, optimistic about today’s agenda.
Y/n opted for y/f/c dress with detail on the shoulder before heading down the stairs to the drawing room where her mother and sister were already sitting, working on their embroidery. Y/n never cared for embroidery, so instead opted to take out her drawing pad, deciding to draw the garden view as she waited for todays visitors. It wasn’t long before the door opened, and Anthony and Benedict arrived in the room.
“Your up early.” Violet stated to her sons with slight dismay.
“Are we the first ones here, how lovely.” Anthony stated, grabbing a biscuit before sitting beside Daphne.
“Perhaps you should make use of your time elsewhere.” Their mother stated.
“I believe y/n would like me to stay, right y/n.” Benedict stated, thinking their usual antics would start.
Y/n went to reply when the door opened once again, and y/ns handmaid opened the door. Violet stood up in anticipation when a figure came close behind her.
Violet watched in awe as her daughter allowed the prince to guide her to a seat away from prying ears. Daphne couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face, despite wanting to advance on the prince herself. Y/n only turned back briefly to smile at them before turning her attention to the prince as he accepted the lemonade from the handmaid and offered one to her. She nodded her head in thanks before taking a delicate sip.
“A visitor for Miss Bridgerton.” The woman spoke out and the figure stepped into the room.
“Price Fredrich, good afternoon.” Violet nodded, indicating for her children to stand up to greet him.
“Your highness.” Daphne stated as she curtsied and bowed her head.
“Good afternoon Lady Bridgerton, I have come to call on one of your daughters.”
“And which one may that be.” Anthony called from his position.
“Miss y/n.” The royal stated, looking at the second oldest daughter of the family.
“I believe you should like to go Benedict.” Y/n muttered to her brother.
“I believe I should most certainly like to stay,” Benedict replied quickly, not taking his eyes off the prince in front of them.
“Now Benedict.” Y/n stated to him before stepping towards the prince with her mother.
“Can I offer you some light refreshment?” Violet asked their visitor as Benedict left the room.
“I would love some. Perhaps some lemonade, and for miss Bridgerton?” Fredrich looked at y/n, expecting an answer.
“The same please.” Y/n spoke with a smile, before accepting the princes outstretched hand.
The two sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company under the watchful gaze of her family. A smile remained on each of their faces before the door opened once again and miss came through.
“So, what do you like to do, tell me more about you?” Fredrich smiled, leaning closer to the girl in front of him to listen.
“Well, I like to draw, I find you can capture anything with a pencil and page. I suppose that’s not a typical hobby of a woman but I find it so refreshing that I could just draw for hours, often with my dear brother Benedict.” Y/n stated, smiling fondly.
“I admire that. Would you be close with your siblings?” Frendrich asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“Yes I like to think that we are. I enjoy being with my youngest two, Hyacinth and Gregory, there so sweet. Do you have any siblings yourself?” Y/n asked, intrigued to learn more about her suitor.
“Unfortunately I am an only child, but I hope to have my own family someday, possibly many. Do you want children some day?” The blonde man asked the woman in front of him, not missing how her smile disappeared to sadness.
“I would love to have my own but the thoughts of having them terrify me after what my dear Mama went through with Hyacinth.” Y/n spoke sadly, remembering the screams of her mother and how she family nearly became orphans.
“I am sorry I asked.” Prince Frendrich stated, placing a hand on y/n’s in comfort.
“It’s ok. Maybe with the right guy I will have my dream, and my fear may be placed at ease.” Y/n stated, her mouth twitching with a smile.
“Perhaps, I may be that guy.” The prince dared to say, moving a hand under y/n’s chin to move her head up.
“Perhaps.” Y/n spoke, smiling at the thought.
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“Another visitor, for Miss Bridgerton.” This time she looked at Daphne and y/n sighed, knowing the time with the prince had come to an end.
“Perhaps we shall pomegrade tomorrow.” Prince Fredrich offered, wanting to spend more time with the Bridgerton in front of her.
“I would like that.” Y/n announced, nodding her head in agreement.
“Until tomorrow.” Prince Fredrich took y/n’s hand and brought it up, kissing it delicately.
“Until tomorrow.” y/n smiled shyly, watching as the prince moved to say his goodbyes to her mother and brother.
The following days followed with y/n and Fredrich spending many hours together. Benedict had taken it upon himself to escort his sister to these meetings, despite his sisters disagreement, and the prince was starting to grow on him. Seeing how his sister smiled around thig guy made Benedict realize that maybe his sister meeting with this guy wasn’t a bad idea. The relationship between brother and sister were remarkable, but Benedict would be willing to leave the prince be if it made y/n happy. And it would appear that he made y/n very happy.
Y/n had found herself falling for the royal she had been spending so much time with these past few weeks. Each ball lead to a new dance, and each day lead to a new Pomerado around, getting to know each other more and more. The more time spent with the prince, the more y/n thought that maybe he could be the one. Maybe he was the one she would marry and make her feel safe and secure with herself, much like her father had been for her mother. And the prince, well, he was seeing the Bridgerton girl in a new light.
Today was no different. Y/n had arrived back from a boat ride with the prince ,and was now in a carriage towards the ball of the night, one that was being held by the her sister. Since Daphnes marriage things had been a spiral of emotions for the Bridgerton family, yet the giddiness that y/n felt for tonight was something that did not go unnoticed. Violet watched her daughter with happiness as she glowed. With Daphne now engaged to the duke, Violet hoped that maybe there would be another love story for the Bridgerton family.
The carriage came to a stop and y/n allowed her mother to get out before she herself stood up and exited the carriage. Looking at the entrance in awe, she couldn’t help but smile as she seen the familiar blonde hair standing with the Queen at the back of the hall. Smiles were exchanged as the prince caught sight of the Bridgerton clan walking into the ball, and took no time to start making her way down to them. Ignoring the mothers and daughters who swarmed him, he made his way over to y/n and nodded his head in greeting as the mother daughter duo turned to face him.
Y/n smiled at the Prince as they prepared to dance. Allowing the royal to lead her around the floor, y/n couldn’t help the slight giggle that came out of her mouth. Her giggle made the prince in turn smile as he twirled his dance partner around.
“Good evening ladies, I hope you are well.” He spoke to the two.
“Good evening your highness. We are very well.” Violet spoke for the two of them as they curtsied to him.
“Would it be too much to ask for a dance with your lovely daughter.” He asked, offering his hand out out to y/n.
“Please enjoy.” Violet confirmed, watching with pride as the prince kissed her daughters hand before leading her to the floor.
“Perhaps there may be another Bridgerton wedding in the horising.” Simon spoke beside his mother in law.
“One can only hope.” Violet stated, hoping the best would come for her daughter.
The prince stepped away from her and fiddled with his pocket before bringing out a small velvet box. Y/n watched in shock as the attention of others became apparent. Violet grabbed bEnedicts arm as she watched with hope.
“I hope you are enjoying your night.” Prince Fredrich stated as they danced around the room. Her back to his chest.
“Very much.” Y/n nodded.
“Y/n, I hope I am not overstepping when I say but, I enjoy our time together.”
“I enjoy our time together too.” Y/n smiled.
“And I hope you wouldn’t be opposed to spending more time together.” The prince asked, twirling her around once more.
“I was hoping we would.” Y/n smiled, glancing over her shoulder at him.
“Perhaps you would do me the honour of spending the rest of our time on this earth together.” The prince asked, causing y/n to look at him in shock.
“Your highness, what are you saying.” Y/n asked, turning to him as the music stopped.
Unable to hold her excitement, Violet rushed towards her daughter and pulled her into a hug.
“Y/n Bridgerton, would you do me the honour of becoming my princess, my wife.” Fredrich asked, opening the box to show a ring held delicately with a small coushin.
“I would love to.” Y/n spoke happily, allowing him to pull her in a hug.
----------------------------------------------------
“You are to be married dearest.” Violet stated, and y/n smiled excitedly.
“I got it mama, I got my dream.”
“We better watch out with royalty in our house.” Benedict teased causing y/n to chock in tears.
The wedding was everything y/n could of ever dreamed off. Prince Fredrich wanted the day to be everything his bride had ever imagined, and went above and beyond to make sure her dreams became a reality. It was fit for a princess, which was what Miss y/n Bridgerton would now be called. Violet was beaming for joy as she watched her second daughter walk down the aisle with her second oldest. Benedict couldn’t help the smile on his face as he walked his sister to her new family, having cried after y/n had asked him to step in what should have been their fathers job. Daphne held her husbands arm in delight watching her twin get married. The Queen herself couldn’t help but show a slight smile, even if only for a brief second.
The night itself was magical and fit for royalty. Y/n danced with her husband under the night stars, outside in the Queens garden. United as one, y/n couldn’t wait to live her newfound life. Princess y/n of Prussia, dawning a ring that belonged to her majesty the Queen on her finger, vowed to spend entirely with her new love, the prince of Prussia.
#bridgerton sister#anthony bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#colin bridgerton#daphne bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#benedict bridgertn x sister#bridgerton x sister reader#sister reader
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my brother's best friend (pt 1)
pt 2 pt 3 pt 4
pairing: matt sturniolo x y/n
summary: over the years you find yourself falling more in love with your brother's best friend.
warnings: none yet
this is the first story I've ever written, so sorry if it's bad. anyway, hope you guys enjoy.
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(the first day i saw him)
"mom!" I ran down the stairs. "yeah, what do you need?" "where's Nate? he said he would go to the movies with me over an hour ago." I was beginning to get upset, Nate promised that he would take me to see Spider-Man Homecoming with him. "I'm not sure, he said he would be home by 5" she responded. I let out a heavy sigh before walking out of the kitchen.
I went into the living room and sat on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on my phone. I watched as the minutes on the clock slowly ticked by, my eyes flicking to the front door every few seconds. it had been 3 hours before Nate had finally showed up, laughing as he walked through the door. three boys followed close behind him.
"dude that movie was so good" Nate said as he kicked off his shoes. "yeah, I still can't believe the way Spider-Man saved the Avenger's plane" one of the other boys spoke. I coughed loudly drawing the attention of my brother and his friends in the entryway. making eye contact with Nate, his face flashing with realization. "oh shit, y/n I'm so sor-" Nate tried to speak, but I stood up abruptly off the couch walking to my room and slamming the door.
the second I closed the door I could feel my eyes watering. it was one thing for Nate to blow of our plans because his practice ran late or something, but for him to go without me even though we had planned this out ever since the trailer came out, hurt. especially since he went with three people I've never met instead.
I jumped onto my bed, burying my face into the pillows. I could hear four sets of footsteps approaching my bedroom before someone knocked on the door. I knew it was Nate because he used the secret knock combination we came up with in order to tell if it was each other or our parents knocking. "go away Nate" my voice was muffled by the pillow. Nate had opened the door anyway, "y/n look I'm sorry, I totally forgot that we were planning to go to the movies today" I turned to face him when he spoke "yeah, yeah whatever Nate."
I glanced around him, taking in the appearance of his friends, each looking similar, but I could tell the differences once I looked a little longer. I made eye contact with the boy who was standing behind them all, almost not visible. I blushed and turned my head away so none of them could see it. "you can go, you obviously want to hang out with these people more than me anyway." Nate gave me a sad expression before walking out of my room, closing the door behind him. as I listened to the sounds of footsteps furthering from my door I decided to read a book instead of wallowing around.
the next time I looked at the clock it read 12:37 am. I decided that I might as well call it a night and changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of women's boxers. assuming that Nate's friends had gone home by now, I didn't bother to put on something more presentable as I left my room to grab a glass of water.
when I walked into the kitchen I was met with three pairs of eyes on me, with Nate being in the bathroom. "oh, you guys are still here" I uttered as I went to grab a glass. ''yep, seems like it" the one with longer hair spoke. my back was to them as I filled up the cup with water from the fridge. once finished I turned around to face the three boys. "look I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude, its just that Nate promised me he would take me to see that movie months ago. anyway I'm y/n." holding out my hand to them. The one with a nose ring takes it first "Nick" he shook my hand. "I'm Chris" the one with long hair spoke, dapping me up. "and you?" I turned to the last boy, realizing it's the one that I locked eyes with earlier. "Matt" he smiled slightly as he took my hand. my face flushed feeling the electricity buzzing through my fingertips.
"okay well nice to meet you guys, but I'm off to bed. tell Nate that I said he better take me to see that movie tomorrow, I don't care if he just watched it." "will do" Chris spoke, Matt and Nick nodded along. I headed back towards my room and closed the door, still thinking about the feeling of Matt's hand on mine. "well this is going to be a problem" I mumbled to myself before shutting off the light and snuggling under my covers.
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Nate had brought the triplets over again, many times over the next few years. each time my crush on Matt grew a little stronger. besides that I had actually gained a friendship with all of them.
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a/n: I'm probably going to move this story on pretty quickly I just wanted to get a little backstory out first.
let me know if there is anything I can do to write better, criticism is appreciated
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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also for my second WIP ask PLEASE brussels!!!! im not from belgium but its close enough (to the netherlands) so im really really excited about that one too!!!!
oh gosh I've only been to brussels once for 2 days so im hoping i don't do it dirty. i LOVED brussels and the netherlands!!
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Neil realized with gut clenching clarity that Andrew would be sitting with him in each and every class that he took.
He and his mother had rules. Don’t draw attention, don’t ask questions, don’t answer questions, and don’t- definitely don’t make friends. Neil didn’t have any intention on befriending Andrew, but it was hard to go unnoticed when they sat beside one another for seven hours a day.
Neil had been determined for the last four years to follow his mother’s rules, but it wasn’t often that he went this unnoticed as the new kid. His mother would never know it, but it was normal for him to be bugged by a good five different students at each new school before everyone learned to leave him alone. If she knew that, then he’d never be allowed to go to school to all. Neil didn’t think he could handle that isolation.
So, since he was excelling with flying under the radar, he turned to Andrew two weeks into their introduction. “Why don’t you speak to anyone?” he asked in English.
Andrew stilled from where he was writing down notes in a mixture of two languages. Neil didn’t know why he didn’t just pick one. His own notes were written in French so that no one would know, at least from afar, that he was writing down aimless things instead. Making lists, like the food they needed to buy when it was his turn, keeping track of the last time he dyed his hair, and sometimes writing “letters” as if he had someone to give them to to tell about their adventures.
Adventures, his mother called them, as if he hadn’t known exactly what this was from the day they left. That his father was obsessive and angry, and that if they stopped he would find and kill them.
He shivered and tensed so as to not let it show. After a moment, Andrew slowly sat back in his seat and let his gaze slowly wash over the classroom. Their teacher, grading last night’s homework at her desk. Students, mumbling and quietly giggling to one another in favor of doing their schoolwork for as long as they could get away with.
When his eyes landed on Neil, he raised his eyebrow. “Do you really want to ask that?” he asked in slow, low, Dutch. Neil wanted to roll his eyes and tell him to fuck off. He was using the language against him because he knew- he knew that Neil was still working on it. The exact thing he’d refuted two weeks prior. “Let me also ask,” he started. Neil’s heart pounded. He looked like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. “How many times are you going to re-wear the same five outfits?”
Neil’s free hand, sweaty and needing something to grip onto that wasn’t the pencil he was close to breaking, clenched around his knee instead. When he didn’t answer, Andrew kept his eyes on him in uncomfortable silence. Waiting, and waiting, for what felt like a half hour but was only three minutes, until Neil opened his mouth just as their teacher dismissed the class.
Andrew stood and slung his bag over his shoulder. “You and I are somewhat alike, I hate to think. No,” he said when Neil nearly cut him off. “I don’t care.”
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#aftg#neil josten#all for the game#andrew minyard#the foxhole court#palmetto state university#nathaniel wesninski#brussels wip#brussels pt. 2#wip game#wip writing#nathan wesninski#mary hatford
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What If Andrew and Darling Met on Different Terms
I have no idea why this took my so long to write like I was struggling between writing this and doing my actual work late up at night writing this shit 😂
Masterlist
They kept thinking about it over and over again it repeating in their mind, ____ decided to take a nap before doing their homework that Professor marston assigned, what they didn’t expect was a dream that would soon change their perspective on their very attractive professor, the events on the dream repeated in their thoughts just imagining Andrew pinning them to the wall whispering the dirtiest things and kissing them over and over again the smooth feeling of his lips on theirs the rich sweet taste it left just one kiss was enough to make one desire it.
What were they to do they were lost and they couldn't get him out of their mind and focus on their assignment drawing to pass the time didn't help as all they could draw was him from his nice soft hair his strong jawline those piercing eyes made them kick their legs with joy,
as they wrote all their admiration for their professor they realized something changed it felt like they had just forgotten what they were doing and saw this entire letter on their ASSIGNMENT written down
realizing this was inappropriate they erased everything that was in the paper and instead drew out a sheet of paper and wrote everything that was previously on the other paper into this one after using two more sheets of paper and several hand cramps they were down letting out a sigh the folded it up and put it in there bag and would give it to him at the end of tomorrow after hours,
Andrew would be free after that so there would be nothing stopping them from telling Andrew their feelings deciding it was late so they decided to finish what work they had left on their way to classes… as they sat watching the clock soon enough classes were over and they got the letter out of their bag and was ready to give their letter to him this was it…they were going to tell him and nothing was going to stop them
but as they knocked on the door it opened immediately with Andrew saying “my teaching hours are over and I have some important business to attend to, so Tutoring as been cancelled today what ever questions you had please email it to me” and with that before they even got a word he shut the door. At a loss for words ___ walked away “well…shit..that was…rude?” They didn’t know what to say holding the letter in the hand so tight they’d crush their bones if they held any tighter “what am I even doing” realizing how weird this looked..
a student in love with their teacher huh how cliche they felt broken but didn’t know why he was just doing his job and they couldn’t stop him, in a hurt emotion ___ crumpled up the paper and threw it away in a nearby trash bin stupid emotions I was stupid to believe it was real days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months what were they to do they felt loss they had their eyes on him and only him they could tell he was also looking at them, they’d sit and take in every word that came out of his month the smooth assertive tone from his voice made their knees weak,
his handsome face they could study Andrew and pass with flying colors. He was such a work of art to look at everything about him was pure perfecti- “____, did you hear me” Professor Marston spoke snapping them out of their daydream “huh wait what, sorry could you repeat that I kinda got lost on the last bit” they question, rubbing his temple Andrew repeated himself “pay attention ___ In George Orwell's 1984, what is the significance of the phrase "War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength"? Without even a second thought “In 1984, the phrase "War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength" shows how the Party uses contradictions to control people's thinking. It means that constant war keeps the country stable, freedom leads to chaos, and staying ignorant makes the Party stronger.”
They said all in one breath on the inside they hoped they were right and not embarrassing themself because they were fantasizing about their professor “correct, please remember to pay attention” he said and went on back to his lecture. Letting out a sigh they continued to gaze at him, Andrew kept talking and with each word ___ fell deeper and deeper in love with him let his eccentric features distract them.
Soon enough the class was over “alright, that's all for today. Make sure to review the key concepts we discussed,
especially the contradictions in Orwell's 1984. Remember, next class we'll dive deeper into how language can shape reality, so come prepared. Don’t forget to read the assigned chapters that are uploaded onto moodle, and if you have any questions, for emergencies feel free to reach out via email or come to my office during office hours." And with that the class left but __ stayed back they wanted to tell him “oh ___, you're still here?” He question as if it had been a surprise that they of all people stayed behind
“uh yeah, I just want to apologize I’d zoned out for a few seconds and didn’t expect to be called on” they said a nervous laugh escaping them “it is quite alright loads of students daze out when in my class some even think it’s a good idea to come here for free naps, when they should be coming here for their education to learn” he said “but I’m assuming you come here for…other reasons” he said given them a gaze and a smirk feeling the weight of pressure,
___ felt their heart race at his words, the playful smirk lingering on his lips. The weight of his gaze felt like a spotlight, illuminating the unspoken feelings between them. "Well, I mean, your lectures are quite engaging," they replied, trying to sound casual, but their voice wavered slightly.
Andrew chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against his desk. “Engaging? Is that what we’re calling it these days?” He folded his arms, his expression softening. “But really, I appreciate your honesty. It’s nice to see a student who actually cares.”
The compliment sent a flutter through ___’s chest. They shifted on their feet, suddenly aware of how close they were standing to him. “I do care,” they said, their voice steadier now. “It’s just… sometimes I get lost in my thoughts, you know?”
He nodded, his eyes searching for theirs. “I understand. Sometimes my thoughts wander too, especially when I’m caught up in teaching.” The atmosphere thickened with an unspoken tension, each word laden with meaning.
“Is it bad that I enjoy your class more than I probably should?” ___ asked, taking a half-step closer. Their pulse quickened, uncertainty mingling with excitement.
Andrew’s smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “It’s not bad at all, but…” He hesitated, glancing toward the door as if ensuring no one else was around. “You know there are boundaries we have to be careful about, right?”
___ felt a pang of disappointment, but they nodded. “I get it. But it’s hard not to feel something when you spend so much time together.” They took a deep breath, gathering courage. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“No, you’re not overstepping,” Andrew replied, his voice gentle. “It’s just complicated.”
Just then, the faint sound of students chatting outside snapped them back to reality. Andrew pushed himself off the desk and straightened up. “You should get going before someone sees you here alone with me. We don’t want rumors spreading, do we?” He tried to lighten the mood, but the gravity of the moment hung between them.
“Right,” ___ said reluctantly, stepping back. “Thanks for understanding. I’ll see you in class next week?”
Andrew nodded, a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Of course. And remember, if you ever need to talk about anything—school or otherwise…personal matters I’m here.”
With that, ___ turned to leave, their mind racing with what had just transpired. As they stepped into the hallway, they couldn’t shake the feeling that their relationship with Andrew was about to shift in ways they couldn’t yet understand.
heeding Andrew’s warning ___ made a conscious effort to keep their feelings in check. But as they walked out of the classroom, a whirlwind of emotions flooded their mind, and it felt impossible to push him out of their thoughts. The way he smiled, the softness in his voice—it replayed in their mind like a favorite song stuck on repeat.
For the rest of the week, they tried to focus on their studies, but Andrew was a constant presence in their thoughts. During lectures, they found themselves daydreaming, stealing glances at him from the back of the room, memorizing the way he gestured as he explained complex theories. It was maddening how a simple conversation could leave such a lasting impact.
At night, as they lay in bed, ___ would scroll through their phone, searching for anything to distract them. Yet, every swipe of the screen brought back memories of their interactions. The way his eyes sparkled when he discussed literature, the warmth in his laughter—it was impossible to ignore the growing feelings that bubbled beneath the surface.
One evening, while flipping through old photos on their phone, ___ stumbled across a candid shot taken during a class project—a group of students huddled together, laughing, with Andrew standing off to the side, his expression full of pride. That moment encapsulated everything they admired about him—his passion for teaching, his ability to connect with students, and the subtle kindness that made them feel seen.
With a sigh, ___ tossed their phone onto the bed and buried their face in their hands. “Why can’t I just forget about him?” they whispered to themselves, feeling a mixture of frustration and longing. The more they tried to push their feelings aside, the stronger they grew. It was as if Andrew had woven himself into the very fabric of their thoughts, and they couldn’t unravel the connection they felt.
As graduation approached, the excitement of new beginnings mixed with the weight of their unresolved feelings. ___ knew that soon they would be moving on, yet the thought of leaving Andrew behind felt unbearable. It was a reality they had to face, but the hope of crossing paths again lingered in the back of their mind.
On the last day of class, ___ felt a bittersweet ache in their chest. They wanted to say something, to confess the feelings they had tried to suppress, but the memory of their earlier conversation held them back. Instead, they left a note on Andrew’s desk, thanking him for everything he had done for them.
As they walked away, they glanced back to see Andrew reading the note, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. In that moment, ___ felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end of their story after all.
Several weeks had passed ___ couldn’t shake the whispers of insecurity that crept into their mind. It seemed like every student in the department had a crush on Professor Marston, and hearing their admiring comments only fueled their anxiety. “He’s so handsome,” one would say, while another chimed in with, “He’s such a great teacher! I’d do anything to get his attention.” The thought of Andrew being interested in someone else made ___’s stomach churn.
They worried that Andrew would eventually see them as just another student, someone unworthy of his attention or affection. With these thoughts spiraling in their head, ___ sought solace in Luca, the TA. They had noticed Luca’s easy-going demeanor and thought that he’d have an understanding perspective of their situation and thought he might understand the complexities of student-teacher relationships better than most.
After class one day, ___ approached him, their heart pounding. “Hey, Mr Luca, Pearce? Sir? I don’t know, um.. do you have a minute?”
“Of course! What’s up?” Luca replied, glancing up from his laptop with a friendly smile.
___ hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one else was listening. “I wanted to talk about Professor Marston… and, well, my feelings for him.”
Luca raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Ah, I see. That can be a tricky situation.”
Taking a deep breath, ___ continued, “I just feel insecure. I hear other students talking about how attractive he is, and I can’t help but think… What if he doesn’t see me that way? What if he finds someone else more interesting?”
Luca leaned back in his chair, considering their words. “I get it. It’s easy to feel like you’re not enough when you’re competing with all those perceptions. But you have to remember that relationships are about more than looks. Andrew is a good guy, and I think he values character over superficiality.”
“Yeah, but what if it gets complicated?” ___ asked, their voice tinged with worry. “I don’t want to cause any backlash for either of us. It feels so wrong, even if it’s innocent.”
Luca nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a valid concern. I think waiting might be the best approach. Let things develop naturally. You’re not that far apart in age, and if there’s a genuine connection, it could work out over time. Just give it some space.”
“Space?” ___ echoed, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. “It’s hard to think about that when all I want to do is be near him.”
“True, but rushing things could lead to misunderstandings and hurt feelings,” Luca replied. Luca looked around for a second thought then let it out “you wanna know what Andrew told me once,” he asked ___ didn’t say anything but give him a subtle blink “Andrew told me once you think of assignments as extensions of the writer you're one step closer to understanding them as a person” it seemed like something Andrew would say “it really struck me”.
“Focus on building a friendship first. If it’s meant to be, time will help bring things to light.”
___ nodded slowly, taking in Luca’s advice. It made sense, even if it felt challenging. “Thanks, Luca. I really appreciate your insight. I guess I just needed someone to remind me to take a step back.”
“Anytime,” Luca said with a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this. And who knows? You might find that your connection with Andrew grows even stronger with a little patience.”
Feeling lighter, ___ left the conversation with renewed hope. They still had a long way to go, but at least now they had a plan to guide them through the uncertainty of their feelings.
Promising themselves that they would wait as long as it took, ___ decided to take Luca's advice to heart. They made a conscious effort to “sit down” and let time do its thing. In the following weeks, they poured themselves into their studies, immersing themselves in projects and assignments. The pressure of upcoming exams distracted them from the nagging thoughts of Andrew, and for a while, it felt like a relief.
As the days turned into weeks, ___ found solace in their work, each late night spent studying and each completed assignment bringing them a sense of accomplishment. Gradually, their feelings for Andrew began to fade, replaced by a focus on their academic goals. The nervous excitement that once filled their chest whenever he entered a room was replaced by a quiet admiration.
“Maybe this was for the best,” they thought, convincing themselves that their life didn’t have to revolve around their professor. They felt empowered by their independence, relishing the sense of control they had regained over their emotions. After all, graduation was just around the corner—next week, to be exact.
“Just like that?!” they whispered to themselves one night, staring at the calendar in disbelief. Time had flown by faster than they could have imagined. The realization that they would soon be leaving behind their college life—along with the complexities of their feelings for Andrew—was bittersweet.
As they packed their things and prepared for the final days of their university experience, ___ reflected on how much they had grown. They had learned to prioritize their own dreams and aspirations, finding joy in their accomplishments instead of lingering on what could have been.
On the day of their last class, ___ sat in their seats, scanning the familiar faces of their classmates, a mix of excitement and nostalgia swirling within them. Andrew stood at the front of the room, delivering a heartfelt farewell speech that made the weight of their feelings rush back momentarily. “You all have so much potential, and I can’t wait to see where life takes each of you,” he said, his voice resonating with genuine passion.
As the applause filled the room, ___ felt a familiar flutter in their chest, but this time it was accompanied by a sense of closure. They realized that while their feelings for Andrew had once been intense, they no longer defined them. They could appreciate him as a mentor without needing to pursue something more.
After class, as students began to filter out, ___ stayed behind, summoning the courage to approach Andrew one last time. “Thank you for everything, Professor Marston,” they said, their voice steady. “I’ve learned so much from you.”
Andrew turned to them, a warm smile gracing his face. “It’s been a pleasure having you in class. You have a bright future ahead, ___.”
“Thanks,” they replied, feeling a mixture of pride and sadness. “I’ll miss this place.”
“I will too,I’ll miss having you in here…you were truly…one of my favorites” Andrew said, brushing their bangs (if you don’t have them I’m so sorry) away from their eyes, the sincerity in his eyes making ___'s heart skip a beat. But they reminded themselves of their promise to wait and took a deep breath, grounding them
selves in the knowledge that this chapter was closing, and a new one awaited.
As they left the classroom for the last time, ___ felt a sense of peace. They had given their feelings time to breathe, and while they may have shifted, they had also found strength in themselves. Whatever came next, they were ready to embrace it
It had been four years since ___ graduated, and life had taken them in unexpected directions. As they lounged on their bed one evening, absentmindedly scrolling through old school photos, one image caught their eye: a snapshot taken with Andrew at graduation. In the photo, they were both beaming, Andrew’s smile wide and genuine, their own face flushed with a mix of pride and admiration. A sudden jolt of emotions surged through ___, flooding them with memories of their time in class together, the thrill of their connection, and the ache of what could have been.
“Could it work now?” they pondered, the question hanging in the air. It had been nearly five years since they promised themselves to sit back and let time do its thing, but what had really changed? Andrew was still a professor, and they were now navigating adulthood, still filled with uncertainty about relationships. The thought settled heavily in their mind. Of course not. Andrew probably doesn’t even remember me.
Over the last few years, ___’s romantic endeavors had been rocky at best. Each relationship had crumbled under the weight of unmet expectations and emotional turmoil, leaving them hesitant and guarded. Maybe it was time to take a risk. With a newfound determination, they downloaded a popular dating app that a friend had suggested, eager to explore new connections.
As they swiped through profiles, they encountered their fair share of catfishes and pictures of men holding fish—how cliché! After a while, their thumb paused, eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before them. There, staring back at them, was Professor Marston. He’s on here?! The realization sent a rush of excitement and apprehension coursing through them. They glanced around their bedroom, as if expecting someone to pop out and catch them in the act and judge them on their delusions.
Without overthinking, ___ swiped right on his profile, their heart pounding in anticipation. Moments later, a notification lit up the screen: You’ve matched with Andrew Marston. A surge of adrenaline shot through them, mingled with a wave of nervousness.
“What do I do now?” they muttered, staring at the screen as if it held all the answers. Their mind raced with possibilities: Should they send a flirty message, or play it cool? Would Andrew even want to reconnect after all this time?
Taking a deep breath, they decided to keep it simple. Hey, it’s been a while! How have you been? They hit send and immediately regretted it, anxiety creeping in as they wondered how Andrew would react.
Time seemed to stretch as they waited for a reply, their heart racing with anticipation. Would he remember them? Did he even want to engage in a conversation after all this time?
Just as doubt began to creep in, their phone buzzed with a notification. Hello Wow, this is a surprise! I’d never thought I’d see you on here, I’m doing well, how about you?
A wave of relief washed over ___, followed by a flutter of excitement. They were talking to Andrew again. Could this be the start of something new?
As they exchanged messages, ___ felt the familiar spark igniting within them—a reminder of the connection they once shared, tempered now by years of growth and maturity. They were ready to embrace whatever came next, even if it was uncertain. Perhaps this time, they could explore what had once been left unspoken and let time lead them forward
After several days filled with texting, laughter, and heartfelt reconnections, Andrew brought up the idea of meeting at the café a couple of blocks down from the university. The thought sent a thrill of excitement through ___, who quickly accepted, eager to see him in person again. As the days counted down to their “date,” ___ found themselves in a whirlwind of anticipation, wondering what they should wear. Should they go casual or dress up a bit? After much deliberation, they settled on a comfortable yet stylish outfit, a light sweater that highlighted their figure and dark jeans that felt just right for the occasion.
Finally, the day arrived. ___ walked down the street toward the café, their heart racing with every step. But as they approached the entrance, a pang of disappointment hit them—Andrew wasn’t there yet. Were they early? Late? A flurry of visions clouded their mind, filled with anxious thoughts. What if he changed his mind?
Five minutes felt like an eternity as they stood there, glancing around the bustling street. Just when doubt began to creep in, Andrew appeared, slightly out of breath and a touch disheveled, as if he had rushed over. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” he exclaimed, a sincere smile breaking across his face. “I got caught up with a meeting that ran over.”
“It’s okay! I just got here, too,” ___ replied, their nervousness dissipating as they saw his warm smile. “I thought I might have missed you.”
As they walked inside together, the rich aroma of coffee filled the air. Once they ordered their drinks, they settled into a cozy corner table, the atmosphere warm and inviting. The soft chatter of other patrons created a comforting background hum.
“So, how have you been?” Andrew asked, leaning forward, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Busy with work, but good overall,” ___ replied, feeling the tension ease as they settled into conversation. “I’ve been thinking about those long nights studying for finals. It feels like just yesterday.”
Andrew chuckled, shaking his head. “I remember you always being the last one to leave the library. You put in a lot of effort.”
“Guilty as charged!” ___ laughed. “But I have to admit, some of those late nights were less about studying and more about hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”
A blush crept up Andrew’s cheeks as he met their gaze. “I had no idea. I always thought you were just really dedicated to your studies.”
“I was dedicated, but I was also a little... infatuated,” ___ admitted, their heart racing.
Andrew’s expression softened, and he leaned in closer. “I’m glad you said that. I felt a connection between us, too, but I didn’t know how to approach it back then.”
Their drinks arrived, steaming mugs placed in front of them. As they chatted about old memories, exchanged phone numbers, and shared laughter over silly college anecdotes, the chemistry between them became undeniable.
Then, as the conversation turned more intimate, Andrew leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know, I’ve thought about that day at graduation a lot.”
___’s heart raced. “Really? I have too. I was so nervous when we took that photo together.”
Andrew smiled, his gaze unwavering. “I was too. I just didn’t know what to say. I wish I had told you how much I admired you back then.”
With that shared moment hanging in the air, Andrew’s eyes flickered to ___’s lips, an electric charge pulsing between them. Suddenly, he leaned in closer, closing the distance as his lips brushed against theirs. It was a soft, tentative kiss that quickly blossomed into something more passionate. It was everything ___ had been waiting for, for what felt like years—a culmination of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities.
Nothing could ruin this moment for them; it felt so incredibly magical. The world around them faded as they lost themselves in each other, the café bustling with life yet feeling like a private haven just for them. As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, ___ could hardly contain their joy.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you,” Andrew confessed, his cheeks slightly flushed.
“Me too,” ___ replied, a giddy smile spreading across their face. “I thought I was being ridiculous, but now… it feels right.”
Andrew chuckled softly, “I think we both might be a little ridiculous. But in the best way.”
As they continued to talk, the conversation flowed seamlessly, filled with laughter and lingering glances. Each moment felt like a promise of something beautiful beginning. In that instant, all the doubts and insecurities melted away, replaced by the warmth of newfound affection.
“I can’t believe we waited this long,” Andrew said, his tone thoughtful. “But maybe it was worth it. We’ve both grown so much.”
___ nodded, feeling a sense of hope swell within them. “It really does feel like the right time now.”
They both knew this was just the start of a new chapter—one where they could explore their feelings without fear. They were no longer just a student and a professor; they were two souls connecting in a way that felt right. And as they sat across from each other, the future felt wide open, filled with possibilities
#sakuverse#zsakuva#peppymintdreamsproduction#zsakuva andrew#andrew marston#andrew zsakuva#sakuversetwistoffate#andrew sakuverse#sakuverse andrew#andrew#andrew x listener#darling#andrew x darling
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First Christmas - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ]
Summary: Your first proper Christmas with Brian becomes that much more special when he asks you that one magical question
Word Count: 1272
Warnings: female!reader, implied sex
A/N: I feel like this sucks so apologies if it does
Masterlist | Otis Masterlist
It was your first Christmas living with Brian. The first time in the two years you’d been dating that you’d be spending the holiday under the same roof. The last two times you had both been with your families, only getting to spend the last few hours of Christmas day together and cherishing each second.
But things were different now.
Now you were living together, in the very place you’d both put your whole heart into making a home. Which meant from the second the clock struck midnight, you’d get to spend every single second of your favourite holiday with the man you loved more than anything.
And to make matters even better, it was snowing.
“I always loved seeing snow on Christmas.” You sighed contently, drawing lazy circles over Brian’s knee as you sat between his legs.
The first thing you’d done when you both moved in was make a cozy little nook by the biggest window. Filled with pillows, blankets and the stuffed bear Brian had gotten you last Christmas. Somewhere you could just curl up with a cup of tea and watch as the world went by around you. Bonus points if it was raining. You could sit there for hours if it was raining.
You both sat there now, watching the snow. Brian’s arms wrapped comfortingly around you, your back pressed up against his chest with his head resting atop yours. Low Christmas music drifted through the air and the crackling of the fire only added to the coziness of the moment.
All that was missing was some hot cocoa but unfortunately you’d forgotten to pick some up at the store, which meant you had to settle for beer instead. But you didn’t care. You had the love of your life holding you close and that’s all that really mattered.
“I’m really happy we’re together this year.” You said softly, placing your hand on Brian’s as you glanced up at him, the way his eyes softened immediately when they met yours warming your heart immensely.
“Me too, baby.” Brian whispered, leaning down to place a soft kiss against your lips, feeling as they lifted beneath his as you couldn’t help but smile. He pulled back just a little, lifting one hand to gently graze his knuckles down the side of your face. “I have something for you.”
“You do?” Your eyes widened a touch, excitement filling your stomach as it wasn’t Christmas day yet and Brian always was a stickler for the rules of not opening presents until then. He nodded, shuffling a little to reach into his pocket as you lifted yourself away from him.
Spinning to face him, you crossed your legs beneath you, the smile on your face as he pulled out a neatly wrapped, small box from his pocket making him one hundred percent sure he wanted to do this right now. Not that he could have waited anyway but still, your excitement only fuelled his own and surprisingly, he wasn’t as nervous as he thought he might have been.
“I was planning to give it to you tomorrow night.” Brian said almost anxiously, his eyes glued to the box as he hesitated for just a second. He held it out towards you, eyes never leaving it until you had taken it from him and when you did, you could have sworn you heard him suck in a breath. “But I couldn’t wait any longer and honestly, doing it on Christmas seemed kinda cliche.”
“Doing what?” You asked, eyes narrowing a little as you gently shook the box. It made no noise.
“You’ll see.” Brian smiled, pushing your hands closer to you as he urged you to open the present before he did it for you as now that the gears were set in motion, he couldn’t contain his excitement. “Open it.”
“Okay.” You said with a touch of nervousness, sliding your finger through the folds of the paper and carefully tearing it open, revealing a black, velvet box beneath. “Brian…”
Your heart was practically in your throat as you realised what was happening. Your mouth unable to form anything but whispers of unintelligible babble as you shakily opened the box, your eyes tearing up when you confirmed your suspicions about what was inside.
Reaching forwards Brian took the box from you, which was easy given how limp your hands seemed to go. He stood up, pulling you up with him and the second your legs straightened, his bent and he got down on one knee.
“I’ve never had much luck when it came to relationships.” Brian began, taking your hand in his and feeling how it shook in his hold. “But when I met you… I knew I wouldn’t need luck anymore because that was the day I knew I’d found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”
You were already crying and he hadn’t even asked you the question yet. But you knew your answer. Hell, you’d known it long before this very moment.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” You nodded, the word leaving your lips before Brian’s even had a chance to settle in the air. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Brian’s smile widened more than you’d ever seen it and you didn’t think his dimples could get any deeper, but boy were you wrong. He got to his feet, sliding the most beautiful ring you’d ever laid eyes on onto your finger, where it fit perfectly. Like it was made just for you when in reality, Brian thought he’d have to get it resized.
The second his movements stopped you kissed him, with such intense heat that it would rival that which crackled softly in your fireplace. Your bodies pressed together firmly, his hands landing on either side of your neck as he held you the way you always liked. So gentle and caring that there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind about your answer to his question. And there never would be as Brian was the embodiment perfect.
“I love you so goddamn much.” You whispered, voice a little croaky as you were still very much, crying.
“I love you too.” Brian replied softly, brushing your hair behind your ear as he pressed another loving kiss to your lips, wondering how in the hell he managed to get so lucky. Not only had you agreed to go out with him but you’d now said yes to marrying him, surely he was dreaming?
Things heated up between you both again, your fingers working their way into his soft curls as you kissed him with enough passion that you wouldn’t have needed words to tell him you loved him. You jumped a little, wrapping your legs around his waist and feeling as his hands came to land on your upper thighs, holding you in place as he slowly made his way towards the couch.
The next thing you knew you were lying on top of him, the two of you naked, equally as sweaty as one another and completely out of breath. In other words, in complete and utter bliss as who knew a marriage proposal would result in the best sex the two of you had ever had.
Neither of you had paid any attention to the time, not until the antique grandfather clock you’d thrifted suddenly began to chime, causing you to lift your head a little and glance over at it.
“It’s midnight.” You whispered, smiling softly as your eyes fell back onto your boyf… Your fiancé, rather. You leaned down, pressing a light kiss to his lips before whispering. “Merry Christmas, Brian.”
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Kinktober 2024
Day 13 - Exhibition
Word count: 656
Synopsis: Cowbell sat by the greenhouse jacking off for anyone to see.
Thank you @kroas-adtam for making these prompts.
The summer sun was warm on Cowbell’s exposed skin. It wanted to blame the heat for the fuzzy feeling in its stomach, but it knew that wasn't the reason. Instead, the fuzzy feeling resulted from being entirely naked in front of the greenhouse, cock hard in its hand.
It usually wasn't one for exhibition, but after hearing Special alone in his room one night, it decided to try being on the other side.
So far, no one had passed by or exited the greenhouse, but the thrill of getting caught was still there. It could hear Mountain working away inside and the desire to open the doors, sit in front of him and continue its slow, languid pace was tempting but ultimately not its goal. Its goal was for Mountain to walk outside and catch it in the act. It might take a while, but Cowbell was nothing if not patient.
A couple of hours passed before Cowbell heard Mountain moving towards the doors. It had edged itself a few times and knew it wouldn't last when he does catch it in the act. It found it didn't quite mind. The idea of cumming in front of Mountain only spurred it on more.
Finally, with a grunt, Mountain pushed the greenhouse doors open and stretched, appreciating the soft breeze on his overwarm skin. Cowbell’s mouth started watering at the sight. The thin shirt he wore rose up slightly showing off strong back muscles glistening with sweat.
After staring out at the sunset for a few seconds, Mountain turned around and was immediately met with the sight of Cowbell slowly jacking itself off. He wanted to look away, give it some privacy, but his gut told him that this is what it wanted. He looked up and met its eyes, its gaze sultry, filled with want. Mountain gasped, his dick twitching to life.
Cowbell felt its balls draw up tighter. It wanted to last longer, bask in the attention given but the image of the tall earth ghoul staring at it in shock, pants growing tighter by the second, was too much. It came with a small whine, hot streaks of white painting its black shirt with the evidence of its debauchery.
Mountain’s eyes were transfixed on its cock, he couldn't look away even if he wanted to. The sight was too much for him, hand flying to grab at his own cock to ease the ache. Cowbell looked up and smirked, the wild look in his eyes made its cock twitch even after just cumming.
“Go on. Be a good boy and get your cock out. Show me what I did to you.” Mountain blushed, its words going straight to his dick.
He immediately unzipped his trousers and fished his cock out, the idea of disobeying Cowbell nonexistent. His dick was hard and flushed a deep, angry red aching for some sort of stimulation. He gripped his cock properly now, a bead of pre dribbling from the tip.
“Aww, did I get you that worked up already?” It chuckled, licking its lips at the view. Mountain whimpered pathetically, nodding his head.
“Why don't you sit down next to me and we can wait for someone else to pass by together. I’m sure one of your pack will be down soon to find out where you are.”
He was already dangerously close just from watching Cowbell, the idea of someone catching him like this pushing him closer to the edge than he would have thought possible. Still, he sat down next to the ghoul.
He looked over waiting for his next instruction, but the dark smirk plastered on Cowbell’s face threw him over the edge. He came with a loud groan, shame washing over him. Cowbell tutted, feigning annoyance.
“What a shame no one else saw that. Oh well, guess we’ll just have to keep going until someone comes down.” Mountain was in for a long afternoon.
#kinktober#kinktober 2024#ghostober#ghostober 2024#the band ghost#ghost band#nameless ghouls#cowbell ghoul#mountain ghoul#cw exhibitionism
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Always The Babysitter - Chapter Twelve: Will the Wise
Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) (eventually) Word Count: 2,271 Warnings: fluff, lil' bit of angst, maybe a phrase we're gonna see in the future? 👀, dart... eating mews Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! We've got more fluff in this episode!! What do we think about Steve & Olivia's friendship? Remember, if you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
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Hopper ended up taking me back to the station, where I biked home when my shift was over. He told me on the way that I couldn’t see her because it was dangerous- the same thing he told me the night before.
I understood and went home when my shift was done, seeing Dustin home as well. We hung out that night, watching tv with our mom before we had to take our showers and go to bed.
Mom said she needed the car again for errands today since she didn’t get all of them done yesterday, which was fine because when I stepped outside after Dustin turned onto the street, Steve was pulling into my driveway.
I didn’t have to do an early shift at the station, so we went straight to school, talking about anything and everything again. I told him about the pumpkins and how they were all rotting for no apparent reason.
We walked into the school together, laughing about something he’d said. Our first periods were next to each other, so we parted ways for an hour before we stopped by my second period, where my teacher was holding my assignments for the day, then went to the gym where I sat in my usual spot on the bleachers and got to work on my schoolwork before the boys played Shirts vs Skins again.
I watched as Steve tried to keep Billy from getting the ball, only for Billy’s teammate to throw it to him, Steve trying to knock the ball away from Billy, who ended up pushing Steve away a little to dribble the ball.
“Alright!” Billy said. “Alright, alright!” Gesturing towards Steve, he said, “King Steve! King Steve, everyone. And his lovely Queen behind him!”
I rolled my eyes at his words. All I wanted to do was come out of the bleachers to pummel his face in.
“I like it,” Billy added. “Playing tough today.”
“Jesus! Do you ever stop talking, man? Come on!” Steve said.
Billy laughed before saying, “What? You afraid the coach is gonna bench you now that I’m here? Huh? Or are you afraid your Queen is gonna go for a real man?” He shouldered Steve, making a basket before looking at me and winking.
“Ew,” I muttered.
“What?” he asked.
“I think I threw up in my mouth a little,” I sighed. “Watch your fucking back, Hargrove.”
He chuckled and turned around, bending down to help Steve up, but instead stopped about halfway and said, “You were moving your feet. Plant them next time, draw a charge,” before pushing him back down to the ground.
Again, red. All I saw. I leapt out of the bleachers so fast, I didn’t even register Steve getting up and putting his arms around my waist, putting my back against his front.
“Let go, Steve,” I said, struggling to get out of his hold.
“No.”
“Let. Me. Go.”
“No.”
“Aw, come on, Harrington,” Billy said. “Let her see what a real man is all about.”
I struggled even more against Steve, but stopped when the coach blew his whistle, calling my name. I looked his way when he blew the whistle again, telling his team to go hit the showers.
Steve told me to wait in my spot, and not talk to Billy, no matter what he says to me. I sighed and nodded, telling him not to take too long.
I went back to doing my schoolwork when the last bell rang for the next class, but I just stayed put, not caring about going to class. I definitely wanted to leave when I heard Billy say, “Especially that one.”
I looked up, seeing him looking at me with a smile that I’m sure would get a lot of girls out here wet, but not me.
Tommy H. said something that I really didn’t need to comprehend as I heard their sneakers on the gym floor.
“Ready?” Steve asked, standing by the bleachers a couple minutes later.
I got down, shouldering my bag. “I really don’t want to be here anymore. I just… I wanna go to the station to get my hours in and go home to soak in a nice, hot bubble bath.”
He put his arm around me as I took a deep breath. “It’ll be fine. Just ignore him.”
I gasped. “I have an idea. I just go to the front office and tell them that Hop needs me early today and that I need to get there right away! Problem solved!”
Steve laughed, but agreed. Surprisingly, the administrators believed the hell out of me, which made Steve and I laugh once we got in the car.
“I cannot believe that worked,” I laughed as Steve was backing out of his spot.
He shook his head, a smile on his face as he put the car in drive and drove off to the station.
“Thanks for taking me around,” I said. “Since Mom’s been needing the car here lately.”
“It’s no problem,” Steve replied. “I enjoy it. Really.”
I smiled and looked out the window. If I don’t get these feelings under control, I might just kiss him stupid.
~~~
Hopper wasn’t at the station when Steve dropped me off. I asked Flo where he was, and she told me that he was probably at the Byers house. Groaning, I walked back outside, Steve’s car a block away. He was stopped a light, which I thanked the universe for. I got it in and scared him half to death.
“Geez–”
“I need you to take me to the Byers,” I rushed. “Hop’s there.”
He nodded and took the next turn to drive to the Byers home. The drive was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. When we got there, I thanked him and kissed his cheek, something I hadn’t realized I’d done until I got halfway to the door.
The front door was open, and cold inside the house. “Hello?” “Olivia?” Joyce said. She came around the corner. “Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered. “But I was having some rage issues towards another student– what’s going on?”
“Come on,” she said, giving me the come here motion with her hand.
I followed her to Will’s room, the boy just sitting there facing the window. “What’s wrong with him?” I whispered.
“Will, honey, Olivia’s here to visit,” Joyce said.
At his non-response, Joyce, Hop and I sat down next to Will on his bed, two drawings in Hop’s hands. “So this thing, this shadow thing,” Hop said. “You told your mom it likes it like this. It likes it cold?” With red rimmed eyes, Will whispered, “Yeah.” Confusion laced over my face, I asked, “How do you know that?”
“I just… know.”
Hopper looked at the drawings again before asking, “Does he talk to you?”
“No,” Will said. “It’s like… I don’t have to think. I just know things now. Things I never did before.”
Hopper got up and moved to sit in Will’s desk chair, asking, “And, uhh… what else do you know?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Will said. “It’s like old memories in the back of my head, only… they’re not my memories.”
I wanted to wrap my arm around his upper back like I used to, but feared doing it for some reason.
“I mean, I don’t think they’re old memories at all,” Will continued. “They’re… they’re now-memories, happening all at once, now.”
“Can you describe these now-memories?” Hopper asked.
“I don’t know,” Will replied after a moment. “It’s… it’s hard to explain.”
“I know it’s hard,” Joyce said. “But can you try? For us?”
With tears in his eyes, Will replied, “It’s like… they’re growing and spreading… killing.”
“The memories?”
“I don’t know.” He started crying, saying, “I’m sorry,” as he put his face in the crook of his mother’s neck. She looked around for a moment before looking me in the eyes.
“What if you draw them?” I asked. “It’ll be easier than using words.”
When he agreed, he moved to his desk to start drawing… more like scribbling. Once there were enough papers he’d tossed to the ground, we picked them up and took them into the living room, going back every so often to fetch more.
I was looking at them, more confused than ever. “I’m so fucking confused,” I whispered.
“Language,” Hopper groaned.
“This is more of the same,” Joyce said.
“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just scribbles.” He put one page behind the others he was holding, Joyce telling him to wait before she started looking for a paper in her stack, connecting the papers together.
“Oh, my goodness,” I said, realization hitting me like a bus. “I know what he’s doing.” I ran to get more papers, waiting for both adults to give me instruction.
“Wait, what?” Hopper asked.
“All the lines connect, Hop.”
We moved the table and couch out of the way, setting the papers down on the ground. I sat on the ground on my knees, connecting each paper that was dropping to the floor. I enjoyed doing puzzles. They relaxed me a lot.
We went back to get more papers as fast as we were putting the lines together from each paper. Once we were done and had every single paper that we had taped together, we stepped back to admire the work we’d just done.
“Does this mean anything to you?” Hopper asked, before moving along the papers.
“No,” Joyce said. “Is it some sort of maze or a road? I mean, it’s sort of forking and branching like… like lightning.”
“You think it’s that storm?”
“No, the storm he drew was different,” I said. “He used red. This is all blue and some weird dirt color.”
“Maybe it’s roots,” Joyce suggested. “‘Cause remember, he was saying it was spreading–”
“Killing,” Hop and I said.
“He said they were killing,” he said. He stood there for a moment before saying, “Vines.” He turned to put his jacket and hat on while saying, “He’s drawing vines.”
When he walked out, I looked at Joyce with my arms crossed. “I was gonna say he’s drawing some sort of map, but vines is good, too.”
She chuckled before looking at her watch. “Oh, sweetie, you better go. Don’t wanna be late to start your hours.”
“I’m sure our Chief here will count towards my hours,” I said.
She gave me that look that only mothers know how to give, so I relented. “Okay. I’ll go to the station and put in my hours.”
~~~
When I walked up the driveway, I heard a bike behind me. Turning to see who it was, I smiled when it was Dustin. He didn’t acknowledge me as he passed me, but he did almost shut the door on my face when he walked in the house.
Mom was filling up Mews’ food bowl when I walked in, Dustin saying his apologizes.
“Where are you?” Mom yelled. “Mew-Mew.” She looked our way, saying, “Oh, hi, kids.”
“Hey, Mom,” we said.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Dustin said. “Yeah.”
“Livvie, how were your hours?”
“Fine, Mama,” I smiled. “The Chief has this big case regarding the pump–”
“Liv!” Dustin yelled.
I sighed before kissing my mom’s cheek, telling her I’d talk to her about my hours later. Dustin called my name again as I walked down the hallway, my reply being that if he didn’t shut his face, I’d take his teeth and hide them.
When I walked into his room and slid the door shut, I watched him walk to Yurtle’s tank, saying, “Dart, I’ve gotta talk to you, buddy.” He took off his hat and backpack, slinging them onto his bed. “It’s about my friend, Will.”
“Who the hell is Dart?” I asked.
“You’re about to see,” he smiled, turning to look at me. Taking a sheet off the tank, he said, “I think–” before stopping his words, the glass on the tank shattered.
“You better start explaining,” I said, coming to stand next to him.
“Liv, look.”
I looked at the slime that was dripping off the edges of the broken glass, more on the floor of the tank. “Gross.”
Dustin picked up what looked like molted skin, something a snake would shed. “What the hell?”
A roaring sound made me jump and turn around to face the other side of the room. A sound that was all too familiar.
“I swear to god, Dustin,” I whispered.
“Dart?” Dustin said.
I saw a blood trail from about the middle of the room on the carpet to the chair sitting in the corner of the room, going over it. We looked over, my mouth instantly hanging open.
“Oh, my god. Mews,” I gasped.
The creature turned and faced us, opening its mouth and screeching. I put a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming before walking out of Dustin’s room and into mine.
“Liv, I need you to keep calm,” Dustin said, sliding my door shut.
“Keep calm?” I exclaimed. “Keep calm? Dustin, why is there a fucking Demogorgon in the house?!” I whisper-yelled my question, not wanting to alarm our mom. “Why the hell was it eating Mews?”
“When I found him, he looked like a new species of reptile–”
“Well, he’s not! He’s from the Upside Down! Hopefully he can’t eat through wood because you’re sleeping in here tonight. Or you need to find some way to keep him contained tonight.”
It was quiet for a moment before he asked, “But he’s cute, though, right?” with a small smile on his face.
“Oh, my god.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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A/N 2: hi, friends! what do we think about hop trying to keep liv's language in check? please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.
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Posted on January 22, 2024
#steve harrington x olivia henderson#steve x olivia#steve harrington x oc#steve x oc#steve harrington#olivia henderson (oc)#stevia#always the babysitter#atb#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#will byers#mike wheeler#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#joyce byers#chief hopper#eleven hopper#season two episode four#original character#home slice olivia was all me#stranger things imagine#stranger things fandom#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fandom#steve fanfiction
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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne
batfamily + oc insert
tw: none
wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!
want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!
this chapters kinda short but I wanted the ANGST to have its own moment lmao, loved leaning into damian’s insecurity for this one
also thank you dami for refueling bentley’s incredibly irrational and borderline stupid idea making tendencies
part nine
❝ PITY ❞
THURSDAY — AUGUST 6 — 5:11PM
BENTLEY DIDN’T SLEEP AGAIN AFTER HIS NIGHTMARE, AND NEITHER DID BRUCE. Instead, they went back to the cave after a while and sat with Dick. All of Alfred’s swabs and tests came back clear, which meant he hadn’t been injected with, inhaled, or even misted with any kind of toxic chemical that could do this to him. (Bruce had told Bentley about fear toxin, an inhalable chemical one of their past villains used that made a person live through their worst fears in their head.) A quick comparison of current Dick’s vital charts and past-Dick-on-fear-toxin’s charts looked freakishly similar, despite one major change: he didn’t have any fear toxin in him.
Which meant, if it wasn’t chemical, he was being attacked psychologically. Somehow.
All signs pointed to it being the Secret Keeper, but she hadn’t done anything to anyone besides plaguing them in bad dreams, much less knocking them out without touching them and wreaking havoc on their brains for six hours. (Which was how long Dick had thrashed and cried and whined for in his unconscious state.) On hour seven, he went limp and still, which probably meant he’d tired himself out.
Bentley didn’t go to school on Wednesday or Thursday, and he didn’t sleep Wednesday night, either. Bruce didn’t seem to mind (he actually seemed a little relieved) and Bentley didn’t want to risk seeing the Secret Keeper out and about. His teachers posted his classwork online, anyhow, so he wouldn’t miss any schoolwork. He spent the better of the two days switching between using Tim’s old computer to do his schoolwork, playing red light green light around the Manor to avoid Damian, drifting down to the cave to check on Dick, and attempting to take power naps that never lasted that long.
Not to mention being texted… like a lot. Ot started when Nico texted early Wednesday morning to ask if he was okay, and why he wasn’t at school. Bentley simply told him he had been sick the night before. (Technically not a lie.) Then Nico took it upon himself to text Bentley all about their environmental science class, even including pictures of their worksheets, and had also taken it upon himself to ask how Bentley was feeling just about every hour. (He always just said better than last night.) Then, Bentley got a text from a random number at lunchtime on Wednesday about how Damian was, quote-on-quote, so creepy. And only ten minutes later and lots of confusion from Bentley did that number come back and say, oh yeah, it’s asten, got your number from nico. heard you were sick. sucks dude.
While Asten wasn’t as incessant about asking how Bentley was doing as Nico was, he did tell him about Spanish class and rant about Ms. Venetstantos making him speak Portuguese every day. And he decided Bentley was a good outlet for all things conspiracy and detective-y, because he kept sending him random articles about metahumans and missing people and Secret Keeper sightings and typing long, drawn out theories about what was going on that ranged from plausible to outright impossible. (Bentley only pretended he read the ones about the Secret Keeper.)
He didn’t remember until those texts that he and Asten had both put detective as their dream job on their get to know me sheets. (Nico had pointed it out on the second day of school when the teacher put those up in the hallway.) He was obviously getting started early. The amount of recon and web-surfing and conclusion drawing he did reminded Bentley of Tim.
Speaking of, Tim and Jason and Steph and Cass had all shown up at the Manor Wednesday and Thursday. Which was strange, considering they’d all been avoiding Damian like the plague. But he didn’t mind — he liked having everybody home.
Bentley started to get really worried about Dick when, on Thursday at five in the evening, (42 hours after Dick had collapsed on Patrol.) he was still laying in that same bed, not thrashing like before, but tossing and turning, still visibly distressed.
He’d been long since changed out of his Nightwing uniform and into some loose sweats, and was connected to drips and other things to keep him hydrated and nourished in his unconscious state. Bentley had finished another color-the-map geography paper about an hour ago and made his way back to the rolling chair stationed next to Dick’s bed.
He had no earthly idea what was wrong with him, but he wished it would all stop. It'd been hard enough seeing Dick during a nightmare he could wake up from — but now, when he was trapped in his own head and no amount of yelling or shaking could snap him out of it, it was practically a form of secondary torture for the entire family. Tim had retired to the Batcomputer, trying so hard to find some kind of solution, or at least a case of something similar, and Bentley didn’t think he’d been upstairs since Dick collapsed.
As of now, five in the evening on Thursday, he, Bentley and Dick were the only three in the cave. Alfred popped in and out often, and Bruce a little less often.
Bentley was sitting next to Dick’s bed, telling him about all the texts he’d been receiving. (Alfred said talking to him would help, so Bentley was trying his best.) He’d taken to telling him about Asten’s conspiracy theories and the new group chat he’d been added to not three minutes ago, with Nico and Asten, in which they were arguing about the possibility of said conspiracies and asking for Bentley’s input. (Asten’s conspiracy about aliens swapping a human’s brain for an alien brain via something he called ‘materialization tech’ and endowing them with the power of the stars being the origin of metahumans was the one on the table now. It was already segwaying into metahuman world domination.)
But eventually, even with the group chat blowing up his phone with the probabilities of metahumans turning the country into a dictatorship, he fell quiet and just took to holding Dick’s hand. He didn’t scream when he grabbed it, at least. But it didn’t seem to make anything better, either.
He was just debating on whether or not he should try to wake him up again when a voice sounded from the doorway of the medbay:
“Hey, Bentley,”
He glanced over, brown eyes locking onto Tim’s icy blue ones. He looked exhausted. Bentley knew he’d been working hard on the missing person and metahuman cases before this happened to Dick. But now? Bentley wasn’t sure if self-preservation was even on his radar anymore. He hadn’t seen him ingest anything other than coffee in a solid two days (given he very well could have when Bentley wasn’t around.) and he was pretty sure sleep wasn’t even a thing he thought about anymore. Though he looked like he needed it.
“Hey,” Bentley replied quietly, slipping his hand out of Dick’s and pulling it back to his lap.
“Doing okay?” Was Tim’s next question, and he moved forward just enough to rest a hand on the top of Bentley’s head.
He shrugged. “Have you found anything to help Dick?”
The weakly plastered-on content expression fell off of Tim’s face. “No. I haven’t been able to find anything.”
Bentley said nothing, but looked back at Dick, who was moving his head back and forth with soft whines.
“Is he going to die?”
It was a heavy question, yeah, but a question that had undoubtedly been floating around in all of their minds since his unfortunate patrol. With all the metahuman stuff out of the way, Dick would technically be classified as in a coma. And lots of people who went into comas didn’t come out of them.
Bentley heard Tim let out a puff of air.
“I don’t know,” He said, hardly a whisper, letting his hand move down Bentley’s head and rest on the back of his neck. “He’s stable, even if it looks like he’s in pain. It’s not ideal, but it’s… better than anything getting worse, I guess.”
Bentley nodded slightly, and hoped that Dick would get better soon.
He heard someone walk across the room on the other side of the cave, and both he and Tim glanced over just in time to see Damian disappear back up the stairs to the Manor. When had he come down there? He wasn’t down there five minutes ago.
“Maybe you should talk to him,” Tim suggested after a quiet moment. “He might actually open up to you.”
Bentley glanced over at him skeptically. “Damian? No he won’t.”
Tim snickered. “That kid would never in a million years cuddle up next to anybody sick like he did you. And he definitely wouldn’t get up in a hospital bed with any of us except, maybe Dick.”
Bentley said nothing. He did kind of miss Damian. Like, the old, not-angry Damian, that took him around the Manor to do things and actually talked to him.
Bentley shrugged. “I’m afraid he’s gonna stab me.”
“Aren’t we all?” Tim snickered. “Seriously, though, he cares about you. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
“I know, but…” Bentley trailed off, glancing down at his hands.
“There’s still a chance,” Tim finished his thought. “Yeah, I know.”
Bentley said nothing.
“It might be good for you to go upstairs for a while,” He continued, and Bentley glanced back up at Dick, who was still shifting uncomfortably in the bed. “I’ll sit with him.”
Bentley nodded. He wasn’t really in the mood to argue, and he needed to finish his schoolwork anyway.
He pushed himself out of the chair and bid goodbye to Tim, heading back up to the Manor. He took to reading the group chat messages he’d missed on the way through the house and up the stairs. Nico was currently trying to explain to Asten that aliens couldn’t use technology he’d made up, and he was arguing that they could because they could read everyone’s minds.
Bentley had nearly made it into his room when he bumped right into someone.
“Sorry-“ He muttered, glancing up from his screen to meet Damian’s ice cold blue-green eyes. The assassin’s glare alone shut Bentley up.
Damian walked past him with nothing more than a faint scowl, heading for the stairs.
He wasn’t planning on talking to him, but it was a better opportunity than seeking the angry assassin out.
“… hey, Damian?”
Bentley turned on his heel, and Damian did, too, shooting him another dagger-like-glance.
Bentley wanted to recoil and say nevermind, but that wouldn’t be very helpful. “What’s wrong?” He asked instead, really focusing on the fact that Tim said Damian wouldn’t hurt him.
“You should know well enough, Whittaker,”
Bentley nearly flinched when Damian used his last name instead of Bentley like he always did. Why in the world would he know what was going on when Damian wouldn’t tell anyone?
“I don’t…” Bentley blinked, searching Damian’s face and then looking at the floor when the unpleasant expression got too reminiscent of his father’s. He knew what that expression meant. And coming from Damian, it made him want to cry.
A moment of silence passed, and when it was clear Damian didn’t intend on speaking, Bentley muttered in a tiny voice: “You’re mad at me?”
Silence.
Bentley thought and thought and thought about all the interactions he’d had with Damian before he started getting upset, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember doing anything wrong. He’d asked Damian to teach him about throwing knives, but he’d told him yes. (He hadn’t done it yet. Was it maybe Bentley’s fault for never asking again?) He didn’t think that was enough to make Damian so upset for so long.
Bentley wished he could bring his knees up, but he was standing, so he wrapped his arms around himself instead. He hoped Damian couldn’t see the slight wetness brimming in his eyes at the very prospect he’d done something so bad the assassin didn’t even want to talk to him anymore and he didn’t know what it was.
He looked at the floor in a vague attempt to hide it. “What did I do?”
“Exactly what you’re doing right now,” Damian replied bitterly, in a tone that literally made Bentley want to start crying. “You weaseled your way into this family with nothing more than pity. All you have to do is shed a few tears and you have the whole household at your feet — the only reason you’re here is because my father and brothers feel bad for you. Because you’re exactly what your father trained you to be. A manipulator.”
Bentley did flinch, that time, like he was dodging knives made of words. It wouldn’t be any use — Damian never missed.
“Your relationships are built on pity, your place in this family is built on pity. Even Drake has contributed more than you, and I’m not shy about discussing his obvious inferiority,” Damian spat. “I am a Wayne by blood and I have to work to be part of this. If I had even considered doing anything like you did with your father, considered betraying this family like you did, they would…”
Damian trailed off.
“You don’t deserve to be here. It’s pity that’s keeping you in this house, pity that’s holding your relationships together, and once that pity is gone, what’s going to be left? Nothing. Because pity is all you are. Pity is what you’re built for, and once it’s gone, you’re going to be left with nothing, useless, just like your father created you to be.”
Bentley watched through blurry eyes as Damian turned and continued down the stairs like he hadn’t just dispatched a carefully-sharpened killshot right through Bentley’s chest.
Damian didn’t want him there.
Thank goodness he was right next to his bedroom, because he hardly had time to get inside and close the door before he started crying.
Everything Damian said was right — he was in this family out of pity. If it weren’t for pity, none of this would’ve happened.
And Damian didn’t want him there. This was his worst nightmare. Tim was wrong, Damian had hurt him.
He walked over to his bed in the dark — the lights were off but the sun was still somewhat out — and curled up in a tiny ball in it, covered his head with the blankets, and cried.
Dick had been taken in when he had nothing, and became Robin to help Bruce fight crime. Jason got taken in off the streets and became Robin. Tim got taken out of a neglectful household and became Robin. Damian got shipped here from overseas to be Robin. Cass, Duke, Steph, Barbara, they were all superheroes, crime fighters, vigilantes.
What the hell did Bentley have to do to make himself deserve being a Wayne?
Become a superhero?
—
dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚
—
tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)
@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod
#bat family#batboys#batfamily#batfam#batman#oc; bentley#oc; bentley whittaker#mb; a hundred ways to become a wayne#ov; secret keeper#ov; the secret keeper#ov; charlie reins#alfred pennyworth#bruce wayne#barbara gordon#oracle#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#red hood#cassandra cain#orphan#tim drake#red robin#stephanie brown#spoiler#duke thomas#signal#damian wayne#damian al ghul#dc robin
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Fight fire with fire
Summary: Kyle is Kennys soulmate, the only problem with that is they both fall under the same ranking- it goes anywhere and everywhere but where Kenny expected when Kyle realizes it.
Warnings: Omegaverse, the talk, panic, check Ao3 port for full tags
Authors Note: *hits post button with the strength of a day old rat* day six woohoo. school is fucking me up big time, but i did draw something semi-artistic in advance so no fic tomorrow. hope ya'll enjoy this one, if you do maybe consider dropping a reblog or checking the ao3 port
It started in grade eight, right around the time many would present with their ranking. Alpha, Beta, or Omega, and there were always a few who fit the gray areas in between without scientifically accepted terminology. In grade eight, when you would would wake up and know that something is different. You'd wake up, walk downstairs and all eyes would be on you as they take in the new, still-forming scent and figure it out.
And then you'd go to school and the teachers would take a small blood sample around your scent gland and put it in a machine. They were always kind enough to keep it quiet around your rank, something for you to boast instead. They'd hand you a slip of paper after class and send you off to return the next day with the information.
In South Park, things are a little bit different, you have to figure it out on your own.
"Ha! I bet Kyles gonna end up an Omega," Cartman snickered to as the aforementioned redhead walked into the class.
He looked completely calm and collected, and Cartman didn't like that. He sat down at his desk and simply ignored Cartman instead of antagonizing. Three years ago he gladly would've thrown words and fists with him but he's mature now. He's presented now and he plans full well on holding that over his friends heads because he hit the moment first. (Unless Stan, Kenny, or Cartman also presented in the dead of night like Kyle did)
Stan picked up the slight difference first, "Did you get your rank last night dude?"
Kyle nodded, "I had to take a two hour shower to wash off the residual scent man, I would recommend against presenting."
"So what are you Kyle? An Omega?" Cartman teased in a singsong voice.
"Yeah man, what are you?" Kenny chimed in with, leaning over his desk a bit.
"An Alpha," Kyle answered with, grinning smugly.
And Cartman burst out laughing in disbelief.
"You're joking! You have to be, you can't be an Alpha! You're obviously an Omega!" Cartman exclaimed, still laughing all the while. He shut up the second Kyle had him pressed against his desk, hands pinned behind his back and the corner of the desk jutting into his thigh. He gave a weak wheeze of a laugh, "Idiot," Then he kicked and it hurt (a lot) but Kyle didn't falter.
"I can't be an Alpha, right? Then prove it, give me a command," Kyle snarled out, venom clear as day on his voice, "Everyone knows Omegas crumble even under unranked fuckers like yourself."
Cartman just laughed as best he could, "Fuck off Kyle," The edge required for a command wasn't present.
Kenny placed a hand on Kyle shoulder, "Dude, let go of Cartman."
Kyle glared at him, digging his nails into Cartmans wrists.
"Let him go," Kenny demanded and Kyle heeled like a dog whether he liked it or not. His grip on Cartmans wrists came undone in a second and he stepped back.
"Fine," He spat the word, "Tell him not to be an asshole and I won't do it again."
Stan simply stared, "Maybe you are an Omega dude."
"What?" Kyle turned around so fast it could give him whiplash as the word burst from his mouth.
"You just followed Kennys order like a pet dog," Stan said calmly, aware that Kyle wouldn't hurt him or pin him.
Kyle paused briefly, "And? He's my friend, I was just taking his advice."
"Don't be so insecure, we won't make fun of you if you're an Omega," Stan said, it only stoked the fire in the pit of Kyles stomach more.
"It'd be a good balance to have one Omega in the group, more than two Alphas would lead to self-destruction," Kenny explained and Kyles glare was sharp as an axe.
"What makes you so sure anyone else in this group is gonna be an Alpha? Let alone two?" Kyle questioned, watching with rapt intrigue as Kenny rubbed his wrists together.
Scent glands, he was exfoliating them to release more pheromones- but he had no pheromones. Or really weak ones, he still hadn't presented and the scent of a rankless person would do nothing to calm down Kyle. Or whip him into a frenzy, whatever their purpose they wouldn't work.
Kenny grabbed Kyle and pressed his inner wrist against his nose, the second strongest scent gland on the body held just under his nostrils. He tried to lessen his breathing as Kenny held his wrist to Kyles nose, it was incredibly awkward. Kyle simply scowled and held his breath.
"Just breathe," Kenny said, letting go of the back of Kyles head, "I'm not chloroforming you with my wrists."
Kyle took a deep breath, the heady scent that Kenny held hit him impossibly hard. He coughed a little bit as he staggered back at the oak and cherry scent (there was alcohol but that was just his homes scent rubbing off on him). It burned his nostrils just a bit but in a good way, if felt almost right and he swears the scents all meld into one reminiscent of a wine he snuck at Stans house
"Fuck man, that's pungent," Kyle said, still trying to get it out of his lungs.
"I was presenting when I woke up this morning, took a long ass shower and hoped to god my parka would cover the scent," Kenny explained, "Apparently it did."
"Kennys an Alpha too? What a fucking world," Cartman muttered out as he pulled out his desk chair and sat down.
Kyle gives a hum of amusement, "That means you and Stan are gonna be our Omegas at the end of it all."
"What makes you think I'll be an Omega?!" Cartman snapped.
"It'd be funny," Stan answered with bluntly.
"Super funny," Kenny chimed in with.
Cartman paused, heat coiling under his skin uncomfortably, "What about our soulmarks?! We still gotta wait for those!"
"Don't worry Cartman, until you get your mark I'll help you with your heats," Kenny taunted in a sickeningly sweet voice.
"Shut up!" Cartman snapped.
Kyle leans forward with a bemused hum, "No, you shut up," He holds a commanding edge to his tone and Cartman obeys it, keeping his mouth shut.
"Man I wish I presented," Stan managed wistfully, "Being an Alpha looks like fun."
"It is," Kenny and Kyle said in near unison.
-/-/-/-
Both Kyle and Kenny were brought aside in class, led down the same brightly lit hall, and left standing in front of a door. They didn't dare turn back with their teacher standing over them imposingly. Instead they looked around to find Cartman and Stan being led into two separate rooms. It was all oddly suspicious, and somewhat worrying, but in the same breath all too familiar in the worst way possible.
"Is this sex ed?" Kenny asked bluntly, tugging together the pieces in his head.
He got no response.
"So that's a yes," He got a little bit quieter.
"Gross," Kyle said, shuddering at the notions alone of listening to a teacher drone on about sex once more. Last time this happened their teacher barely knew how the basics of straight sex worked, even without putting ranks into consideration.
"Dude, it'll be fine, there aren't a lot of Alphas this year, mostly Deltas and Betas," Kenny said, placing a reassuring hand on Kyles shoulder, "Besides, you and I both know I'll correct anything they get wrong."
Kyle gave a weak laugh as he pushed open the door, "Totally."
Inside the near empty room sat two others from when they were young, the rest of the desks vacant. Wendy Testaburger and Tweek Tweak sitting up front and idly chatting as the brightness of the projectors light illuminated the dark room. It took a second before Kyle and Kenny made their way in, taking a seat beside Wendy.
"Where's everyone else?" Kyle asked in a hushed tone.
Wendy shrugged, "They probably knew what day it was and skipped on purpose."
"That explains why half the class was fucking gone," Kenny said, "Everyone knew the teachers don't know the difference between a heat and a rut am I right?"
"Totally," Tweek agreed, nodding his head as he spoke.
Kyle glanced haphazardly around the room, "Do you know when the teachers coming?"
"No clue," Wendy said, "How do you think Cartmans doing?"
Kenny hummed, as though deep in thought, "If their teacher is on time then I'd say he's just about to learn he can get pregnant."
"For real?" Tweak asked.
"Listen closely," Kenny said.
And is though it were on cue, a muffled scream of horror originating from Cartman could be heard coming from across the hall. Then a door opening and being slammed shut followed by heavy footsteps.
"Like I said," Kenny stated smugly.
"Christ how much do you know about sex?" Kyle asked.
"More than expected, I was talking about all sorts of weird shit way back in grade school man, you should know I know my stuff," Kenny said, a sly smirk held on his face.
"If the teacher messes up too much you'll pull us aside and correct them, right?" Wendy asked, tone far too serious to dare interpret as joking.
Kenny nodded, "Of course Wendy, least I can do for you and your future Omegas sake."
"Could be Beta," Kyle said, drawing out the A as he spoke.
Wendy nodded, "Yeah Kenny, our soul marks still haven't shown up."
"They won't for another t-t-three years! What are we gonna do during ruts?" Tweek questioned, his usual somewhat erratic self showing through.
"We'll ask the teacher," Kenny said nonchalantly as the door creaked open and a teacher walked in.
She turned on the slideshow before making her way to the front of the class. She cleared her throat before speaking, "Not a lot of Alphas this year?"
"Theres a few more than us but they got sick," Kyle said.
"That sucks, you four know what you're here for?" She asked, holding up the remote for the slideshow and turning it to more a comfortable blue tone, few words lay on the slide.
Everyone nodded before answering in a monotonous tone, "Sex ed."
"Correct, today we'll be talking about pre-rut slash pre-heat etiquette," The teacher said as calmly as she could, Kenny held up his hand, "Yes, you in the orange?"
"Will we bring up what to do before our soulmarks show up?" Kenny asked as innocently as he could muster despite having quite a few ideas.
The teacher nodded, "Yes, but for now let's do my curriculum for day one."
A twist of terror formed in the pit of everyones stomach at the notions of this merely being 'day one' of who knows how many. One hour of The Talk way back in grade four was enough to give Wendy nightmares and Kyle nausea, multiple days? It could very well kill them.
"So, if you want to mate, and potentially breed, your soulmate you have to discuss it with them before their pre-heat and your own pre-rut," The teacher said, voice cutting through the tension and making it worse, "Bring it up however you'd like to do so, but I'd suggest having it on paper, for legal reasons."
Everyone stayed quiet.
"Now, once you've made an arrangement you simply wait for their next heat or your next rut, for best effects wait until you've synced up. If your Omega is female than she'll be able to conceive when she isn't in heat if you're in a rut, if your Omega is male you have to wait till he's in heat. When their pre-heat begins they'll nest and do what they usually do," The teacher explained, Kenny already knew it. She flipped to the next slide. "It's up to you to notice and get consent once more before the heat begins or else it's considered illegal."
"It is?" Kenny asked without raising his hand, "Cause I've heard that South Park is making the idiot move to lift that law, making it unpunishable if previous agreements were made before pre-rut slash heat
"Illegal or not it'd still be considered rape and heavily punishable, especially if they conceive," The teacher said sternly, "Do not do anything without full consent, even if it's to a Beta cause they can still get pregnant, understood?"
Kenny nodded, "Please, continue."
"Alright now, I'm sure all of you have underwent a rut at least once already, correct?" The teacher asked.
Everyone reluctantly nodded, a twist of discomfort at disclosing the information despite the fact it was a normal. They all knew it was part of the education but fessing up to a normal biological function in front of a crowd was awkward.
"Pre-ruts are a little bit different than pre-heats, for one, Alphas usually don't go brain dead in the same way. They usually remember to eat food and drink lots of water," She said, rambling a bit, "But, you will have to keep the doors locked so you don't end up meandering into public in an impaired state. I'm sure you've heard of the cases for people who have? Plenty of lawsuits are in order."
That was just a little bit horrifying, the notions of being so brain dead they'd just go out there and fuck the first Omega in sight regardless of soulmark. They also knew that before society was as far along as it is now that things just worked like that and soulmarks were burned off.
"Lock the doors and the windows, make sure you have enough food littered across your roaming grounds for when you fully enter your rut. Let your friends know to stay away when it happens, especially if they're a lower rank. If it's Alpha to Alpha than really only a small amount of violence will happen before scent recognition tries to kick in; you'll both live," The teacher said calmly, "Alphas usually don't nest but some do, so don't be alarmed if you end up doing so, just ask your Omega for tips."
Wendy held up her hand.
"Yes, purple?" The teacher said.
"What are roaming grounds?" Wendy asked quietly, nervously at that.
"The roaming grounds are your territory, your own personal area, for most living on their own it's their whole home, for you guys I'd say it'd merely be your room," The teacher explained, "Now, any other questions?"
Kyle raised his hand.
"Green hat?"
He bit his lip in anxiousness before speaking, "What if both you and your soulmate are Alphas?"
The teacher laughed, "That almost never happens, and when it does society usually gets rid of them one way or another."
Kyles blood turned to ice, "Oh."
"Unlike two Omegas being soulmates, or two Betas, Alphas can't reproduce," The teacher said, "And as you all know that's highly frowned upon. Even with surrogate Omegas involved an A4A couple is usually shunned unless in the case of previous soulmates dying off and bonding over that."
"Well that's horrifying," Wendy said bluntly, "Couldn't be any of us."
"Definitely not," Kenny said, "We have the benefit of the doubt."
-/-/-/-
It truly went downhill on Kyles eighteenth birthday, two months after Kennys and the day that he gets his soulmark.
Way back during Kennys eighteenth birthday it was just him and Cartman hanging out for the night, waiting for his mark to appear. Playing video games, indulging in the oddly decadent dishes Liane would offer, laughing and having a great time despite the 'unfortunate' aspect of Cartmans biology. He ended up an Omega, the only one in their quartet, mere weeks after Stan presented as a Beta. His rank didn't do shit to deter the consistent broship he's had with his friends since the earliest days of kindergarten.
Still, he was distraught when word first came out and he was forced to come to terms with it, he was just lucky that he had two Alphas who wouldn't take shit to protect him. He'd never say out loud how much he appreciated the intimidation they did for him now that his rank was out in the open. Or that he appreciated the time Stan would spend to calm him down whenever he's been whipped into a frenzy by some stupid kid. But they all got the point when he shut up just a little bit more about Kyle being Jewish and Kenny being poor and whichever of Stans problems was on the table.
"Dude, it's like, ten PM," Cartman began with a yawn as he looked at the digital clock beside his bed, "I think you might be mateless."
"Bullshit, I just gotta wait a little bit longer," Kenny said, mashing more buttons as the screen flashed bright red indicating another kill.
Cartman shrugged as he stood up, "Okay man, I'll be back."
"With cheesy puffs?" Kenny asked.
"Obviously," Cartman answered with a roll of his eyes.
He left the door open on the way out, calm colors of the small TV screen filtering into the hallway. Kenny gave a sigh as he dropped backwards onto Cartmans bed and glanced at his wrists and then his ankles. Absolutely nothing, barely a hint of that scar tissue hue that shows up before the inky black. He gave a groan of annoyance before flipping over onto his stomach, stress tingled over his body. Normally he would try to quell that stress, make sure no one could smell it on him, but he knew that Liane would be a stand-in mother for a moment if she had too.
Maybe he was mateless, his mark sure as hell isn't showing up and the clock is ticking ever closer to twelve. Life would certainly be miserable if he was a mateless Alpha, those usually never crop up. It'd just be him and whatever job he managed to get until he found an unfortunate soul to bond with. The thought alone makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable sense of dread.
"Dude," Cartmans bluntness tugs Kenny out of his thoughts.
He rolls onto his back, "What?"
"I could smell you downstairs, you're so fucking stressed right now it's not even funny," Cartman said as he sat down next to Kenny, placing a bag of cheesy puffs on the other side of his form. He rubbed his wrists together, "You're totally gonna get your mark."
"What if I don't?" Kenny asked quietly, the comforting fuzziness that Cartmans scent brought him slowly working through his system. His scent was like pink cotton candy, an overwhelming amount of cotton candy, only offset by the hint of pine needles. It was certainly an odd scent but everyone agreed that worse ones were out there.
Cartman placed his hands on either side of Kennys head, palms planted firmly in the sheets. All Kenny could catch was the sugary sweetness of Cartmans scent, "Then I guess our FWB arrangement will become permanent even after I get my mark."
"Thanks man," Kenny said, reaching up to push aside Cartmans hand. He pulled himself up and crossed his les, "Puffs?"
Cartman gave him a handful, "Puffs," He glanced over Kennys form, eyes catching on something before lunging.
The McCormick recoiled, "Dude!?"
"Your ankle!" Cartman exclaimed as he pressed his hands on the reddening patch of flesh.
"Not funny," Kenny got out as he pushed off Cartman with ease. He looked down at his ankle and found it was scarring up with his mark, a euphoric sensation shot trough him, "Holy fuck."
"Dude this is so cool," Cartman got out as he took a bite of a cheesy puff.
Kenny stared with intent as it finally settled on it's form, hue beginning to darken. He traced the thin lines of the pattern curiously, "What symbol is it?"
"No clue," Cartman said as he reached for his phone, "But the internet might know."
He snapped a picture of the mark before putting it into image search and waiting patiently for results. He hummed a bit as it loaded up, Kenny still fixated on the mark as it came too. It was one continuous line, a small hoop with two little sticky outy bits.
"Well?" Kenny asked eagerly.
"Says here its the alchemy symbol for death," Cartman said, a small chuckle on his voice, "Fitting considering how often you die."
Kenny rolled his eyes, "Fate loves to play cruel tricks on me doesn't it?"
"Next thing you know fates gonna revoke your soulmark," Cartman said with a laugh.
Kenny lightly punched him in the shoulder, "Too soon."
And now, two months after the shot of pure ecstasy that Kenny had gotten at the sight of his mark, he's waiting patiently with a couple others for Kyles to show up. The sun is still high in the sky, what with it only be five in the afternoon and spring. He's absolutely giddy, sheer excitement emanating from every pore in his body.
"What do you think it's gonna be?" Stan asked.
Kyle shrugged, "Hopefully something unique."
"I think it's gonna be a star," Cartman said, alluding to something but trying to keep it on the down low, even he knows you only turn eighteen once.
"What if it's a skull?" Craig asked.
"Well a skull is obviously Kennys soulmark," Butters stated as though it were matter of fact.
"Yeah guys, my soulmark is definitely a skull," Kenny said as he rolled his eyes. He rubbed his ankles against each other, pushing down the cuff of his pant leg to cover the mark more. He did enjoy it, he just didn't want anyone to really know- the only reason Cartman knew is because he saw it happen.
"Everyone shut up!" Kyle snapped, he pointed to his wrist, "It's happening."
It was happening, his skin reddening just a bit to that scar tissue hue in a large patch. Then it calmed down again, defining itself just a bit more before a pitch black filled it in. It was rather simple for someone as complex as Kyle, one line, a thin line. No extra little details here and there, just an odd looking loop attached to two stems with little bits on them. It looked familiar to Cartman, like he'd seen it before even though that's stupid. There was no reason for him to have seen a copy of Kyles soulmark until now when Kyle got it.
Then realization hit him hard.
He quickly glanced up to find Kenny looking impossibly uneasy. He looked like he was about to run away or vomit, his hands stuffed in his pockets nervously.
"I have to go feed the cat," Kenny managed to get out stiffly, taking a step back.
"Dude you don't have a cat," Kyle said, raising a brow- Kenny tried to send a subtle pleading look to Cartman.
"That's cause he's feeding my cat, he's taking care of it while moms out of town," Cartman butted in with.
"You should take care of your own cat," Kyle said.
Cartman gave an offended gasp, Kenny stepped back again, "I'll have you know I take great care of kitty."
"Oh yeah?" Kyle challenged, Kenny turned around to leave, "The how come Kennys taking care of it?"
"I'll have you know homework sucks and takes a lot of my time," Cartman spat defensively.
Kenny barely got out in the chaos that was forming.
-/-/-/-
Kenny isn't sure if you can go into a pre-rut through vigorous stress alone but it certainly feels like he is. Every nerve in his body is on fire in the worst was possible and he's nesting. He distantly feels shame for cocooning himself up in the corner of his closet but he just wants to hide from society and Kyle alike.
If a person in power finds out, both him and Kyle will be culled or ran out of town because they can't bring anything to society. And if Kyle finds out he'll panic because what happens when his parents find out? He'll freak out and try to distance himself from Kenny as much as possible for safety.
Kennys stomach does flips at the notions of having Kyle leave him, leave all of them because of him. He'd rather burn off his mark and say he just never had one then fess up and ruin Kyles life. But then again putting him on a wild goose chase for a soulmark that doesn't exist anymore is just as cruel.
What is he even supposed to do?
Well, first he freezes up at the sound of his window sliding open and someone climbing in. He knows it isn't a robber because his family sure as hell can't afford anything worth stealing. Which narrows it down to three people, Cartman, Stan, or Kyle- and he's never wanted to see Cartman more in his life than right now. He pushes himself deeper into the pitiful pile of blankets and pillows he calls a nest, he tugs the drawstrings on his parka a bit tighter.
"Kenny?" Came Kyles soft voice floating across the stagnant air into Kennys ears, it lit an uneasy fire in Kennys stomach, one he wanted to snuff.
He drug himself out of his nest before stepping out, eyes landing on Kyle. Poor, vulnerable, unarmed Kyle. Someone who'd end up with a better life dead if he finds out who his soulmark matches with.
Kenny can't stop his reflex from firing until it's already begun. Kyle is pinned under him on the bed and he freezes up near entirely. Labored breathing resting heavy by his head and the quake of Kennys form above him. Grip on his wrists sweaty and weak, the scent he catches is more distress than anything else.
"Leave," It's supposed to be a demand but it comes out far too cracked.
"Kenny get off of me," Kyle commands, holding his voices edge like a knife as he watches his friend stand up and back away. His face is red and he looks distraught, hands up in surrender.
He takes a shaky breath, "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry Kyle," His voice cracks as he leans against a wall, sliding down it.
Kyle stands up and brushes himself down, ignoring the racing sound of his heartbeat, "It's fine, instincts or whatever, you could've just said your pre-rut was coming on."
Kenny shakes his head, "Not, not just for that."
Kyle steps over to him, "Then why are you sorry bro.
The McCormick reaches to the cuff of his pants and tugs it up. He outstretches his leg and points to his soulmark, inky black as the day it ruined his life, "This."
Kyle stares for a moment, "Oh."
"I'm sorry," Kenny got out quietly, "I can go die in the woods if you want me too, go live a hermit life so I don't ruin yours." He draws his knees to his chest as he speaks.
Kyle sits down on his knees in front of him, "Kenny it's fine."
"It isn't, they'll ruin us Kyle, they'll throw us out and crucify us," Kenny said bluntly, trying to keep his voice even.
"No, Kenny, this is perfect," Kyle said, Kenny lifted his head a bit, "I always needed an excuse to kiss you."
"What?" Kenny managed to croak out.
"I just, thought you would find it weird cause we're both Alphas," Kyle said, bringing his hands to one of Kennys before placing their wrists together. He's hesitant to actually rub, "Scent mark?"
Kenny nodded, "Do it, please."
Kyle rubs their wrists together easily, his own scent bursting atop Kennys as they mixed a bit. Kyles scent was like like mandarin oranges and creek water, a cold and refreshing smell atop the burst of fruit. He took a deep breath, "I've sorta had a crush on you for a while."
"Feelings mutual," Kenny choked out.
Kyle placed a hand at Kennys cheek and he whined as he leaned into the touch, "No one has to know."
Kenny gave a weak laugh, "Cartman does."
"You told him?!" Kyle snapped.
"No, he was there when my mark appeared so he knows we match," Kenny explained as he placed a hand on Kyles.
"He's gonna spread so many rumors," Kyle grimaced.
"He knows better, why do you think he defended my shitty excuse?" Kenny asked with a raised brow.
"Good point," Kyle said, he placed a small kiss to Kennys forehead, "Love you bro."
"No one has to know?" Kenny asked desperately.
Kyle shook his head, "Naw, Stans pretty smart so I wouldn't be shocked if he deduced it right then and there."
Kenny nodded, "You're smarter."
Kyle gave a hum, "Thanks."
"I'm sorry for running off," Kenny said quietly.
"Dude stop saying sorry, you're not a fucking Canadian," Kyle said bluntly as he stood up and held out a hand that Kenny gladly took.
"Our childhood is built on Canadian entertainment, watch your mouth," Kenny said defensively.
"Make me," Kyle said with a smirk.
"You're lucky I'm not actually in pre-rut right now," Kenny said, a predatory grin on his face.
"Oh I look forward to it," Kyle said.
#k2week2023#k2 south park#sp k2#south park k2#kyle broflovski#kenny mccormick#eric cartman#hes really good at being a side character#writing#fanfic#fanfiction#fan fic#fan fiction#tw omegaverse
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Iridescent: Chapter 2
Summary: When Jazz is promoted to Head of Special Operations, the last thing he expected was to have to work with a face from his past.
Ao3
FF.net
As expected Ratchet had been pissed when he'd learnt that Jazz had been running around on a broken leg. After an hour's lecture, he finally put the struts back together and ordered him to rest the weight off his leg for the next few hours. Not wanting to cause the Hatchet anymore ire, Jazz followed his orders, making his way back to his habsuite.
It was late by this point so most of the troupes were already in their quarters.
Jazz hadn't encountered anyone until he once again heard the sound of shuffling footsteps following him. He glanced up at the ceiling but there were no vents along this corridor. He turned to his side but despite the noise, he couldn't see anyone behind him.
Once he reached his room, Jazz took his time pressing in his key code, and paused once the door opened, checking the time on his arm schematics before following the sound of footsteps inside.
Jazz shut the door, reaching into the draw next to his berth. He pushed aside the blaster and instead grabbed a bottle of his strongest high-grade and two cubes. By the time he turned around, Mirage had made himself visible, the polished white and blue of his armour gleaming under the harsh glow of the habsuite lights.
Jazz held out one of the now full cubes.
Mirage took it as the pair sat down on the berth.
Jazz downed his, relishing the burn that scorched through his throat.
He watched as Mirage, who despite everything they'd been through was still a Tower's mech at heart, swirled his cube around before taking a more delicate sip.
"Does Optimus’ story check out?" Jazz asked once Mirage had finished taking his sip.
Mirage shrugged.
"So far. But I only got back a day before you. I haven't had time to dig any deeper yet."
Jazz poured himself another drink.
It had been a long time since they had lost one of their own. You didn't last long in spec opps if you weren't good at what you do.
They all knew the risks and infiltrating the Decepticons head warship was as dangerous as their jobs come.
Still Blackout had been the best of the best. And the fact that she had been found out either meant that they'd had some really bad luck. Or something else that Jazz didn't want to think about.
To be honest Jazz didn't want to think at all.
He had been way past the age to need a mentor by the time he had joined spec opps. But Blackout had been the closest thing he had ever had to one. Showing him all the tricks she'd ever learnt and comforting him whenever things had inevitably gone to slag.
He glanced back at Mirage who has now made it halfway through his cube. 'Raj hadn't been as close to Blackout as Jazz had been. However he had still looked up to her and trusted her with his life. And by the desperate look in his wide eyes, he didn't want to think for the rest of the night either.
But somebody had to, for as much as Jazz wanted to give in to losing himself in another mech, he had to remind himself that he was Mirage's superior now. And any previous arrangements they had once had would now be inappropriate.
Mirage must've come to the same conclusion as he suddenly stood up and shoved his cube back at Jazz.
"I think I should go... sir." Mirage stated, the tagged on honorific sounding wrong coming from his best friend's mouth.
Jazz nodded, swaying slightly as he got up to open the door.
He poked his head out, looking up and down the corridor as though checking for an imaginary knock, as Mirage disappeared.
He waited a few more seconds before closing it again and crashing onto his berth.
Although not at the top of his worries right now, it did suck that all his regular hook-ups were now off-limits.
There were loopholes of course. If you were in a committed pre-existing relationship before a promotion then you were allowed to keep seeing each other. But his and Mirage’s relationship had never been romantic. It would be more hassle than it was worth go through all those official documents for a fake relationship just as an excuse to keep fucking each other.
Even if there wasn't exactly a big pool of people to choose from his new range of commanders.
Any ship to have happened between him and Optimus had sailed long ago. Elita and Magnus were both off base. Trying to entice Ratchet into his berth was about as dangerous as trying to entice Megatron. He didn't know Ironhide that well but Jazz did know that Chromia would shoot his bearing off for taking a pass at her conjunx. He didn't know Red Alert too well either but from what he'd heard the mech was probably too paranoid to let anyone into their berth. There was also that new head tactician that they'd got whilst he'd been away but Jazz didn't even know the guy's name.
Ah well, maybe it was for the best.
Jazz already lied for a living so he made a point of not lying to himself. He knew that he didn't have the best relationship with sex.
Perhaps going cold cyber-turkey for a while would do him some good.
He downed the remainder of Mirage's drink.
For now the high-grade would have to do.
—-
Jazz woke early the next morning, his processor still on mission time.
He did his assigned leg stretches (he swore Ratchet had an outlier ability to know when mechs hadn't) before heading to the central meeting room.
Jazz waved at the few people he saw milling around that early, trying to shake some of the nervous energy from his body.
For some reason he felt the same kid of jittery that he did with pre-mission shivers which was ridiculous since all he was doing was meeting his new co-workers. Who had all previously been his seniors. Not that that was anything to get worked up over.
Outside the meeting room stood a waiting Optimus Prime, his eyes crinkled in an empathetic smile.
"Are you ready?" He asked.
Jazz put on his most charming grin.
"You know me mech, I'm always ready!"
And without further fanfare, Optimus opened the door.
Instincts kicked in as Jazz surveyed the room inside.
Elita-One, Ultra Magnus and Chromia were busy running their hidden base under the remains of MacCadams so they were absent, leaving the rest of the command team here, standing around an oval table.
On the right sat the family face of Ratchet who was giving his leg a suspicious glare. To his right was Ironhide, a burly red mech who crossed his arms with a grunt of a hello. On the left stood Red Alert who ignored Jazz's presence and continued talking to themselves as they poured through a pile of datapads in front of them.
That should have been all the mechs that Jazz would recognise having interacted or at least heard of then before.
He wasn't expecting to recognise the wide blue optics of a face that he hadn't seen since before the war.
He trailed his optics over the stark white mech who's similar shock was now morphing into contempt,
“You.” Their voice was as cold as ice.
Jazz learnt his hip against the table and switched his grin from charming to cheeky.
"Hey officer!"
#jazzprowl#transformers#jazz#prowl#mirage#prowljazz#optimus prime#ironhide#ratchet#red alert#chromia#elita one#ultra magnus#blackout#jazz x prowl#tf jazz#autobot jazz
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